The Wilson Mooney Box Set

by Gretchen de La O

  “Aaahhh, I can’t—wait. You’re so impossible to resist,” he sighed. “I gotta wait. I gotta wait,” he chanted, reminding himself of his self-imposed limits. I guess they were my limits, too. But at the rate we were going, they were going to be impossible to keep much longer. He crawled back off me. I laid there for a minute to regroup the butterflies that had decided to fly south, bring them back to the cage in my gut.

  I had to get up; get ready to go skiing. I had to leave Max all day so I could put long skinny planks on my feet, sticks in my hands, and slide down a hill covered in cement-hard, freezing snow. It’s not like I had anything better to do. I so did not want to go. The only thing I looked forward to was trying to find time to sneak away with Max.

  I dragged myself off the bed and rummaged through my bag. I found a pair of fashionably ripped-up jeans and a long sleeve scoop-neck T-shirt. Perfect: today it had to be about the outfit I wore, not the functionality of it.

  “I’m going to change and go downstairs. I’ll keep Cindy busy while you find your way out,” I told him. Not because I wanted him to leave; I needed to remind myself that I didn’t want Cindy to know anything about Max and me.

  “Thanks.” He grabbed my hand, pulled me into a hug and kissed my forehead.

  “You’re welcome. I’ll text you when we get to the ski lodge.”

  “Bye.” He pecked me on the lips. Good self-control. Not too long, lingering on the lips. I left and glanced back for a split second while I shut the door.

  That was so hard. I took a deep breath and tried to shake off the disappointment that crept into my mind. I didn’t want to leave him, I didn’t want to ski, and I didn’t want to hang with Cindy for the day knowing that Max was going to be near but unobtainable.

  “There you are! How’re you feeling?” Nick caught me coming down the stairs.

  “I’m fine. A little tired. How ’bout you? You were pretty wasted last night.” I twisted the jeans I was carrying into a ball, adjusting them from one hand to the other. I had to keep busy and look interested.

  “My head is throbbing, but other than that, I’m up.” He rubbed his head, messing up his hair.

  “I guess that’s the best you can ask for. I’d better find Cindy, she’s already pissed that I wasn’t up earlier. See you later.” I started down the stairs.

  “Oh, hey Wilson, don’t worry about the thing with Max Goldstein.” He started back up the stairs.

  What? Wait, what the hell was that? What did he mean, ‘thing with Max?’ My heart dropped clear down to my toes. What does he know about us? I turned back to him.

  “Max?” I played it as naïvely as I could. I had to cover any trace of anything between Max and me.

  “Come on, Wilson, I know what’s going on between you guys.”

  “What’s going on? There’s nothing going on.” I pushed the words hard. I needed make him believe nothing was going on.

  “I heard you last night. But look, I talked to Cindy this morning and everything is cool. She understands.” He stepped down a couple of stairs to be eye level with me.

  It’s over. That’s it, we are so caught. Max’s career is over. He’ll have to resign from Wesley. I won’t see him anymore and, since I caused him to lose his job, he’ll hate me. I don’t think I can handle him hating me. Every feeling I felt last night was tainted with guilt and my memory of us together last night was totally ruined. I just can’t let that happen.

  “Nothing happened. It would be her word against mine, because nothing happened.” Desperate words flew from my mouth, trying to find a way to convince Nick to believe me. My hands wrapped tight in the clothes I was holding. I felt the edges of my ears burn red. My stomach twisted and I could feel the urge to get sick bubbling to the back of my throat.

  “I heard differently. I guess you ripped Cindy another hole and she just stood there, shocked.” He acted out what he thought she would look like. “I would’ve paid money to see that.” He started to laugh. I was totally confused.

  “What are you talking about?” I shifted my weight across to my other leg and felt the fuzz of confusion cloud my head.

  “The fight you and Cindy got into last night? About Goldstein—because he happened to show up to a jailbait drinking fest. Why? What are you talking about?” He cocked his head, waiting for an answer.

  “Oh, yeah. Okay, that’s what I thought you were talking about. I got a little confused. I guess I drank more than I thought last night. It takes a little time for words to catch up to my brain.” Relief splashed over my body. I’d dodged a pretty big bullet. Thank you, God, or whoever is watching over me. I turned to continue down the stairs.

  “Hey, Wilson, is he still sleeping?” He looked me dead in the eyes. My heart sank. I couldn’t even act like I didn’t know who he was talking about. I wanted to ask who he was referring to, but it would be a waste of my breath. He knew that Max was with me last night. It must have been because we’d carried him to bed.

  “No,” I answered automatically. Huge beads of sweat pushed through my pores. My throat went dry and my heart pounded at marathon speed.

  “I won’t tell. Your secret’s safe with me.” He winked, and his eyes glistened.

  The need to explain swamped me in total guilt. There was nothing I could do to change the facts—Nick knew about Max spending the night.

  “Nothing happened. He fell asleep on the sofa. That’s it.” I stepped up toward him.

  He pushed his hands against his chest. “You don’t have to convince me. I’m not a snitch.” Maybe it was out of desperation or the fact that there was nothing I could do to change his mind. But somehow, I believed him.

  “Thanks.” I made sure to look at him square in the eyes before I started back downstairs.

  I had to believe he was being truthful with me. What other choice did I have? He had me by the short hairs (another one of my grandpa’s sayings). He’d seen us together last night and, whether he could prove it or not, rumors tend to spread like wildfire around our school. The truth always gets twisted into a lie and people always get hurt.

  I turned the corner, still not dressed in the clothes I was holding. Cindy stared at me. I thought she was going to blow a gasket, daggers flew from her eyes.

  “Wilson. Why aren’t you dressed? We’ve gotta go.” She paced over to me. I didn’t even realize I still had my PJ’s on and my clothes twisted in my hands. I had to think fast with some lame excuse of why I still wasn’t dressed.

  “I didn’t know if these were okay to wear skiing?” I held up the pants and shirt.

  “They’re completely hideous and totally wrong. You can’t ski in those.” She grabbed them and tossed them on a chair that looked like it belonged in a museum. “Let me get you one of last year’s outfits.” She climbed the stairs and yelled back, “Go eat the breakfast Lupita made.”

  This was bad. Not where I needed Cindy to go right now. Tongue-tied, I couldn’t think of anything to get her to come back downstairs.

  “Wait! I’ll come with you,” I screamed, and booked up the stairs after her.

  “Whatever; hurry up. We don’t have all day.” She passed the closed door I stayed behind last night with Max. She didn’t even give it a second look. Good sign, she must not have thought there was anything there she needed to investigate. She pulled open the door across from Nick’s room. It was a walk-in closet filled with ski gear. Everything you needed, from the skis down to the thermal underwear people layer with when they’re cold. The entire back wall was a shelving unit of wire baskets overflowing with all types of sunglasses, boots, goggles, gloves, and miscellaneous hats. I guess that was the type of closet people had when you lived at the base of a ski resort. She spun around, looked at me, then started rummaging through the baskets.

  “You’ll need sunglasses, gloves, and a headband. Socks are a must,” she stated, going over a checklist in her head. Cindy flung items at me as she named them off. She shuffled her way to the clothes rack, pushing and pulling outfit after outfit—a
ll hung perfectly on hangers, all sorted by brand and color.

  “You’ll definitely need an outfit. Let’s see—yeah, that one won’t fit. That’s the one I’m wearing. I wore that one last month. This is SO not you. Hmm, let’s see…here it is. This is the one you should wear.” She held up a one-piece baby blue suit that had a zipper from the crotch to the chin and a built-in hood. It looked like something you’d wear as you stepped out of the space shuttle onto the moon. Hell, no!

  One small step forward for fashion and one huge step back for me wearing that! I couldn’t believe she pulled that thing out for me.

  “Is there something a little less—blue?”

  “Christ, Wilson, this is a five hundred dollar Shugga suit by North Face. Get with the times! Just go try it on.” She flung it across the pile of things I already had in my hands and stared at me. I turned and walked to my room.

  “Come out and show me,” she howled as I heard the hangers scrape across the bar. It was as if we were shopping and she was throwing me the clothes she didn’t want to waste time trying on.

  I know why she chose that snowsuit for me. Less attention on me meant more for her. Who in their right mind would wear something so hideous? I was reaching for the knob when the door flew open. It was Nick. My heart dropped.

  “What are you doing in my bedroom?”

  “I was helping Max—out.” He shoved his hands into his pockets as he rocked back and forth.

  “Out?”

  “How else was he going to get out with Cindy coming upstairs?” He pulled his hands from his pockets and pointed to the open window.

  “Holy shit, isn’t that pretty far down?” I tossed the crap in my hands onto the floor and ran to the window. He wasn’t out there.

  “Relax, he only fell down the last ten feet.” He pushed the window closed and smiled. I could only hope he was kidding.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” He turned and walked out, closing the door. I still couldn’t believe he and Cindy had the same dad.

  I opened the window and looked down. I saw the impression of his body where he’d fallen, but no other sign of him. He was gone. I knew that the faster I could get ready to go, the sooner we’d be together. I hurried to the powder blue baby vomit of a spacesuit, unzipped it, and threw it on the bed. I pulled off my top and slid off my pajama bottoms. As ugly as that thing looked lying there, I hoped it would cling and hang in all the right places. If I was going to be looking like I belonged in a seventies space movie, I wanted to make sure I was the sexiest seventies space babe around. I grabbed the suit and slid one leg in, then the next. It actually felt silky-smooth against my skin. I pulled it up over my hips—it was really comfortable—pushed one arm through, then the next; I grabbed the zipper and pulled it up to my navel. That’s when I caught myself in the reflection of the window. The suit was actually really cute. I pulled the zipper up to just cover my bra. Hello, cleavage! I turned and spun to see how I looked from all angles. I pushed my arms against my body making my breasts to look bigger than they really were.

  “Wow, wouldn’t Max like to see that,” I mumbled to myself. I bent down, grabbed the white fluffy headband out of the pile of stuff Cindy had given me, and flipped my hair back, pulling it onto my head.

  “Yeah, I would.”

  I spun around quickly. Max was crouched on the windowsill, holding onto the glass for balance.

  “Oh my God! You scared me. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m sorry. I got down to my car and realized my keys were still here. I thought you would have left already.” He hopped into the room. His nose wrinkled and he winced as he landed.

  “Are you okay?”

  He was still bent low.

  “I’m fine, just landed wrong when I left the first time.” He stood up, his eyes traveling across my body as he smiled and bit his lower lip. I grabbed the zipper on the snowsuit and pulled it up to the bottom of my chin.

  “How long were you there in the window?” I pulled the headband off. My face burned red, I totally couldn’t believe he saw what I’d been doing.

  “I wasn’t there long; just long enough to hear you say something about me—liking this.” He shook his head. His hands pushed up and down through the air pointing at the moon suit I had on. He couldn’t stop staring at me. I had to feel good about that. I guess it clung and hung exactly where it should. My body temperature rose I was getting real hot.

  “You really like it?” I grabbed the zipper and lowered it without thinking, just enough to make his mouth open.

  “Absolutely,” he said losing his breath. He nudged super-close. His eyes fixed, his aroma swarmed my body as his hand slid around to the small of my back and his other caught the handle of the zipper. I lost my breath.

  “You see this spot,” he said as his lips kissed low on my neck. “And this spot here.” He kissed low enough on my chest to send shivers down my body.

  “You have to keep them protected from the cold.” He tenderly pulled up on the zipper until I was completely covered.

  “That’s better,” he exhaled.

  “Thanks,” I could barely talk. My bones were shaking. I really liked him kissing my exposed skin. He slid his other arm around me and pulled me to his chest.

  “You might have to change out of this outfit. I don’t know if I can keep away from you.”

  “Really? Baby blue and all?” I couldn’t believe he liked the outfit that much.

  “It isn’t the color; it’s the woman wearing it. And she is irresistibly sexy in it.” His words brushed across my ear while his lips found their way to the curve where my jaw met my neck. Mmm, he was so good at that. He navigated across my cheek to my mouth. He caught my lower lip and gently pushed my mouth open for our last kiss before we had to go our separate ways today. I didn’t want to pull away, but if I didn’t get back in that hallway, Cindy would come looking for me. I pulled my lower body away from him, hoping my lips would follow.

  “I gotta get back to Cindy,” I spoke softly to him.

  “I know. I’ll see you later,” he said as I pulled away.

  I walked away, only glancing back to see him still standing, waiting for me to come back. I walked out the door.

  It was good I left Max when I did; Cindy was heading to my room with her arms full of more ski gear.

  “Oh, you’ve decided to come back. What the hell took you so long? I don’t know if I like that suit on you. It’s a bit too blue.” Cindy would always make up an excuse why she didn’t like something; especially if she thought it made you look better than her.

  “I’m fine with it. Blue is okay, I guess. Let’s get going so we can make sure you get there before the Vaughns. Hey, what’s going on with Chase Romero?” I had to get her mind off me wearing the baby blue suit.

  “Nothing, he’s not in town this weekend. He’s made the football team and he’s tied up with some practice squad thing. But you’re right; I gotta beat the Vaughns. They are such douches. Total mouth breathers. I swear, something is wrong with that entire family.” She rummaged through the pile she’d tossed in the hall and pulled out a couple of things she needed.

  “I need to go grab the stuff you gave me and I’ll meet you downstairs,” I told her, waiting to see her roll her eyes at me.

  “Fine, hurry up.” She walked down the hall, leaving the pile of ski stuff in the middle of the floor. As she bounced down the stairs, I watched until her head sank below the top step. I heard her gripe something about cleaning up the pile in the hall and making something to eat.

  I turned and ran to my room. I took a deep breath before I opened the door. I had a feeling he might not be there, but what if he didn’t sneak out yet? What a bonus. Bad for me, there lay my pile of ski paraphernalia in the middle of the room, but no Max. I swiped it up, shut the door and left behind some of the best memories in my entire life.

  “Nick, you promised you would drive me around this weekend. You know how I hate to drive in the snow.” Cindy w
as slamming things around the kitchen.

  “Something came up. I can’t take you,” Nick told her. His eyes followed me walking in.

  “I’ll drive,” I spoke up, piling the stuff in my hands onto the stool next to me.

  “You’re not driving. Nick’s going to drive us. That’s why my dad is paying him this weekend.” She poured a glass of orange juice and slid it across the slippery rock counter to me.

  “I don’t mind.” I took a swig.

  “I do! He’s going to drop us off on the way to wherever he’s going. Right, Nick?” She picked up a glass of orange juice and sipped without making any slurping noises. Her eyes fixed on his, almost like she was holding something over his head. A personal conversation I wasn’t privy to. It must’ve been something real bad because he shook his head and started for the front door.

  “I’m leaving in five minutes. You better be ready,” he grumbled and walked out. I turned and looked at Cindy to see what she might say—nothing. She just looked at me, shrugged her shoulders and grabbed an apple from the gigantic fruit bowl on the counter.

  I couldn’t live that way. It was so awful. Their relationship was so tumultuous. The handful of times I’d seen them together, it was hell. If she wasn’t demanding something from him, she was degrading him and making him feel worthless. I think they thrived on chaos. They were attracted to it, because it gave them something to feel. It justified their anger for the lack of personal relationships with their parents. There, that’s my psychoanalysis of their interpersonal relations. Take it for what it’s worth, a ski lift up the hill.

  We threw our stuff in a designer duffel bag and let the hired help load it into the back of the Sequoia. I sat in the backseat behind Nick. My stomach twisted tight—a familiar spot I wasn’t comfortable with, but I couldn’t get my mind to convince my body to change sides with Cindy. There was the fact that if she sat right behind him she’d rack-a-pop him across the back of the head. What’s a rack-a-pop? Again, a word my grandfather taught me. It’s when someone gives you a whack across the back of the head with the palm of their hand, causing a popping sound and making your hair poof. That’s a rack-a-pop. Seeing their volatile relationship first hand, I didn’t want to be anywhere near when the rack-a-pops turned into fisticuffs.