Arousing Love, a teen novel (complete)

by M. H. Strom

  Copyright © 2011, M. H. Strom

  All rights reserved

  One

  “You wanna play?”

  “Yeah, okay.” I didn’t really but these girls were pretty cute, especially the blonde one.

  “Throw the rings over the Eiffel tower.” The blonde girl pointed to the miniature Eiffel behind her. “You get a French treat for each one you get over.”

  Her hand brushed mine as she handed me the rings and I glanced up into stunning blue eyes. She turned away and I traced the shape of her sleek, young body, my eyes lingering on the gentle curve of her hips. I blinked and concentrated on the model Eiffel. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of these girls.

  I threw the first ring and got it over. Both girls cheered and I almost laughed at their enthusiasm. I tried to focus again but was too hurried this time and missed.

  “Ohhh that was close.”

  “Come on, you can do it.”

  I threw the last ring, and the girls cheered again. I couldn’t help but grin at them. I wondered what my French treat would be. A French kiss?

  The dark-haired girl held up a tray with some kind of tart on it and a bread stick with a French flag toothpick stuck through it.

  I took my prizes. “You made these?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled.

  “Mmm . . . it’s good.” I stood there eating, not wanting to move away. “So . . . how come you’re doing this beach festival?”

  “It’s a camp activity. It was Lizzie’s idea to do a taste of Paris.” The blonde girl glanced at her friend then smiled at me with such natural ease, her pretty face blooming into beautiful.

  “That’s cool. So you’re camping here?”

  “Yeah, with our parents.” She smiled with such unguarded friendliness it took my breath away. “We come here every year.” Her lips were a soft, natural pink. “It’s a family camp.” Her long, golden hair shimmered as she combed her fingertips around one ear.

  “What about you?” The dark-haired girl I presumed was Lizzie asked, distracting me from my stare.

  “Uh, I live here. My parents own the store up the road.” It sounded lame, but oh well.

  “You’re lucky. . .”

  I looked at the pretty girl again as Lizzie continued to talk. When she fell silent I realized I hadn’t heard a word she’d said and now she was looking at me expectantly.

  “Um, yeah,” I said, non-committal-like.

  Lizzie smiled. “Me too.”

  “I’d love to live near the sea.” The pretty girl looked into my eyes then glanced away, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. The skin from her throat down to her neckline was so smooth it shone with reflected sunlight. “It’s beautiful here.” She looked again into my eyes and this time she held my gaze. I was shocked at how pretty she was. We were just staring at each other and I knew I had to say something, but the conversational part of my brain had stopped working. I swallowed.

  “You wanna play?” Lizzie called, looking past me. I turned to see a young boy approaching the booth and I stepped back to give him some room. The blonde girl gave me a wistful smile. I flashed her a grin, turned and walked away.

  I was on an adrenaline high, it was such a rush talking to a pretty girl like that. I started replaying our conversation in my head, inwardly groaning that I hadn’t even said one semi-intelligent or witty thing the whole time.

  “Hey!”

  I turned and my heart jumped. She was right behind me.

  “What’s your name?” She asked.

  “Uh . . . Zach.”

  She grinned. “I’m Joanna.” She stood there for a moment just smiling at me. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Zach. Hope I see you around some time.”

  “Yeah. . .”

  She whirled and danced away before I could say anything else.

  Wow. I stood watching after her. She really was something to look at.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  The next day, full of nervous energy, I jumped the fence and took a shortcut through the campground. I could hear the noise of the festival through the trees, and caught a whiff of popcorn and hotdogs reminding my stomach I hadn’t eaten yet. I came out into the wide-open blue of sparkling ocean stretching to the horizon, and joined the festivities on the beach.

  Various stalls were set up around a stage area where a small crowd had gathered to watch a performance. I wandered past them to the booth with the painted backdrop of the Eiffel tower and the words ‘Taste of Paris’ scrawled above it. She wasn’t there, only Lizzie sitting on a stool.

  “Hi, where’s Joanna?”

  “She went somewhere with her parents.”

  “When’ll she be back?”

  “Donno.”

  I decided to stick around a while and wait for her. I leaned up against the booth.

  Lizzie smiled. “She likes you, ya know.”

  “She does?”

  “Yeah, she talks about you.”

  I smiled. “How old is she anyway?”

  “Fifteen, same as me.”

  Fifteen? She didn’t look that young.

  Lizzie gave me a sideways look. “Why? How old are you?”

  “I’m eighteen.” I watched her for a reaction but she just looked away.

  “Hi!” A bubbly voice said behind me.

  I swung around to see Joanna with a beaming smile, obviously pleased to see me. She was wearing a dress with string straps showing off her smooth, tanned shoulders.

  “Hi,” I said, suddenly self-conscious.

  “We were just talking about you.” Lizzie smirked.

  “What were you saying?” Joanna looked from her friend, to me, and back again.

  “Oh, nothing,” Lizzie teased, and I laughed.

  Joanna tried to frown at us but couldn’t hold her expression long before breaking into a big grin.

  “Hey, you wanna go to the games room with me?” She looked right at me, waiting so expectantly for my answer that for a moment everything seemed frozen in time.

  “Okay,” I said, breaking the spell, and she smiled happily.

  We walked through the campground, the girls leading the way. Joanna danced around me as she talked, spinning in front of me and walking backwards, then spinning around again. She was so excited . . . and so exciting.

  Man, what am I doing? This girl’s way too young for me. But we can still hang out and have some fun, right? We’ll just be friends.

  We came to a building and Joanna grabbed my arm, pulling me through the side door. Arcade games lined the walls. There was a lounge area where some teenagers were playing cards, and in the middle of the room was a ping-pong table. A group of kids of various ages stood in line beside it.

  Joanna followed my gaze. “Ins and outs. You wanna play?”

  “Sure.” I was pretty good at table tennis.

  The three of us got in line and it wasn’t long until it was my turn as an older boy was getting all the little kids out. He’d met his match with me though as I quickly dispatched him to the back of the line. The little kids cheered, glad the boy was finally out. I looked at Joanna who was next in line. She gave me a big smile then pushed Lizzie ahead of her. I laughed.

  “Be nice. I’m not too good at this,” Lizzie pleaded.

  I gave her a gentle serve and she managed to hit it back a couple of times before she got out.

  Joanna took the paddle from her. “Be nice to me too.”

  I served her a nice, easy one which she smashed back at me low and fast. I tried to get to it but the ball flew past me. I looked at her in amazement and she gave me a big, cheeky grin. I laughed, shaking my head as I went to the back of the line.

  I watched her while I waited for my
turn. She was nice to the little kids, giving them easy shots they could hit, but not so generous with the older ones, especially the boys.

  She was still in when it was my turn again, and I soon got my revenge, smashing her loopy serve. She made a face at me, poking out her tongue as she went to the back of the line.

  A real camaraderie soon developed among our little group of players. We teased each other with silly banter, and I sometimes lost to the younger kids just to make things interesting for them. I was enjoying hanging out, giving them high-fives and encouragement. I kept glancing at Joanna, and I noticed she was looking at me a lot too.

  I started showing off, acting like a professional tennis player, keeping light on my toes and grunting as I returned the ball. I did big tennis-like serves, throwing the ball into the air and whacking it as it came down. I was enjoying myself and getting laughs, especially from Joanna, the crazy girl was giggling at everything. When I played her again she beat me. She laughed at my exaggerated expression of shock.

  Other kids in the room had noticed how much fun we were having, and the line became so long the people at the end could sit on the sofas in the lounge area. I went and sat down on one of the love seats and was soon joined by Joanna herself. She’d lost to a little kid and everyone was teasing her about it. I wondered if she’d deliberately lost so she could come and sit with me.

  A little boy nudged me, “Hey, you’re sitting next to a girl. That means you must like her.”

  “Yeah, she’s my girlfriend,” I joked, then glanced at Joanna. She was blushing, but she grinned back at me. She didn’t seem to mind that the boy was loudly telling everyone what I’d said.

  When Lizzie got out again she came over and whispered something to Joanna.

  “Hey Zach, we have to go.” Joanna gave me a cute little pout.

  “It’s okay, I better get going too.”

  Some of the younger kids begged us not to leave, even pulling at my arms to keep me there, but most of them decided to quit along with us and the game looked like it had come to an end.

  Joanna was waiting for me by the door. “That was fun.”

  “Yeah it was. We should do it again.”

  “How ‘bout tomorrow?” She grinned.

  “I could meet you here after five?”

  “Okay.” She nodded and smiled.

  I walked home feeling light and happy. Joanna obviously liked me, and I liked her. She was pretty, and funny, and . . . pretty. I couldn’t wait to see her again.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  The next day, after I got off work, I headed over to the games room. As soon as Joanna caught sight of me she broke into a beautiful smile, and I couldn’t help but smile too. This girl just had a way of making me feel so good. Lizzie wasn’t with her this time, in fact there was hardly anyone in the games room, and no one was playing ping-pong.

  “Where is everyone?”

  “I don’t know, there’s no paddles, but I found this under the chair.” She held up a ping-pong ball. “You wanna play with me?” She grinned.

  “Without paddles?”

  “Just use your hands.” She giggled.

  It was actually a lot of fun. The ball didn’t travel as far from our hands but it made it over the net and was easy enough to return with a good slap. Joanna was giggling a lot, and I soon caught her mood.

  “Sorry I’m being so crazy.”

  “It’s okay, I like you like this.”

  “You do?” She giggled.

  “Yeah.”

  We stood there grinning at each other.

  “Let’s play a real game.” She slapped the ball at me.

  We played a game up to 21. Lizzie came in and watched us while we were playing.

  “You guys wanna go to the beach?”

  “You want to, Zach?”

  I didn’t want to. I was having too much fun with Joanna all to myself.

  “Let’s keep playing for a while.”

  “Okay.” Joanna smiled at me, then gave Lizzie her cute, little “sorry” pout.

  Lizzie slumped onto the couch. “When are you guys gonna be finished? I’m so bored.”

  We kept playing for a while, but it wasn’t the same with Lizzie there—Joanna wasn’t giggling anymore, the mood was broken.

  I sighed. “Alright, let’s go to the beach.”

  We hopped over the hot, white sand and found a place to sit. A couple of guys came and joined us, and Joanna introduced them to me. One was Matt—blond, tanned, and muscular. Her friends didn’t seem to mind me being part of their group.

  “Let’s go swimming,” Joanna said, looking at me. She got up and pulled her t-shirt over her head revealing a light-blue bikini top underneath. Whoa! Is she really only fifteen?

  “Come on.” She grabbed my arm to pull me up.

  “I’m not wearing swim shorts.”

  “So?” She grinned and pushed off her shorts revealing a matching bikini bottom.

  Wow. I sat staring up at her, unable to take my eyes from that perfect skin, taking in every curve of her smooth, sculptured body. She just stood there letting me look.

  When my eyes finally met hers she smiled and held out her hand. “Come on.”

  I didn’t know what to do. I could swim in the shorts I was wearing, but for some reason I felt uncomfortable swimming with her like that. None of her friends were getting up either.

  “Come on, Zach.” She tugged at my arm, trying to get me up, but I resisted, staying firmly seated on the sand. I was feeling so awkward and unsure of myself.

  She left me there and went down to the water’s edge. I thought she’d given up on me, but she came right back, her hands full of wet sand, and splattered me with it, giggling with glee as she rubbed it through my hair. Her friends were all laughing as I stood up, shaking my head and feeling wet sand dripping down my back. I took off my shirt and chased a squealing Joanna down to the sea.

  She looked back to see me coming in after her. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She laughed and screamed as I came closer. “Zach . . . I’m sorry!”

  I was close enough to grab her but I hesitated. I was still shy about touching her like that, especially when she was hardly wearing anything.

  We stood there looking at each other for a moment until a big wave broke over us, wetting the last of our dry skin, making Joanna squeal. I laughed, and she lunged at me, but I easily resisted, grabbing her around the middle and lifting her up. Her screams were cut short as she plunged head first into the water. I swam away, and she gave chase, grabbing my legs and dunking me. We played in the surf, splashing and laughing and innocently touching each other as much as possible, and somehow we ended up holding hands and floating over the waves together.

  Something was stirring in me. Don’t get any ideas about her, Zach, she’s too young. But as I looked into those perfect, blue eyes, I knew it was already too late.

  When we came out of the water and joined her friends on the warm sand, there was another guy there with them. He’d been passing something around that they’d quickly put away when they saw us coming. I didn’t want to hang with her friends, I just wanted to be alone with Joanna.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” I whispered.

  “Okay.” She smiled.

  We strolled along the beach, the evening sea breeze cooling our wet skin, making us shiver. I placed my unbuttoned shirt around Joanna’s shoulders to keep her warm, and she wrapped it around herself, smiling up at me appreciatively.

  “Sorry ‘bout my friends.”

  “What were they doing? Is it drugs?”

  She nodded. “Not Lizzie though, she’s not into that.”

  “What about you?”

  “Of course not, I’m a good girl.” She laughed. I was glad about that. For some reason it mattered to me.

  “So where are you from?” I changed the subject.

  “Colorado.”

  “That far. How long are you staying?”

  “Two weeks.” She spoke with a noticeable shiver.

&
nbsp; At the end of the beach was a large rock. I put my arm around her and directed her towards it, and we squatted down out of the wind. I kept my arm there and she didn’t seem to mind.

  “It got cold all of a sudden.” Her teeth chattered.

  “Yeah, it can do that.” I pulled her a little closer. “So . . . what kinda things do you do at your camp?”

  “We do activities and stuff, like the beach festival, and there’s a talent show. We’ve been here before so I know lots of people here. That’s how I knew Matt and Lizzie from last year. It’s cool, you know. What about you?”

  “I just live here.”

  “I know that.” She exaggerated her words. “Tell me something about you, like . . . how old are you?”

  “Eighteen.” I wondered if my age bothered her.

  “I’m sixteen,” she said matter-of-factly. I gave her a doubtful look, and she blushed. “Well, I’m nearly sixteen. . . in August.”

  I laughed. August was still a couple of months away.

  “Are you going to college?” She changed the subject.

  “I’m still deciding what I wanna do. I was thinking about art school.”

  “You’re an artist?”

  “Yeah . . . well, I paint. I wouldn’t call myself an artist. I hate all the baggage that goes with that label.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know, artists have that whole mystique, like they’re something special just because they’re artists. Most of the art these days isn’t even that creative. It doesn’t have much to say about anything, and most of it isn’t even beautiful. It’s meaningless, and anyone can do meaningless. There’s nothing to it.”

  “Maybe you’ll be a different kind of artist.”

  “Yeah.” I smiled. She was sweet. I watched as a drop of water from her hair trickled down her face, pooling briefly at the corner of her lips. Even now, loosely wrapped in my shirt, her hair limp, her skin blotched with sand, she was still so beautiful.

  “You’re very pretty.”

  She smiled. “What’s pretty about me?”

  “Everything.” I laughed. “You have really pretty eyes . . . like pieces of the sky, and when you smile your whole face lights up, it’s amazing.”