The Keeper

by Jillian Liota

  “Today, I was ready an hour early. I showered. I shaved. I put on mascara. I picked out a new outfit. And I realized as I was getting ready that sometimes, a guy can be worth the extra effort. Simply because they make your face flush, and you get butterflies when they look at you, and they take you on bike rides and win you jelly bracelets.”

  We stop in front of the gate to my complex, and I connect with his eyes for the first time since I started talking. He’s looking at me with such intensity, I feel like I might burst into flames.

  “I guess the point of that overly long and far-too-detailed story is that I just want you to know that today was an unbreakable commitment for me too.”

  My heart is pounding. So fast, so hard. I’ve never revealed that much about myself so quickly, so early. But I know it’s worth it. Mack seems worth it.

  Please be worth it.

  Just as his mouth opens like he’s going to say something, Anna lets out a wail and starts squirming frantically. Mack drags his eyes away from me and sets Anna down, where she promptly flings herself to the ground in tears.

  “I think she’s tired,” he says, glancing at his watch. “I should probably get her home so she can lay down.”

  “Okay, yeah,” I say, looking away from him and rolling my bike towards his truck.

  Mack unlocks the door, then buckles a squirmy Anna into a car seat that is already set up in the back. After cracking the window, he shuts the door and picks up my bike, lifting it into the bed. When he’s done strapping down both of the bikes, he hops down next to me.

  “I had a really great time today.” He reaches forward to take my hand, but instead of linking our fingers, he just holds my hand and rubs lazy circles against the inside of my wrist, under the bracelets. My stomach is jumping all over the place. He’s looking at his hand on mine when I hear him say, “I really want to kiss you,” then his eyes lift and stop at my lips, and my stomach launches itself into my throat, “but I have Anna in the car, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stick around.” I can do nothing but nod as he continues to rub circles. “But I’m gonna hug you goodbye, because just holding your hand today has been the most amazing torture I’ve ever felt, and I’m not ready to let go of that yet.”

  If I thought my heart was beating fast earlier, I had no clue. I can feel it racing a million miles an hour as he leans forward and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me snug into his solid chest. My arms instinctively loop around his neck, our cheeks pressed together. We just stand there for a minute. An hour, maybe. I have no idea. But I know that no kiss in my life has felt as good as being wrapped in his arms. Damn, he smells good.

  His head drops as he pushes his face into my neck, and I hear him inhale.

  “You feel it too, right?” he whispers, his hands on my lower back playing with the edge of my shirt. His thumb sneaks under the fabric and strokes lightly against my skin. “Please tell me I’m not crazy and that you feel this connection too.”

  My eyes squeeze shut as I try to temper the flood of emotions rushing through me. “Don’t worry,” I reply. “I think we’re both crazy.”

  He presses his face into the crook of my neck one more time before releasing me and taking a step back. He looks at me for a moment, his eyes soft.

  “I’ll talk to you soon,” he says. And then he’s hopping into his truck and driving down the street.

  The minute he turns the corner, I lay flat on the ground on the side of the road, letting the cold cement cool my flushed body.

  Maybe Charlie was right about firsts, because if this is how I react to a hug from Mack, I can’t imagine what my response would be if I were to have sex with him. And in that moment, I know that whatever happens between us is going to absolutely wreck me.

  Chapter Three

  When I wander into the apartment, I find Charlie still splayed on the couch, reading and snuggled under a blanket. Without a word, I crawl onto the couch with her, sneaking my body between her arms and wrapping myself around her, my head intentionally blocking her from seeing her book.

  She folds down the corner of the page and lays the book on the coffee table, then wraps her arms around me. We just stay there quietly for a moment. I know she knows something is coming. I can’t remember the last time I did this.

  “So,” she starts, breaking the silence, “that good huh?”

  I let out a noise that sounds like a terrifying cross between an awkward laugh and an uncomfortable groan. I let my eyes fixate on the TV, which is on mute and set to ESPN.

  “Yeah,” I whisper.

  “Well, my dear, it’s about time someone knocked you on your ass,” she says with a little giggle. “God, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

  “I’ve never felt like this,” I respond. “I swear, Charlie. I can’t even describe to you what this day felt like. We just laughed and talked and… god, he’s just so great. I just really like him. No, I don’t just like him. I like him, like him.”

  She pushes on my face until my head tilts up and I’m looking at her.

  “You like him, like him? Jesus, RJ. How old are you?” Then she pushes me off her and I land unceremoniously with a thump on the floor.

  And our tender moment is over.

  Charlie hops up and stands on the couch.

  “Mack and RJ sitting in a tree,” she starts.

  “Charlie, come on!”

  “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

  “Quit it!” I bark, remaining in a lump on the ground, tossing my arm over my eyes so I can’t see her mocking me.

  “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in the baby carriage.”

  “Alright, you’ve had your fun.” I stand and shoot her a scathing look intended to wither her into the ground. She just laughs. Apparently I need to work on my scathing face. “I’m going to study for my psych test.”

  “Would you rather study, or do something more productive like stalk your new love toy online?”

  “That’s your M.O., Charlie, not mine.” I pause. “And I don’t even know Mack’s last name. I couldn’t stalk him even if I was some creeper like you.”

  “You don’t know his last name?” she says, her face contorting with confusion. “What if he’s like, an escaped convict? Or a rapist? Or a Republican?”

  I roll my eyes. “Glad to know you think all of those belong in the same sentence.”

  “But seriously, how do you not know his last name?”

  “It never came up,” I say with a shrug.

  She sits back down on the couch.

  “How old is he?”

  “Uhm, he’s like early twenties. I think.”

  “Where does he work?”

  “We didn’t get to that.”

  “RJ!”

  “What!?”

  She crosses her arms and hits me with a concerned look that I consider to be completely unnecessary.

  “Did you guys just make out in the bed of his truck the whole day? How do you not know any of those things? It’s like, First Date 101. You get his last name to stalk him online. You get his age to make sure he isn’t old enough to be a Sugar Daddy. And you find out where he works so you know he isn’t a mooch who wants a Sugar Mama. You don’t know anything about him!”

  “Hi pot, I’m kettle. Lets turn this around for a second and ask which one of us is more at risk here by not knowing this information after meeting a guy. Me, who goes on a date with the guy? Or you, who goes down on the guy?”

  “Hey!” Charlie’s face isn’t pleased, but I can tell she isn’t mad about what I said, just the fact that I won the points from that argument.

  “You don’t get to make a bunch of judgments because I didn’t get the information you suddenly think is important. He knows Jeremy. The likelihood of Mack having a sordid past of looting gas stations is fairly low. ”

  She glares at me. I throw my hands up in the air in resignation and frustration.

  “W
e just had a fun day! We played mini-golf and raced go-karts and ate In-N-Out. I met his sister and his niece.” I pause to think if I picked up any other tidbits. “He grew up in Indiana.” I add.

  “He must be one amazing make-out buddy for you to get all googley over him when you don’t know any of the things that you usually want to know about a guy.”

  “I’m not all googley over him. And we haven’t even kissed yet,” I retort, then avoid her wide eyes and walk into the kitchen to grab a water.

  “Excuse me?” I hear the slaps of her footsteps on the floor behind me, which is actually really impressive, considering it’s carpet. “You came in here twenty minutes ago practically shitting butterflies and unicorns and marshmallows.” I roll my eyes again – apparently, I do that a lot. “And you haven’t even kissed yet?”

  “What do you want me to say, Charlie? First, you’re upset that I didn’t get to know more information. And now, you’re upset because I didn’t get physical enough? Make up your mind.”

  “I want you to tell me what happened today,” she replies. “How can you get through,” she glances at her phone, “almost four hours of a date without touching on the fundamentals?”

  I slap my hand on the counter in frustration.

  “Why does this feel like a fight? I just like him. We had a great time. I laughed really hard. He laughed really hard. We were just silly and had fun and the conversation was easy. He makes me feel like…” I sigh. “He makes me feel like I’m not broken.”

  Her face falls, and I think it’s at that moment she realizes she may have pushed too far in regards to the first guy I’ve really gushed to her about.

  “That’s because you’re not broken.”

  She walks towards me and wraps her arms around my shoulders, linking her fingers behind my neck and keeping me at arms-length so she can look at my face.

  “You can’t let what a handful of people have said in your past impact your ability to have a relationship now. You’re not broken, Rachel. Carter cheating on you doesn’t make you broken. Your dad being a completely useless bag of shit and pouring that out on his kids doesn’t make you broken. It makes them broken.”

  I’ve never been comfortable with these kinds of conversations. I feel awkward. Like I’m begging for compliments.

  “Thanks Charlie,” I say, kissing her on the cheek. “I’m gonna go study for my test.”

  She squeezes my shoulders, then lets her arms fall. She knows me. She knows I need to be by myself after any mention of Carter. Or my dad. Definitely when both are mentioned at once.

  “I’m heading out tonight,” she says to my back as I begin climbing the stairs to my room. “You wanna skip studying and join me? Richie and Corbin will be there.” Richie and Corbin lived next door to us freshman year. Charlie is much closer with them than I am, but I would still consider them to be two of my closest friends.

  “Nah. I’ve gotta get this grade up or I won’t be able to keep my scholarship next semester,” I reply, turning to give her a smile. “But have fun. And tell the guys I miss them.”

  And with that, I close myself into my room and crack my textbook, even though I know I won’t retain anything I’m about to read.

  * * * * *

  Beeping from my phone at nearly 10pm draws my eyes from my notes. My face breaks into a smile when I see a text from Mack.

  Mack: I’m daydreaming about that burger

  Me: You should be. In-N-Out burgers are the tits

  Mack: Did you just say tits?

  Me: You know you can still see the message on your phone after you’ve read it, right? It’s not like it disappears

  Mack: Nope. Not on my phone. The minute you read something it goes away. Into the void of messaging

  Me: Yeaaaaaaaaa, that’s not a real thing

  Mack: You don’t know

  Me: I think I do, actually

  Mack: ANYWAY. I’ve been thinking about our next date

  I leave my desk and wander down to the living room to flip on Sports Center.

  Me: Oh?

  Mack: Yeah. I’m thinking Chuck-E-Cheese

  Me: Only if you promise not to lose your diaper in the ball pit

  Mack: Bad experience?

  Me: A kid I was babysitting when I was in high school. That was NOT a good day for me

  Mack: Sounds pretty glamorous

  Me: Story of my life.

  About five minutes goes by before anything else comes through. My eyes glaze over the television, which currently sits on mute. Some asshole that plays college football in Texas is causing a stir. I love those stories.

  Mack: I wanted to kiss you so bad today

  My breath catches and I immediately begin to chew on my fingernails. I’m unsure how to respond. Do I make a joke? Is this one of those moments? I can tell him I wouldn’t have wanted his burger-y onion breath in my face.

  Even though it’s a boldfaced lie.

  I hit the sleep button on the top of my phone and watch the screen go black, staring at it for a moment and allowing everything in my mind the chance to jumble around until the pieces fall in a way that makes sense.

  I like that he said that to me, both in the text and earlier today. But I don’t know what to say back. What’s a normal response to someone saying they want to kiss you?

  When he said it earlier today when he dropped me off, I stood like a statue until he hugged me and I was able to show him with my return embrace that I was feeling the moment too. But, I don’t have the luxury of allowing him to read my body language. If I don’t respond to his text, maybe he’ll think I don’t want him to kiss me. But if I tell him how I really feel…

  What? What will happen if I tell him how I really feel?

  Nothing.

  Well, that’s not true. I might die of embarrassment.

  But apart from that, nothing.

  Me: I wanted you to kiss me, too

  I wait for a response, but my phone stays dark. I flip through the channels, not even sure what shows are on. I go into the kitchen and get a glass of water. I stand at the island, snacking on strawberries. Fifteen minutes go by and nothing.

  When my phone rings suddenly, I’m so surprised I drop it on the ground. I’m immediately grateful for my phone case and screen protector.

  “Hello?”

  “Why are you all short of breath? Were you on a jog or something?”

  My heart drops at Charlie’s voice.

  “No, I was just glaring at my phone, willing Mack to call me with my voodoo powers.”

  She laughs. “Girl, you have got it bad. He dropped you off five hours ago.”

  “I know. I feel ridiculous.”

  “It’s not ridiculous, RJ. You have a crush. I used to be concerned when you didn’t react this way.”

  I let out a huff.

  “Whatever. Let’s not talk about all of the strange things that make me special. What can I do for you?”

  “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t wallowing in self-pity, so it sounds like I called at just the right time.” Her voice is bright and happy and I regret staying at home by myself to pretend to study. “Any chance you want to give your psych test the middle finger and head out to meet us at O’Reilly’s? I know you didn’t actually get any studying done tonight.”

  I look at my watch. If I leave immediately I can be there in fifteen minutes, enjoy some time with my friends, and take my mind off the fact that Mack hasn’t texted me back.

  “Yeah, okay.”

  I hear a whoop on the other end of the phone, followed by Richie’s voice in the background, shouting “Get your fine ass down here, sweet thing!” I can’t help the laugh that escapes me.

  After ending the call, I pull my hair into a ponytail, grab my wallet and keys off the entry table, and pull my favorite gray Glendale College sweater from the closet. I’m tugging it over my head when I open the door and come face-to-face with Mack, his hand poised to knock.

  I stop mo
ving.

  I think I nearly stop breathing.

  Yup, I just had to remind myself to inhale.

  “Hi,” he says.

  “Hey.” I’m trying to sound unaffected by his sudden presence, but I’m pretty sure the sudden pounding of my heart in my chest made my voice waver. He just stands there looking at me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was driving around to clear my head when I got your text. And I just… drove here.”

  At the mention of my text, my moment of vulnerability feels foolish. My face flushes and I’m embarrassed at the fact I told him I wanted him to kiss me. I want to tell him I didn’t mean it. I want to tell him that a robber stole my phone or I was drunk or something. This might be the first time I actually wish I drank alcohol. But I don’t say anything. I just stare back at him. Because saying any of those things would be lying to him. And I like that we say strange and very honest things to each other.

  “I’m heading to meet some friends at O’Reilly’s,” I finally offer, as I close the door behind me. “Do you want to come with, or…?” I let my voice trail off as he shakes his head ‘no’ and then takes a step towards me. He’s inches away now. I could reach out and touch him if I wanted. And oh do I want to. I want to wrap my arms around him and let him hug me like he did earlier.

  He reaches his hand to me and places his hand on the back of my neck and traces his thumb along my jaw, like he did at the mini-golf course. His eyes drop to my lips and he stares. He just stares at them with such intensity and focus I begin to wonder if he’s trying to read my emotion in the creases in my skin. If he could, my body would be shouting at him. Kiss me, kiss me. Please kiss me.