by T. J. Dell
“I wasn’t that bad.” Libby whispered practicaly too herself. She could jump and giggle as wel as anyone else. Besides she knew perfectly wel that Tony had dated else. Besides she knew perfectly wel that Tony had dated Elen Kirkpatrick for months his senior year, and she had been the cheeriest of cheerleaders.
“Don’t get al sulen on me, Libby.” Tony chuckled and shook his head at her. “Every year you come over for the super bowl, and every year you make me explain the rules of footbal, and every year you fal asleep before it’s over! And that’s the most exciting game of the year. No way you make it through a high school footbal game every Friday night for an entire season. No way.”
“You might be right about that.” Libby chewed on her lip as she counted out the price for Pacific Avenue. “I think I am going to try out for track and field. I like to run.” Tony stiled for a moment and raked his eyes over her the length of her body. “Yeah.” His voice was a little huskier than normal. “I could see that. You definitely have the legs for it.”
Just remembering the appraising way his eyes had settled on her legs where they were stretched out along the edge of his bed was enough that she could feel a blush rising to her cheeks.
Every now and then Tony would smile at her. Like when she told him that she remembered what a good story teler he had been as a kid, and that journalism sounded like a good idea. It was not the I love my life easy-going-Tony smile she was used to. It felt like a new only-for-Libby smile. When Libby could no longer hold back her yawns they checked the time; it was actualy early morning and Tony had long ago missed The Top Ten.
“Should we cal it a draw? Or see who has the most cash?” Tony smiled slyly and Libby knew exactly what he was up to.
“No way Marchetti! I have 3 monopolies! You might have more cash but a few more turns around the board and it wil al be mine! Nothing doing – we can finish tomorrow.”
“How do I know you won’t cheat during the night?” Tony played along with mock outrage. So they carefuly wrote down who owned what and their cash totals and they even went to the extreme of carrying the board to the garage and locking it inside. When the door was locked and the key solemnly slid underneath Mr. and Mrs.
Marchetti’s bedroom door (for safekeeping) the hilarity of it Marchetti’s bedroom door (for safekeeping) the hilarity of it al (compounded by the fact that it was now almost 2:00 in the morning) over took them and they exploded into giggles. Giggles! Anthony Marchetti actualy giggled!
Libby grinned at the memory.
When they caught their breath Tony walked her back to her room, his room realy, and for one excruciatingly long moment things got weird again. Exciting weird. At the door to his room she turned to say goodnight, and found him only inches away from her. With one arm braced against the door frame over her shoulder he leaned in and was so close she could almost taste his breath. It occurred to her that if she arched into him even a little bit she would feel his hard chest against her body. And after eight summers of beach vacations with him she had a true appreciation of his upper body.
“This was fun. You know, Libby, I think this is the first time we have ever played together. We should do it again.” His voice went al husky and low. Was he flirting with her? No, he couldn’t be— but stil this was new.
“We can finish the game tomorrow, and we play scrabble al the time at the beach.” Scrabble was a Marchetti family vacation staple. Tony looked almost confused for a moment, and then his smile returned. Not the only-for-Libby smile, but the old friendly smile.
“‘Night Lib.” Tony straightened up, reached out to open the door behind her, and turned and walked down the hal. For one fantasy moment she had thought Tony had actualy been about to kiss her. Even though she was exhausted it took her a very long time to drift off to sleep that night, and she nearly slept through Mrs. Marchetti’s huevos rancheros the next morning.
The next night instead of sitting on the bed Tony wheeled in his father’s office chair. It made the smal room even smaler, and Libby felt a certain loss at sitting on the bed alone. “I must be getting too old to sit up al night with no back support.” Tony joked as he settled into the chair.
For just one fleeting second she thought she saw him look sort of longingly at the empty space on the bed.
Monopoly lasted three more nights, with Tony holding on through stupid barters, and desperate trades.
Honestly Libby purposely let him make those stupid barters just to drag out the game, but somehow she had the feeling that he knew what she was up to and he didn’t seem to that he knew what she was up to and he didn’t seem to mind. Every now and then his voice would drop an octave and tease her in that new way that made her heart leap, but there were no more moments when she could taste his breath. No more is he going to kiss me goodnights. Each night they locked up the board as if it were the most important game of monopoly in the history of games of monopoly, and each night Libby lay awake far too long afterwards reliving each word, and each smile.
On Friday night Tony finaly, albeit grudgingly, admitted his utter defeat in monopoly. This seemed a little convenient since she was going home the next day.
“Libby?” Tony took a deep breath. “Libby, did you realy like those stories I used to tel? When we were kids?”
“I don’t know if like is the right word—since your sister and I would be awake for days afterwards afraid to close our eyes…. but… yeah. They were good.”
“Did you know I used to write them down? Not just when we were kids, but I wrote a lot of stuff my last couple of years in high school. It would be cool, I think, if I wrote something people actualy read. Not just a newspaper article that is going out with the recycling but the kind of thing people kept on their shelves and read over again every once in a while.”
“A book. Tony you are talking about writing a book and I think that is fantastic.” Libby smiled wide and bright because she knew Tony was sharing something with her, and because she knew he could write a phenomenal book.
Tony smiled back. Her special just-for-Libby smile. “Yeah. A book. I want to write a book.” He breathed out a deep sigh. “I think I could do it. A colection of short stories, or maybe I’l realy go for broke and spin out a ful length novel. A thriler. I love a good thriler you know?” It al came out in a rush and Libby was so swept up in his excitement that she threw her arms around him and squealed.
“Go for it Tony. Go for broke—it’s gonna be great!” Less than a second later Libby realized what she had done. And from her head to her toes she felt every inch of her skin come alive. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Tony’s arms circled around her waist. He barely touched her at first, and then suddenly he tugged her against him in a tight hug. His hands splayed open across her back pressing her hug. His hands splayed open across her back pressing her torso to his. She had wanted to open her hands against his back, and feel the muscles she knew, from lots of careful observation, were there. But an instant later his hands were at her hips and he was setting her carefuly away from him.
“Thanks Lib.” Without looking away from her, he reached over to his desk and puled out a pretty battered spiral notebook. “Maybe you could read some of these.
Just enough to tel me if they are any good. Really. I need you to be honest with me.” Tony shoved the book at her.
“The stuff at the back is the most recent. I know the grammar wil need some work, but…” He was actualy rambling. Tony Marchetti had lost his cool talking to her!
Definitely a highlight of her life so far.
“Not tonight—since I am sure I wouldn’t sleep, but as soon as the sun is up I would love to read these.”
“Don’t… this isn’t public knowledge okay? Mel doesn’t need to know about this.”
“Of course! I won’t tel anyone.” It rankled her that he felt the need to even say such a thing. This was clearly personal for him and not her business to be spreading around.
“I know you won’t Lib. You’re a good friend.” Softly he leaned in and b
rushed his lips against her forehead. Her forehead! Like a child! But it was a kiss, and hope bloomed warm and bright in her heart.
And his stories realy were great. Now that Libby was old enough not to let them give her bad dreams at night. That was how the email-pal bit had gotten started.
With Mel no longer incapacitated it wasn’t like Libby had a reason to have many private conversations with her brother. So she had started emailing him as she finished each story, and he would email her back. When she had read the last story there hadn’t felt like a need to stop emailing him. And surely he would have let her know if she was starting to pester him—wouldn’t he?
This was dumb. There was no reason for her to start second guessing herself now. They were closer than they used to be. She used to be his kid’s sister best friend.
And now she was his friend. As much as it pained her to hear him put her in the category of good-friend at least she was in a category. She was not going to start second guessing herself now. And the dress was … perfect.
Chapter two
It was probably too much. No. She looked fantastic. Looking into the ful length mirror in Mel’s bedroom Libby couldn’t quite convince herself. Libby had spent more time getting ready that morning than Melanie did, and Mel was a bridesmaid! Of course Mel had basicaly just stepped into the elegant gold shift style bridesmaid dress, clipped a few strategic locks of hair back, and applied a little make up with practiced ease. It took about two minutes for Mel to look as though she had stepped out of one of her fashion magazines. Libby on the other hand had subjected herself to over an hour of fidgeting while Mel tucked, and pinned, and puled her curls until they looked to be gathered effortlessly away from her face save for a few carefree strands that had escaped. Mel had also done her make up for her. The finished product looking back at her from the mirror was far more dramatic than Libby had envisioned, but she realy did look fantastic.
At 5’7” Libby tended to avoid heels, but she was glad Mel had insisted on the cute little spiky heels, and anyway Tony was pretty tal— definitely over six feet.
“It isn’t too much. And Tony is going to flip.” Mel’s reflection appeared behind her in the mirror. She had always been a little too good at reading Libby’s expressions.
“No. I was just making sure everything was in place.” Libby denied uselessly as she backed away from the mirror. Further discussion was made blessedly impossible as there was someone knocking on the door.
“Are you two ready yet? For crying out loud if we don’t leave now we’l be late!” Tony’s exasperated voice sounded from the other side of the door. Mel was supposed to be early for bridal party photos and Tony was driving them over so that Mel could ride with the other girls in the limo after the ceremony. So while they weren’t exactly late they probably did need to leave.
“Hold onto your shirt brother!” Mel holered back as she handed Libby a beaded purse, and tucked her own clutch under her arm. “We have plenty of time, but let’s go.” Mel puled open the door and stroled down the stairs to the front door. Libby staled before the doorway. She had never seen Tony in a suit and tie before. His normaly shaggy hair had been trimmed short, and while she loved to watch him habitualy brush his hair out of his eyes this new style made him look … wel like an adult. An incredibly hot adult. Libby took a moment to concentrate on not alowing her tongue to hang out of her mouth.
Tony took one look at her and let out a soft whistle. “Libby McKay… al grown up.” Had he realy just whistled at her? What should she say? Why was he staring at her that way? “Are you ready Lib?” Tony crooked his elbow towards her and Libby realized that of course—he was waiting for her to move forward. Silently, since she couldn’t trust her voice, Libby tucked her hand under his arm and alowed herself to be led to the car.
At the church Mel was whisked away for photos leaving Libby and Tony with 45 minutes until the ceremony.
He looked questioningly down at her feet. “Are those shoes okay for walking? Main Street is only one block that way.
I thought we could take a walk and check out the Christmas window displays.”
Ridiculously pleased that Tony had given any thought to spending time with her— even just a walk down Main Street Libby replied. “The shoes are fine, but this Main Street Libby replied. “The shoes are fine, but this wrap isn’t exactly December appropriate.” Libby puled the thin wrap closer around her body emphasizing that despite that it was a mild evening there was stil quite a chil in the air.
Tony nodded thoughtfuly for half a moment and then wordlessly shrugged out of his wool pea coat and draped it over her shoulders. “Let’s go.” He touched his hand to her back and nudged her towards Main Street.
They walked quietly at first. Not touching because Libby was just about swalowed up in Tony’s coat, but stil they walked side by side close enough for Libby to smel his cologne. After a few minutes of comfortable silence Tony said. “So, stil thinking about Track and Field in the spring?”
“Try outs are right after winter break. I have been running most days at the indoor track at the Y. I like the distance runs the best. I’m working on my mile, but I am practicing sprints too.”
“Does Mel go with you? Or someone else? It would probably help to have a coach with a stopwatch. I know Sam Tucker was pretty big into track back when I went to school there.”
Sam Tucker was a senior, and he was on the track team. It surprised Libby that Tony would remember him since he would have been a sophomore when Tony was a senior. Sam and Libby had gone out a few times including the homecoming dance a couple months earlier. They had a good time, but had both agreed that they weren’t seriously interested in each other.
“I usualy go pretty early, and you know Mel only wakes up early for important things… like sales. But I have an old stop watch and can time myself and I do okay.”
“So Sam doesn’t take you running?”
“Umm… no.” Why were they talking about Sam Tucker? Talking about Sam was sort of kiling the nice pseudo-date buzz Libby had going a moment ago.
Tony nodded and checked his watch. “We should probably start back if we want good seats.” Tony slipped one arm around her waist and turned her around to head back towards the church.
“Hey Kid! Look up!” A man a coming out of a shop door grinned and pointed up. Sure enough hanging just over their heads from the awning in front of a consignment shop was a sprig of mistletoe.
The arm that Tony had innocently rested around her waist the moment before was now heavy and warm as he drew Libby closely into his chest. Tony dipped his face down to hers and whispered “Merry Christmas Lib” against her lips. Gently, he brushed his mouth against hers and then slowly and tenderly he was moving his lips with hers. As kisses went it was relatively innocent. Not that Libby had a lot of experience, but there was no insistence, and no tongue. Al the same Libby felt her stomach flip over and al her bones seemed to want to melt away. Long before she was ready for it to end someone let out a loud wolf whistle, and Tony puled away. “We better hurry.” Tony shoved his hands into his pockets and walked quickly half a step ahead of Libby al the way back to the church. Libby was left wondering if something had gone wrong. Personaly she thought that was just about as perfect as a kiss could get, but again—she hadn’t had a whole lot of experience.
He was being rude he knew. But he walked faster He was being rude he knew. But he walked faster anyway. The sooner they were surrounded by relatives the easier keeping his hands to himself would be. And until then he made fists in his pockets—just in case. This was trouble. Libby was his baby sister’s best friend, and he could probably be arrested for the thoughts he was having right now. But the way she looked tonight he was having a very difficult time convincing his body that she was only 16.
Sure lately he had been thinking that they might be good together, but not for a few more years. Four years wouldn’t seem like such a big difference when they were a little older. She was stil a kid for crying out loud. Of cours
e he had been younger than she was doing a hel of a lot more than some mistletoe kissing, but that was realy not the point. Did she have any idea how she looked in that dress.
She was basicaly walking sin. It covered much more than any of the swim suits he had seen her wear year after year, and for that matter it covered more than those skimpy pajama shorts he had been tortured with last summer. And yet somehow it was much more… shal we say effective.
When they reached the steps to the church Tony slowed down and fel back into step beside Libby. “Looks like we made it in time”.
“With plenty of time to spare too.” Libby seemed a little miffed with him. Although he had been very rude most of the walk back here, so he probably deserved it. Libby lifted the hem of her dress slightly as she climbed the steps.
And that scandalous skirt fel open revealing one long perfect leg clear up to her slim, toned thigh. Tony stifled a groan.
They should have had to ask for ID before seling her that dress. It was a wonder she had time to buy a dress at al let alone find one so…. A horrible thought took root in his brain. Her invite to the wedding had been terribly last minute. Maybe she hadn’t had time buy a new dress.
Homecoming couldn’t have been more than 8 or so weeks ago. Maybe that was what the dress from. Mel had been annoyingly vocal about how cute Libby and Sam looked together at the dance. It was possible Libby had bought this siren’s dress for Sam Tucker. That particular thought came with a punch to his gut. Sam Tucker with his sleek black truck and tinted windows. There was only one good reason for a teenage boy to have tinted windows. The very thought of Sam Tucker seeing Libby, his Libby, in this dress made Tony so angry he couldn’t think.
“Have I told you how much I like your dress?” Tony leaned over to whisper in Libby’s ear when they were settled in a pew waiting for the ceremony to start.
“You whistled at me before we left.” Libby couldn’t help her teasing smile. “I’d say that translates to like. I haven’t ever been whistled at before.” Tony decided not to mention that 15 minutes ago a stranger had whistled at her when she was in his arms under the mistletoe. He took a deep breath and tried again. It was suddenly very important that he know if Libby had worn this beautiful dress for Sam Tucker. “I guess Mel was lucky you could get a dress on such short notice. Or maybe you already had it—from homecoming or something?”
