“Sorry, Miss Shields. I’ve got somewhere I need to be.” I don’t stick around long enough to watch her jaw drop to the floor, but as I pass, I hear her sharp intake of breath.
The short delay has made it impossible for me to catch up to Arleen. I really just want to see her face again before she makes it to her classroom.
I take a deep breath and smile widely when I realize I’m about to cut through the library just to intercept her.
It’s absurd, and it makes absolutely no sense at all, but I can’t contain my laughter as I jog through the library and get to her classroom door just as she’s rounding the corner.
For the life of me, I can’t remove the smile from my face.
Because I know—I really know—that I’m about to kiss her, and there’s nothing either of us can do to stop it. This thought makes my stomach flip more than anything else ever has.
Her hair is covering most of her face, and it looks like she’s grinding her teeth. She hasn’t seen me yet, so I back up casually against the wall, cross my arms over my chest, and keep my smile in place. If she looks up even briefly, she’ll see me and have to acknowledge me.
She has to feel this.
How can she not? My entire body is buzzing with whatever this is.
She quickens her pace, looking like she’s got something on her mind. When she glances up briefly toward the door, her eye catches mine, and she slows to a stop.
Students file into the classroom, but she continues to watch me. She takes no notice of the people passing her and her shoulders slouch. Her face looks sort of panicky even though I’m still smiling. I can’t stop. I must look a little freaky standing there with a gaping grin on my face.
But I feel it—this tension in the air between us. It’s mesmerizing.
She must feel it too.
Because even though I can’t put my finger on why, there has never been a girl I was more certain about kissing than Arleen Carson.
I close the distance between us and watch as the air empties from her chest and her body tenses.
I need her to feel this.
I loop the necklace that’s in my pocket around my finger just before I reach for her, and as the locket dangles from my thumb, I cup her cheek in my hand.
She swallows and closes her eyes. “Please, Simon.”
I hear her plea and inch my lips closer.
“Don’t,” she whispers.
My eyes open wide as I see her fear. Not the kind of fear of the unknown. Or the kind that she’s scared that people will see us.
Jesus. Is she scared of me?
I look around the hall, and the few people that are lingering aren’t paying any attention to us. But I still feel like I’ve got a knife in my chest.
It’s more than embarrassing. It’s desire at its worst met with denial at its best.
She really doesn’t feel this, does she?
My eyes close on their own accord as I slowly shake my head. I look back into her eyes one last time to see if I’ve misread her, to see if there’s some other reason hidden behind them as to why she isn’t kissing me.
But I see nothing.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll leave you alone.” I feel like I’m about to puke as the words come out.
Her eyes brim with tears, but I don’t stick around long enough to watch one fall.
I have my own wounds to nurse.
Chapter Fifteen
Now that I know Arleen will never be here before nine o’clock, I can use this place for what it has always been for me—well, what it had been to me before I found Arleen here a month ago.
I rake my hands through my hair and try to calm my heartbeat, but there’s so much building inside that I can’t bear to let it stay. The only thing I can think to do is scream.
Within thirty seconds I’ve screamed every combination of curse words imaginable. And damn, it feels good.
“You missed debate tonight.” The whisper comes from the corner, and I swing around to see Arleen standing near the broken wall.
My nostrils flare and I feel once again like the village idiot. Now, not only has she turned me down, but she is witness to my frustration about it.
“So?” I grab my backpack and begin my exit. Fuck this. I’m done.
“The first thing you need to know is that Miss Shields paired us up for the debate tournament in Saint Louis in two weeks.” She speaks quickly, before I can leave.
I stop a few feet in front of her and flex my jaw. “Well, I’ll make sure I speak to Miss Shields about that. Don’t worry, you won’t have to see me.”
“Simon, wait. Please.”
I fling my backpack off my shoulder and toss it to the ground. “Why? What’s the point? You’ve made it clear how you feel, and I don’t intend on being someone who sticks around where he’s not wanted. Sticking around isn’t really my gig.” My voice is stern, my insinuation obvious. She had to know my reputation. I had always been a bang ‘em and leave ‘em sort of guy.
But with her I hadn’t wanted to be.
I was an idiot.
Her eyes squint shut. “The second thing you need to know—”
“Yes. I already know, Arleen. How about we avoid rehashing this? Believe me, I get it.”
“You know, for someone so smart, you’re pretty fucking stupid. So shut up and come here!”
I look at the space between us and realize that if I come any closer I’ll be in dangerous territory. “What do you want, Arleen?” I ask without moving.
She looks down to the ground and back up, a stream of tears running down her cheeks. I feel guilty for making her cry but I can’t move toward her. I just can’t. I’d already put too much on the line for her. I’m done ripping myself open for someone who doesn’t want me.
“I like you more than I should,” she begins. “The things I’ve heard, the things I know…” Her brow creases as she trails off. She’s struggling to find her words, and the space around us suddenly feels much smaller. I feel like she’s on the verge of some kind of realization—or perhaps it’s me who is.
“I’m sick of feeling like I have nobody!” she shouts, mimicking my frustration from minutes earlier. “I think about this constantly. You’re absolutely fucking perfect, and I have no idea if what you say is how you truly feel, or if it’s…” She trails off, not brave enough to finish the sentence. “Do you have any idea how it feels to be cast aside and unwanted? Of course you don’t! What could you possibly know about being unwanted? You spend half your life up girls’ skirts!” she spits out bitterly.
She obviously has only half the truth. I wish this wasn’t so confusing. This shouldn’t be so hard! We’re kids, for fuck’s sake. The hard stuff should be a good five to ten years down the road!
“What do you want from me, Arleen?” I ask, sounding tired and defeated.
She uncovers her face and stands with confidence. “I want you to kiss me, Simon.”
My head jerks up and I meet her eyes. Hers are intense and unwavering.
“What?” I ask, not sure I heard her correctly.
“Don’t make me say it again, Simon,” she says, her voice a plea.
I take a step toward her, and her arms wrap around herself. I don’t know what I feel. I can’t place it. I don’t know if I should kiss her, or if I’ll be sorry that I did. Will I regret it if I let this moment pass by, or will I wake up in the morning beating myself up for going there in the first place?
And I don’t know if I should take a minute to think this through, or if I should just do what I want to do.
Because every last part of me is telling me to go to her.
“Just please, whatever you do, don’t kiss me like you do all the others. I just need to feel like someone special. I couldn’t bear the thought of this being some kind of game—”
Before she finishes her sentence, my lips crash against hers.
In all the girls I’ve been with, I never knew what it felt like not to be the one holding all the cards. I was used to
being the one to leave. I was never emotionally invested. I could get up and go without thinking twice.
But I know right now, at this very moment, that if she were to turn and walk away she could quite possibly ruin me.
I’m in deeper than I’ve ever been before. Yet the thought of turning around and leaving at this very moment eats me up from the inside.
Her lips are softer than I imagined, and her breath is even sweeter. It’s awkward at first because I’m so eager, but then I let myself take a breath and I slow my pace, soaking her in.
All of my frustration from minutes ago has vanished, and my insides feel solid again. And yet there’s still something strangely unnerving. Because the closer I allow myself to get to Arleen, the more the future I had planned with Miss Shields fades away.
She’s caressing my tongue with hers as she throws her arms behind my neck. I pull her closer until there is no longer any space between us.
“Simon, I’m so sorry.”
I don’t reply, but my lips confirm what I’m thinking:
There’s no need for an apology as long as you stay with me.
I let the swarm of butterflies dance in my stomach as we kiss. Butterflies I have never in all my eighteen years felt until this moment.
Chapter Sixteen
It was something I’d never imagined was possible for me—feeling close to someone. For two hours, Arleen and I kissed. We let our hands roam, but never allowed anything more. It wasn’t even needed. Which, again, is something I never thought I’d say.
It’s been three days – an entire weekend – and I haven’t seen her. I can’t say I blame her, though. It was frightening in a way. The night had been too intense, like a cocoon around us. It was overwhelming and stifled all common sense. Because the second we parted ways early the next morning, I’d already missed her.
Perhaps humans are born with a natural instinct to love and be loved, and it’s only nurture that keeps us from believing we’re worthy of it. For those who’ve been there before, the fear of having someone taken away feels like it burdens the heart more than it’s worth.
Once was enough.
Twice would be devastating.
If she’s feeling what I am right now, then I can understand why getting too close to me would be considered a risk.
Yet my emotion and logic are waging war against each other.
Her absence these last three days has given me some time to think through all the things I should’ve before now.
What am I doing?
Am I really just replacing one obsession with another?
And did Arleen really want me? Or did she just want to feel someone close to her? She had said, after all, that she just wanted to feel special. What if the who didn’t really matter?
But who was I to question her motives when mine could be construed as just as shady?
The weekend takes me through a myriad of anger.
At my parents.
At her parents.
At my future.
At her past.
At the countless girls who allowed me to use them.
And mostly I am angry at myself.
All of it swirls in my head and it feels like it’s all going to burst out of me. In four short weeks I’ve completely changed. The way I act. The way I think. The way I feel.
And I have the right to be mad!
I lived in a perfect little box where my every move was justified, every word was heard, and every thought had meaning. Now I’m questioning everything I am and everything I was.
I can’t do this.
I can’t keep living in a dreamland with Arleen at the ruins. I can’t forgo the cozy life I had before. I was in control. I was in demand.
Miss Shields was the only thing that kept my feet grounded. She was the only thing that gave me purpose. Without my obsession, I have nothing.
I’ll just have to speak to Miss Shields about Saint Louis. I’ll tell her that Arleen and I can’t be debate partners and that we shouldn’t spend time together.
Because that sounds super mature of me.
But I don’t see anything else to do. I need to think of something to get my world back on track.
***
“I don’t think I should be partnered with Arleen for the debate in St. Louis,” I say confidently, watching Miss Shields closely as she takes her eyes off her computer and focuses on me.
“Oh, really? Why is that?”
“It just doesn’t seem fair,” I state.
She chews the inside of her cheek and removes her glasses. “Fair?”
I shrug. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to brag, but shouldn’t you pair up your most gifted students with others who are less competent?”
“No. I don’t think so.” She shakes her head. “Because if we get into the final round, we’re going to need our two best debaters paired up.”
Shit.
“Well,” I stammer, “what if I told you that Arleen and I have professional differences?”
She snorts and sets her glasses on the desk.
Okay, so I guess I didn’t think the conversation would need to get this detailed.
“Professional differences?” She crosses her arms over her chest. “This doesn’t sound like you. What kind of professional differences could the two of you possibly have?”
Dammit. I can’t tell her it’s because Arleen has spectacularly rejected me. I’ll look like a total tool. I’m going to have to take a different route.
“It just seems to me that you’d be doing your job better if you spread the talent throughout the group. You know, instead of lumping the best all together.” My temples feel damp and I hope to God she’s buying this.
“Is there something you need to discuss with me, Simon?” She leans over her desk. Her new position gives me a clear shot of her cleavage and I barely notice.
I swallow. “No. It’s just—”
“It isn’t ‘just’ anything, Simon. You either have a problem with Arleen or you don’t.” She shifts in her chair slightly. “You can tell me anything, you know.” Rising from her seat, she runs her index finger over the desk as she walks around it. She positions herself between me and the desk and rests her ass against the surface. “Are you nervous about Saint Louis? Is that the problem?”
I can feel my pulse in my neck and I swear my jaw drops at her insinuating tone. I don’t think I’m imagining the underlying message. She’s not asking me if I’m nervous about the debate; she’s asking if I’m nervous about spending the night with her.
“Should I be?” My voice cracks.
She smiles and crosses her ankles casually. Her arms are behind her now, her hands resting on the desk. “Maybe a little. I know I am,” she says, her voice heavy with subtext.
Arleen suddenly bombards my mind.
Images of her hair, her skin, and the stupid locket I still carry in my pocket are flooding over me all at once. I try to block it out by closing my eyes, but the images only become clearer. Her damn beautiful smile infiltrates my moment with Katie.
“I should go.”
“Simon—”
I’m reaching for the doorknob before she can finish her sentence. “See you tomorrow, Miss Shields.”
I shut the door and head straight for the bathroom. After locking myself in a stall, I lean back against the door and wipe the sweat from my brow.
“Dammit!”
Chapter Seventeen
I’m mad. I’m mad. I’m mad. I’m mad. I recite it over and over to myself as I walk to debate. Arleen still hasn’t spoken to me, which is fine. It seems every time she opens her mouth I find something more to love about her. And I did not need that complication in my life.
Shit!
I did not just say love! I meant like. I meant like!
I groan.
With Miss Shields refusing to let me swap partners, it seems I’m stuck. I just need to stick to my original plan and not let Arleen affect me.
“Listen up, everyone!”
Miss Shields begins as I take my seat in the library. “I just got the debate subject for Saint Louis. So I want everyone to break up into the pairs that were assigned to you last week and begin your research.” The thirty students in the library all have their attention focused on our coach, but my eyes are glued to the floor. I can feel Arleen stealing glances in my direction as Miss Shields continues, but I can’t hear any voice outside of the one in my own mind.
It’s not like I’m supposed to marry the girl. I’m eighteen years old! I’m supposed to go to college and drink and have sex and eat Ramen noodles and worry about tests and homework! I can’t be concerned about a girl who’s obviously done well enough taking care of herself for the past six years.
She hasn’t tried to contact me or visit the ruins in the past seventy-two hours. She probably doesn’t want anything to do with me! Our insanely sexy kissing session was a total fluke. Or worse, something she regrets.
Whatever, I’ll bet she has health issues and detachment issues and drug issues! Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. She probably has a shitload of drama that I don’t need to deal with. I simply don’t have room in my life for someone with that much baggage.
She’ll only weigh me down.
My pathetic attempt to convince myself I’m better off without Arleen fails, and I completely miss the debate topic announcement. I glance around at the commotion of everyone rising from their seats and splitting into pairs.
But it’s fine. I’m totally fine. Keeping an emotional distance from Arleen is the best thing for me. I almost made the mistake of becoming “invested” in her. I won’t make that mistake again. Whether or not I truly believe it is beside the point; I just need to stay strong and go back to life as I knew it.
Four Play: A Collection of Novellas Page 11
