by Unknown
I turn my head away, “I’m so plain and simple, and the girls I see you with are…well, they are definitely not.”
“Hey,” his fingers get hold of my chin and bring it back so we’re face to face. His voice softens along with his face, “You’re not plain, not even close. I only meant that they’ll be in our business about it all the time. I’m not ready for that. We’ve only just started. I want this just between us.”
We’ve only just started.
“You kill me,” I whisper.
He grins in amusement, “What do you mean?”
I can’t explain it to him. Kissing is one thing, but baring my heart to him is entirely different.
“I want more of this,” I request.
“We’re not stopping,” he argues, like I had just told him we were. “Not yet.”
Not yet. Proof that our time will end. It has to. Dan and a girl like me aren’t meant to be, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy him in the meantime.
I reluctantly leave to sneak into Sam’s room and bed. My stomach grumbles and I briefly consider going to see if there is any pizza left, but I know there won’t be.
She appears twenty minutes later, falling down into the bed.
“We had sex,” Sam whispers into the room.
I turn on my side to face her, “What?”
She lays on her back and talks to the ceiling, “Yeah, about an hour ago. In the back of his truck.”
“Wow,” I say. “How do you feel?”
“Alive.”
“How did it happen?”
“We didn’t plan on this, Hannah, and at first it was the whole off-limits thing that made it exciting, but now I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.”
I’m all too familiar with the situation and I debate telling her, but I don’t. I need this to be a secret.
“It’s Tag.” Sam continues, “Stupid, jerk-face Tag. The boy who always teases me and messes up my hair. But you know what, Hannah? Tonight, he wasn’t that Tag. Tonight, he was…he was so much more. I’ve never had sex feel like that before, like I was dying and coming alive all at the same time. It was scary and perfect and now I’m scared shitless because I really like him, Hannah. I think I might even be a little bit in love with him.”
“This is a lot. It’s Tag.” I sound just as taken back about all this as she does.
“I know!”
“How does he feel?”
She smiles, “He says he’s going to marry me and put fifty babies in my belly.”
Yikes, even my family’s not that ambitious. “So he’s pretty serious,” I deadpan, hoping she catches my sarcasm.
“Yeah, but he said it more teasing. I guess you had to be there. In the moment we laughed and then he got so serious. It was right after we had finished and I was in his arms, and he told me this is how it should have been a long time ago, that it killed him any time I was with another guy but he didn’t do anything because of Danny.”
“Why now?”
“That’s what I asked him.”
“What’d he say?”
“He couldn’t do it anymore; he couldn’t pretend he didn’t want me, that I wasn’t on his mind every second of every day.”
We fall silent, both staring up at the ceiling, lost in our heads.
Tag and I have a lot in common. I can’t do it anymore either. I can’t pretend that I don’t want Danny, and I’m going to keep on having him until I can’t; until I’m married or he gets bored with me. I pray that night that neither ever happen.
Chapter 8
I have to force myself to breathe in and out to calm myself as I make my way to Sam’s after vising Mrs. Fraser. I’m riding my bike there as slowly as I can. I don’t know what to expect when I arrive. How am I supposed to act towards Dan if he’s there?
I see his truck, not that it surprises me; he always has an early day on Tuesdays.
For the first time, I stop to think if that has anything to do with me; the rest of the boys work a full day. I shake that thought away. One make-out session and I’m already turning this into some big love affair. I need to get a grip on reality.
I give myself the hundredth pep talk for the day.
You kissed Dan. So what? No big deal.
The butterflies and racing heart beg to differ.
I let out one long breath as I place my bike on the side of the house, and again right before I open the front door.
I made sure to time my arrival for when I knew Sam would already be home from dance class, but I’m still relieved to see her on the couch eating a plate of tacos as she watches some television. Her brother’s nowhere to be seen.
“Just breathe,” I mutter as I turn to close the door.
“Hey,” Sam says around a bite of taco. She holds it up, “Want some?”
I shake my head no and plop down on the couch, reaching for her water and finishing it off.
“You’re later than usual,” she observes.
“Yeah, Mrs. Fraser was more alert today,” I lie, feeling guilty for it.
“Well that’s good.”
“It is,” I agree, except it wasn’t. She’s getting worse: barely eating, sleeping all the time, her body so frail. My heart breaks every time I see her, never knowing if it will be the last time.
I hear footsteps from down the hall, and I hold off looking until my eyes will no longer comply and they glance in Dan’s direction. I watch him get a beer and grab the tacos from the counter. He glances up at me and I flush. I give a small, weak smile, and all I get is a head nod.
He comes over and nods again, “Scoot.”
I move to the middle of the couch so he can have his spot.
The Shepard siblings eat while we all watch the TV. Nothing out of the ordinary (we’ve done it a hundred times), yet it’s different; there’s this current that wasn’t there before.
Is it just me, or can Dan feel it too? It feels strong enough that I even wonder if Sam can sense it.
If either of them does, they don’t act like it.
Dan puts his plate on the coffee table, relaxing back onto the couch, nursing his beer.
There’s a gap between us but I can still feel this electricity, this magnetic pull towards him, and it’s all I can concentrate on.
When Sam gets up to use the bathroom, I slightly stiffen from being left alone in the same room as Danny.
As soon as she’s out of view Dan moves his hand to the back of my neck, his thumb stroking the skin under my ear, “Don’t make this weird.”
I can’t look at him, “I don’t mean to.”
He gives my neck a squeeze,” Look at me.”
“I can’t.”
Dan scoots closer, bringing his lips to my ear, “If you want me to stop, tell me.”
He waits a few beats before he takes my ear into his mouth and gives it a nip and a slight tug. My whole body shivers.
“You like that?”
“I like everything you do to me,”
I feel him smile along my neck as he trails kisses. I close my eyes and get lost in the feeling of his exploring mouth. I finally open them when I realize he’s stopped. He’s all the way back on his side and Sam is coming into view.
She gets ice water and hands it to me, “Here. You look really hot.”
Out of the corner of my eye I see Dan smirk as he takes a sip of beer.
We continue watching TV, as Sam’s usually tired after a long practice. Eventually, it becomes time for me to leave and she gets up to give me a hug goodbye. I hop on my bike, and for the next few blocks I keep thinking I hear my name. I stop to look over my shoulder.
Dan is running after me. He stops, body leaning over, hands resting on his thighs while he pants, bright red from the exertion.
He holds a finger up, “Give me a second.”
As he rises he fans out his shirt, trying to circulate some cool air, “It’s too fucking hot in this town.”
It sure is.
“I need to see you again,” he pants, still try
ing to catch his breath.
“I’ll be here Friday,” I remind him.
“That’s too long. Do you have any chances to get away?”
“I wish.”
“Tonight?”
“I can’t.
He steps in closer and I can feel the heat radiating off of him from his sprint, “Sneak out and come to my bedroom window.”
Sneak out of my house? Sure, the idea has crossed my mind, but I’ve never had the guts to do it. “What if I get too scared?”
Dan takes my face in his hands, his lips coming in and seducing mine until I’m out of breath.
“What time?” Is the only thing I can think to say.
He smiles and presses his lips to mine. One. Two. Three times. “When do you think you can get away?”
“My parents go to bed around ten.”
“As soon as you know they’re asleep, come.” He presses his mouth roughly against mine before backing away. “Please.”
I ride home on autopilot, arguing in my head all the reasons why I shouldn’t, but it’s Danny. I could really care less about the rest.
***
I don’t leave my house until close to eleven-thirty, too afraid if I left any sooner it would wake my parents. As I reach his house I can’t believe I did it. I actually snuck out of my home! It’s both exhilarating and scary as hell.
Dan’s window is open, and as soon as I get close he’s popping his head out.
A wide smile spreads out across his face. “You came,” he whispers into the warm night.
I let my hands fall to my sides, giving him a look that hopefully conveys how unsure I am.
He holds out his hand, “Come on,”
I reach for it and he helps pull me in.
His hands are at my hips as he continues to smile at me, “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”
“I wasn’t sure either,” I admit.
“Why did you?” He urges, pulling me closer.
Because it’s you. I can’t tell him that, so I plead with my eyes for him not to force me to explain.
Dan presses his forehead to mine, and I have a brief moment of self-consciousness because my forehead is sweaty from the heat and my walk. I don’t allow myself to go there. I’m here with Danny. I need to soak this up and remember as much of it as I can.
“You thirsty?”
My forehead nods yes against his.
Dan lets go and moves to his bedside table, handing over the glass of water.
I swallow it down.
“I love watching you drink water,” he laughs.
I blush, “Why’s that?”
“You always drink it like you’re starving for it.”
“I usually am. It’s hot out there,” I defend, placing the empty glass down.
Dan curls a finger, beckoning me to him.
I gulp audibly as I follow him to his bed and he moves me over his lap, helping me to straddle his legs. “You’re in your pajamas.”
I am. It’s cotton pants and a t-shirt. Nothing fancy, and definitely not the least bit sexy.
“Hannah Malone is on my bed in her pajamas,” he says, flabbergasted.
“I can’t believe I’m on Daniel Shepard’s bed in my pajamas,” I answer with just as much disbelief.
His smile recedes slightly and he tucks a piece of fallen hair behind my ear, “What’s going through your head?”
“What do you mean?”
He gestures between the two of us, “What are you thinking about all this?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m excited, nervous, worried–”
He cuts me off, “About what?”
“That this is something you’re doing out of pity.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I begged you to kiss me,” I remind him. “I guess I’m just worried you feel sorry for me.”
“I do,” he’s quick to respond.
A lump clogs my throat and I can’t swallow past it, his words cutting me deep.
“But only because it’s so fucked up what your parents are doing. It’s your life. I don’t get why they have a say in who you marry.”
“They have the say.”
“That’s wrong. It shouldn’t be like that. You shouldn’t have to sneak over here or lie to them why you do.”
I agree, but what can I do?
Dan leans in, kissing me, “This isn’t out of pity.”
I push him away to get a better view of his face, wanting to see if I can read the answer in his expression, “What is it then?”
“I don’t know,” he answers, and I can read the truth behind his irises.
I didn’t know either.
“I do know I don’t want it to stop.”
I agree the only way I can. I lean in and kiss him with everything I have, will all the years I longed to do it but never could. Dan responds back with just as much fervor and we become a tangled mess on the sheets.
I can’t believe this is my life. I can’t believe that I’m on Dan’s bed, he’s on top of me, and we’re kissing like this, with so much desperation and eagerness.
The time for me to leave comes before I’m ready. In all truth, there would never be a time I’d be ready to leave.
Danny hops out of the window to walk me safely home. We don’t talk as we walk, but he does slip his fingers through mine and we hold hands the whole way. We round the corner to my street and he pulls me to him, securely holding me in his arms. I hold him back, letting minutes pass by.
I close my eyes as tight as I can and I take in the way it feels to have him hold me, the smell of him, the warmth outside, his lips in my hair, my swollen lips, his hard body against mine, the summer air, everything. I want to remember it all, and one day when I’m old and gray and thinking about all the things I would have done differently, I can smile at this memory and know that at this particular moment in time I wouldn’t change a thing.
Chapter 9
I’ve snuck over to see Dan every night for the past two weeks, our bodies so entwined that the memories alone leave me breathless.
By Saturday, eleven days after I first snuck into his room, I’m practically falling asleep as I prepare dinner. I’ve only gotten a few hours of sleep every night, as Danny usually walks me home around four in the morning and I’m up by seven. I guess the lack of sleep is finally catching up to me, adrenaline no longer enough to keep me going.
“Set the table for six tonight,” my mom informs me as I try not to fall asleep while mashing the potatoes.
“Six?”
“Yes, we have guests tonight.”
I should have guessed. My mom made her pot roast; something she does whenever she wants to impress people (and it does, every time).
“Who?” I inquire.
“The Nelsons,” she answers back so easy-breezy that it makes me queasy with dread.
“The Nelsons?” I probe further, wanting to get more information.
My mom won’t look at me, trying to come across as casual but I can tell she’s giddy with excitement, “You know them from Church. Their son Josh just got back from South America?”
“Right.” I do remember them and how our church recently celebrated when Josh came home after volunteering dental care with a non-profit group.
“What for?” I ask, feeling unnerved.
“It’s nothing.” She waves it off, but the large smile on her face tells me it’s not so casual. “Your father just thought it would be nice to have them over.”
Bullshit is what I want to say, but I’m not stupid, “Oh, well that’s thoughtful of him.”
She comes over and fusses with some hair that has fallen out of my braid, “Why don’t you go upstairs and freshen up?”
My suspicion grows even more as I follow her orders. It gnaws at my stomach as I fix my hair and splash cold water on my face. I look up and say a prayer to God, “Please don’t let this be what I think it is.”
The Nelsons arrive not long after I’ve set the table and have the appeti
zers ready.
My dad is glowing. The last time he was this chipper for guests was when he introduced Lauren to her husband.
I want to go hide, preferably in another state. Better yet, I’ll go take Josh’s place in South America.
We exchange greetings and Josh presents me with a bouquet of pink roses, “For you.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I accept the flowers with a smile, even though what I want to do is throw them on the ground and stomp on them. “Thank you.”
My mom brings our visitors to the formal living room, which we reserve for when guests come over or holidays. I start to follow her to the kitchen to gather the drinks and appetizers, but she affectionately places a hand on my shoulder and smiles, “Stay. Talk with our guests.”
My mom always makes me help in the kitchen, so now I’m positive this is it, the moment I’ve been dreading my whole life: the day I meet my future husband.
I take a seat on the couch with my father, opposite the Nelsons.
They make small talk, every so often including the “children” in the conversation. I take the time to observe Josh, the man my father seems to believe is my perfect match.
Josh isn’t terrible looking, but I never thought he would be; my dad has too much pride not to choose someone perfectly fit on the outside. He’s polished, hair combed and groomed, wearing slacks with a sweater vest and tie. Nice face. Not hot like the boys I hang around with, but appealing nonetheless. His hair is dark, but his eyes aren’t pale enough; they’re just a boring, normal blue. His eyelashes are pretty incredible though, I’ll give him that.
Josh is polite and courteous, and when my mom brings out the appetizers he makes sure I get to have some first even though I protest that he’s our guest.
My parents are smitten, giving approving nods and smiles full of warmth and affection.
Josh’s perfect behavior is only sealing my fate. I contemplate things I can do to make him disgusted with me and leave: I could begin burping a lot, or just let one rip, maybe offer him some alcohol if we had any. Maybe eat with my mouth open? Sadly, I’m not brave enough to do any of them. What’s even sadder is all those ideas might actually work.
My parents have us sitting next to each other at dinner, a sure sign if I still needed one; I’ve never been allowed to sit next to a male besides my father.
