“Cindy. We are landing. We’re in Oakland.” Max turned back to me then to her again. Her eyes gradually opened. She looked around and noticed everyone had their chairs up and seatbelts fastened.
“Are we landing already?” She was unaware of how loud she spoke. Max indicated to her to pull the plugs out of her ears. She did.
“Yeah, we are,” he whispered making a point to talk low.
“Sorry, didn’t realize I was talking so loud.” She did her ritual clean up of her iPhone and pushed her bag back under the seat in front of her. “I am so glad to be home. It’s been a long weekend,” she whined.
I couldn’t believe what came out of her mouth, a long weekend? She partied, raged at dance clubs, had one night stands, fought with her brother and dad and totally ignored me most of the weekend. She could call it a fun weekend or a crazy weekend, even call it a trying weekend; but to have her call it a long weekend—well, that just wasn’t acceptable. It wasn’t long enough for me.
One more day would have been perfect. I would have liked to have gone to brunch with his family today, spent some more time in their company—especially his mother’s. There was something magical about her. I didn’t feel so broken around her. She made me feel accepted and important, even a bit normal.
The plane landed with a couple of rough bounces and it became really loud as it slowed toward the end of the runway. But, all in all, we landed safely and securely in Oakland. I looked out the window and caught Max’s reflection watching me. He smiled, watching my expression. As our bodies got pulled to the seats in front of us, he pushed his hand against my shoulder, stopping me. He leaned into me.
“I miss you already,” he whispered.
Cindy was already taking off her seatbelt and getting her backpack ready to go.
“I’ve got to go to the restroom. So if we get separated, meet me at baggage claim okay? Max, Mr. Goldstein, see you tomorrow at school.” She stood up, pushing her way forward. In minutes she was able to work her way out of the plane. Not without pissing a lot of people off. But that was Cindy: her way or no way.
I couldn’t believe how lucky we were. Here I was worried about finding a place to say goodbye to him and Cindy had given us the perfect spot, right where we were. Max pushed his lips to my skin. I forced my hands up into his hair. It felt like a lifetime since I’d touched him. His hands slid up around my neck and under my ears. His fingers tangled in my hair. He pulled his lips away smiling, teasing me to push to him. My mouth open, his breath filled me. We inhaled every moment with each other. Our kiss danced and tied every memory of our weekend together. Visions of him flashed vividly across my closed eyes. His taste—the sweetest milk chocolate, his resonance of untamed desires, and his scent lured me to visions of a breezy, crisp, snowy white day.
He drew his mouth off mine and stopped kissing me. His sultry green eyes journeyed up and down my face as he pulled away. He told my butterflies to stay active and keep fighting for him. I pressed my body hard against his. My shoulders rose as I knotted my hands back in his hair. His hands clutched my arms and pushed me away. His head dropped to see the last people were leaving the plane.
“We’d better go before Cindy comes looking for us.” His hands still held the space between us.
He stood up and slid to the aisle. He reached up to the storage above my head. He looked so good. His dark T-shirt rose to expose his navel, his Calvin’s band showed just enough to make me want more. The button on his jeans was unsnapped, making them just loose enough to fit my hand. It took everything in my power not to wrap my arms around him and pull his shirt from his body.
“I need to take a mental picture of what I see. Mmm.” I pushed my hands to my face and clicked my imaginary camera. He dropped his chin to look at me. His eyes constricted, making his brow furrow. God was generous when he made Max. He was perfect. My butterflies leaned heavy, trying to tilt me to him.
“Watch yourself.” His jaw clenched and his muscles strained as he plopped my bag down into the seat between us. He pulled his small backpack from above and swung it over his shoulder.
“Here, let me carry your bag for you.” He pulled it out of the chair, allowing me to slip in front of him in the aisle. Behind him the attendant waited to make sure we left the plane.
“Thank you, Max.” My hand bounced on the top of each seat as I moseyed down the aisle and out of the plane.
Cindy met us halfway down the walkway.
“What took you so long?” She flipped her hair back from across her shoulders. “Oh, Mr. Goldstein.” She looked at my duffel bag he was carrying.
“Wilson’s bag was stuck in the storage compartment. She couldn’t get it out.” He turned to me. “Here you go.” He handed me my bag. I took it and wedged it across my shoulder against my neck.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“Are you guys the last ones off the plane?” She looked around noticing there was nobody walking behind us.
“Yeah, none of the attendants would help me. Thanks again, Mr. Goldstein.” I glanced at him before I looked at Cindy. “Did you get your suitcase?”
“No, I went to the bathroom then waited for you to come off the plane.” She studied my expression then Max’s. I could see the wheels turning in her head.
“Let’s go then, before someone walks off with your suitcase.” I paced ahead of them.
“Well, Mr. Max Goldstein, it looks like you are Wilson’s knight in shining armor.” She elbowed him as she walked next to him. A smirk grew across her face.
“No, just her government teacher who was able to help when she asked.” He looked down at the ground then back up to her. I slowed my stride and strained to hear what she was saying.
“I saw the way she looked at you. She has it for you.” Cindy looked like she’d just discovered gold.
“No, I don’t think so.” He swallowed hard.
“Whatever! She likes you. Her heart must be totally broken knowing you have a girlfriend. Trust me, Max, she’s into you.” She smiled, smug and content. He smiled back and didn’t say another word.
My heart was crashing against my ribcage so hard, I swear I could see it pounding. She knows. Cindy has figured it out. It was written all over my face, how could she not see it? My knees went weak and my hands numb. This meant trouble. She was like the Santa Ana winds—if even a spark existed, huge wildfires would ensue, devastating anything in their way, including Max.
“I’ll meet you at the baggage claim,” I told them as I slipped into the restroom. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and called Max. He answered it on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Max, you can’t let her know about us,” I whispered. I heard him put his hand over the phone and tell her he had to take the call. He would see her at the baggage claim.
“I know. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she keeps thinking I have a girlfriend,” his voice was really low.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to meet you tonight. She’ll know something’s up with us if I leave tonight,” I rambled into the phone. I didn’t know what to think. I was totally caught off guard with her comments.
“Hey, don’t say that. I don’t want to let her win with us. I’ll chalk it up to a student crush you have on your teacher. Let’s just wait and see,” he struggled with what he meant to say.
“You have to leave before I meet Cindy at the baggage claim. Call me when you’re gone.” I held the phone tight to my ear. I didn’t want to miss any words he said to me.
“I still want to see you tonight. Don’t let her scare you off. Not now, Wilson. We’ll figure it out. Text me when you get back to the dorms,” his voice became low and vulnerable, taunting me with my need to see him before he left the airport.
“Max, she will ruin everything. Is that a chance you want to take?” It killed me to tell him I couldn’t see him tonight.
“Yes it’s a chance I want to take. Hey, I understand your hesitation. So I’ll tell you what—I will wait for you,” he grow
led slowly as his breath pulled me in. “If you text , I will come get you; and if you don’t, I will see you Monday fourth period. Fair enough?” he waited for me to answer. It took a moment.
“Fair enough. Max?” I heard him release his breath into the phone.
“Yeah,” his voice bounced light with hope.
“Don’t forget to text me when you leave. Okay?” I whispered.
“I won’t. Bye, Wilson,” he answered, taking a deep, heart-wrenching breath.
“Bye, Max.” I pulled the phone from my ear. This bathroom was much nicer than the airplane’s. I used it, washed my hands, and pulled the door open. Maybe there was a way to sneak a peek of Max before he left. I just had to make sure I wouldn’t get caught.
I got to see Max grab his duffel bag from the baggage claim. He tossed a wave to Cindy and I watched him pull his phone out of his pocket as he left through the sliding doors. Just outside he stopped. His head hung down, he focused on his phone, and I watched him text me. My phone chimed with the message as he turned and disappeared.
I’M GONE. PLSE THINK ABOUT 2-NITE. I WANT 2 C U. W8 2 HEAR FROM U. THNKN ABOUT U. I read it twice. He’s thinking about me.
THANX. IM THNKN ABOUT U2! WANT 2 C U2. WE’LL C ABOUT 2NITE. MISS U ALREDY.
As I walked up on Cindy getting her bag from the luggage corral, she was cursing under her breath.
“There you are. You totally missed Max. He left in a hurry. So sad for you.” Her body jerked forward as her suitcase fell to the floor. A twinge of regret fluttered through my chest. Maybe I shouldn’t have overreacted about Cindy.
“You’re so ice cold about Mr. Goldstein. I don’t ‘have it bad’ for him.” I started for the sliding doors—the same ones Max had left out of ten minutes earlier.
“You heard me telling him? Well, you can thank me later. I totally planted the seed for you.” She wheeled her suitcase behind her as she caught up to me. My blood began to boil. I didn’t want her to even consider Max and me an option. I needed to get her off the idea that she was going to set us up. Besides, with her vindictive personality, she would do it then turn around and destroy us.
“Cindy, there is nothing to thank you for. And I can plant my own seeds. I really don’t need your help.” I stopped and waited to cross the road.
“So you admit that if you had seeds, you would plant them in his garden?” She nudged me with her elbow.
“No, I don’t need to plant any seeds in any garden. Mr. Goldstein has a gardener. Didn’t you hear him? He has a girlfriend.” I crossed as soon as the man in a uniform covered with an orange mesh vest blew his whistle and motioned for us to do so.
“Leave it to me, I know how to turn the dirt and pull the weeds. He’s gonna be roto-tilled and ready when I’m done working my magic.” She snapped a Z pattern out in front of her. I actually felt throw-up burn in the back of my throat. Now I understood what that expression ‘she leaves a bad taste in my mouth,’ really meant.
“Okay, David Blaine. We’ve gotta get going. Remember the summary that’s due on the first half of Romeo and Juliet? I was so busy checking out the guy’s tights, I didn’t really follow the story much. It could be the fact that it was older than dirt. I think it was filmed in the sixties.” I stopped and looked for her car.
“I know, totally ancient,” Cindy answered as she dug out her keys and pressed the locator button. Her car horn beeped and its lights flashed. We were actually not too far off. “I couldn’t even hang with the special effects. I thought I was going to throw up when they started dancing. She should have rented the one with Leonardo DiCaprio. Oh, how I would love to cultivate his garden.” She continued as she pushed another button on her car and the trunk popped open.
I wish she would stop about the freaking gardens. It’s played out. She struggled with her suitcase, loading it into the back. With no room left for my duffel bag, I put it down by my feet and let it lean heavy against my shins.
The drive back to Wesley was uneventful. We made small talk about homework. Most teachers didn’t assign any over the weekend—but the ones that did really stuck it to us. Mrs. Clouser assigned us the summary of the crappy sixties movie, Romeo and Juliet. But we only have to summarize half of the movie, because that was all we saw. Mr. Swanks, our trigonometry teacher, assigned all the odd problems from three pages in our math book. And Mr. Kemp, well he didn’t really assign homework, just an extra credit lab if we needed it. Of course, I could’ve used the extra points.
I couldn’t stop thinking about sneaking away to see Max, though. I had no idea where we would go, but just the fact that I could see him tonight started to win the argument in my head. Cindy has no idea Max and I are involved with each other. If she did, she would be all over it. Maybe I could get Joanie to take me to meet him. Or I could catch the bus and ride it out a couple of stops until I got far enough away to call him.
I could do my summary when I get back to the dorms today; and since trigonometry was fifth period I could spend my lunch in the library tomorrow. Totally forget the lab for chemistry. I’ll have to ace the next couple of tests to keep my B+.
Chemistry—now that was something I could relate to and I’m not talking about my class. Max and I had it. I could feel it. He made things mix and bubble in my body, even explode. Not to mention the butterflies he trained to send me reeling when I was around him.
That was it, I was going to see him tonight. But only if I got most of my summary done. There, that was my compromise. Not bad, I could do it. I felt better now that I’d made up my mind. And just in time. Cindy pulled into the driveway of our dorms. The swirling knots that overtook my stomach and started surging up my throat were unexpected. My hands tingled and became damp. The muscles in my back tightened, rippling up through my shoulders and across my neck. Wait a minute, I made up my mind already. There was no reason to start freaking out. It was the same old place where I’ve spent three years of my life. It was where I got my first B in science, where I found out Jasmine Cushing liked the same boy as me. She ended up dating him and telling me later that he was a jerk. It’s where I met Max and fell in love with him.
Yeah, I said it, the ‘L’ word. Does it feel a little too soon? Sure, but I have a real connection with him. He could finish my sentences or jump in front of me if a tiger escaped in the zoo. He had this way about him that reassured me of his desires for me. Just me, the way I was—tattered, bruised, and alone—he saw past all the bullshit.
I loved that. I wasn’t going to lie.
“Wilson, come on. I don’t want to hang in the parking lot,” Cindy yelled from the back of the car as she slammed the trunk. I caught my breath as it jarred me from a suspended state of ‘Max On My Mind.’ I pushed my bag out from beneath my feet and climbed out of her car.
That’s when I realized I’d forgotten to text Joanie and tell her I was on my way home. She was going to be mad, hurt, and disappointed in me. I think that was what would stress my relationship with Joanie the most—it wasn’t guys or other friends, it was the fact that I would forget to do things normal family members did.
I wish my excuses were sufficient, but they never were. The fact that I was never taught or I wasn’t wired to be that way wouldn’t fly with her. She has been my best friend for nine years. And for those nine years she has tried to get me to be more responsive to the common courtesy of a phone call or note, neither of which I’ve been able to master.
On the other hand, maybe that was what balanced us so much. She did enough for both of us. She was rock solid, a predictable constant, and the refuge I could seek anytime I needed it. She knew what it took to keep me grounded. I gave her the excuse to cut loose and show the side of her only a few people really knew. I also gave her the perfect friendship through forgetfulness. Events never really stuck with me. I’ve always been that way. It was easier to let it go than to catalogue everything that happened in my life. If something pissed me off, I dealt with it and let it go. I didn’t harbor anger or let resentment fester into a gn
arly mass of hate. Though I will say, Cindy has pushed me further than most.
I pulled out my cell phone and called Joanie. It only rang once.
“Hey, J,” I said fast.
“Hi, Wilson. Where are you?” she sounded excited.
“Here in the parking lot. I forgot to call you from Denver. Sorry,” I apologized.
“Why are you sorry? I’ll be right there.” The phone went silent.
“J? Joanie?” She hung up.
I kept walking behind Cindy. I figured at some point she was going to need my help picking up her brick-filled suitcase.
Joanie met us on the path. She was smiling so wide it caused her eyes to squint.
“Hi, Cindy.” Joanie gave her a hug and Cindy answered back with a slight one arm hug and a pat on the back.
“Hi, Joanie. I am so exhausted. Glad to be back.” She let go and started rolling past her.
I stood there. We both flung our arms around each other. She was taller than me so her arms wrapped around my neck. I squeezed her around her ribcage. I knew I’d missed her, but didn’t realize just how much until now.
“Wilson, I missed you,” Joanie whined.
“I missed you, too. There’s so much to tell you,” I said low enough so Cindy wouldn’t hear.
She tightened her arms around my neck and squealed before she let go and pulled me along.
Cindy was already in our room and putting her clothes away when J and I came in. Our dorm building was two levels. Luckily for us, our room was on the first floor. I have to say there was something comforting about being back. After three years at this place, it starts to grow on you—it’s home. Joanie plopped onto my bed, wedging her hand against her ear, waiting to hear what happened.
“So, how was the weekend?” she asked both of us. I looked at Cindy and she looked at Joanie.
“Well, it was really awesome. Right when we got there I called all my besties and told them that I was there, then they all came over that night for a ragin’ party.” She smiled at me as she winked and tossed her hair back from her face. I looked at Joanie, then back at Cindy.
The Wilson Mooney Box Set Page 24
