Lost Cause

by Callie Sparks

  I stiffen, but don’t turn around. Act natural, dammit.

  My shoulders slump, and I have to brace myself against the kitchen counter, wondering what he’ll look like, what he’ll do when I turn around. I muster the courage and whirl. He looks shy and even more out-of-sorts than I do, like that ten year old boy who used to come over to my house, hoping to play. “You’re afraid of me?”

  He glides toward me, bridging the distance, and takes me into his arms. I press my cheek against his chest, listening to the steady thud of his heartbeat. I feel like somehow, despite being away from each other for so long, we’ve grown to fit so well; I’m perfectly nestled in the space under his chin, and his arms hold me like they never could before. He’s my best friend, now and always.

  “I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of what I could do to you.”

  I pull away and stare at him. “What you could do?”

  He nods.

  “Noah. I’m not that twelve year old girl. I’ve had sex before. A lot of it. I’ve even been meaninglessly screwed before by a lot less worthy people than you, and I survived.” Which is not exactly true, since Gabe is the only one, but whatever. Gabe is shit, and everything we did was meaningless. Noah blinks, surprised, so I toughen my voice to hide the lie and say, “You don’t need to protect me from you. I’m okay.”

  He inhales sharply, then lets it out slowly. “No. You’re more than that. You’re perfect. And that’s what I’m afraid of.”

  #

  We pulled into the stately River Oaks development, back to those sprawling mansions, and Noah nearly crashed his forehead against the window, gaping at them. When my dad stopped the car at Claire’s house, I saw his adam’s apple bob in his throat.

  I tugged on the present on his lap. “You should probably just leave this here. It’s a new-school-year party. Not a birthday party.”

  “I know,” he said, looking at the neatly wrapped cube. “But I thought it’s nice to bring a thank-you-for-inviting-me gift.”

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to burst his bubble, but Claire would probably roll her eyes at him and then resort to making fun of him, calling him a “freak” not-so behind his back, the rest of the night. Even though she did invite him. I was actually kind of surprised that she did. For the past few parties my friends had had, I’d had to ask if he could come as a favor, and it was always met with a grunt and a “whatever.” They didn’t understand why I’d become so fond of the little geek, but it wasn’t that.

  I didn’t want to be on the outs when all the kissing went on.

  Which it always did. They’d all couple off and start making out. And at least, if it was me and Noah, we could hang out and blow up balloons or play tic-tac-toe on festive party napkins or whatever.

  And now . . . this was the worst. Claire’s house, the shark pit of them all. The only consolation was that it was an outdoor pool party. Even though night was falling and it was early-September chilly, Claire couldn’t resist an opportunity to show off her boobs in a bikini. Which was good for me, because it was dark and I had a reason to keep my t-shirt on.

  As we climbed up the sloping driveway to the high white fence around her mansion, I looked down at my cover-up, my chest still flat as ever. I hadn’t shown any of the changes that fifth-grade health class told me girls would experience—no tingling boobs, no hairy places, no cramps. And kissing was still as gross and frightening as ever. Jacy was right in telling me to grow up. I wanted to, and badly. But at this point, the other parts of my body weren’t cooperating. I wondered if it was entirely possible for a person to skip puberty altogether and be a child her entire life.

  Before I lifted the latch on the gate, I looked back at Noah, who looked like he was about to come face-to-face with a firing squad. I smiled. “Fun,” I said, to remind us what this was supposed to be.

  The second we got in, though, I started to sweat and my stomach flip-flopped. There were boys strolling around in bathing suits, and Claire wasn’t the only one in a bikini. Despite the chill, everywhere I looked, there were bikini-clad girls, lying out on lounge chairs. Boobs aplenty. I crossed my arms over my front and noticed they all had manicures and pedicures, too. They all had cute hair-styles. I’d been fighting with my mom over her wanting me to get all of the above, and now I wished I hadn’t. I made a mental note to have a girl’s spa day with my mom soon as I watched Gabe Hill checking out the asses of a few of the girls on the deck. Despite it being nearly dark, he was wearing sunglasses, which he flipped down as he whistled at Mari and another girl, who were comparing tan-lines.

  I looked over at Noah. He couldn’t have looked any more out of it if he’d had an inflatable duck around his waist and flippers on his feet. He clasped his towel to his chest and gaped. When I turned, I realized what he was gaping at.

  Claire’s boobs had gotten bigger, or her bikinis were getting smaller, or both. Her huge boobs were pouring out of the triangles on her top. I almost felt embarrassed for her, until I realized all the attention she was getting wasn’t exactly the bad kind. From boys, mostly. I went to whisper something to Noah and realized his gaze was appreciative.

  He was a guy, after all.

  “Hey,” Claire said, mostly to me. She held up a red Solo cup. “Come on in. Have sex on the beach.”

  Now it was my turn to gape.

  She laughed. “It’s a drink! Virgin, though.” Then she leaned forward and said in a low, sexy voice, “Though I think you two probably get all hot and heavy when no one’s around, huh? Considering how attached you are to one another.”

  I shook my head. My cheeks blazed. Okay, we’d been at church together. Big deal. I thought keeping my distance from Noah during school hours more than compensated for me having asked a few people to invite him to their parties. “What? No way!”

  She smiled sweetly. “Just kidding.” Then her eyes flicked over to Noah. She gave him the once-over, tapping her finger on her lips. “But hmm. There is something different about you, Templeton.”

  He looked at the ground. His voice cracked when he said, “Like what?” It was heartbreaking, because he was trying so hard to be tough that you could almost see the thought-bubble channeling the Hulk hovering over his head.

  She continued to tap on her chin. “I don’t know. But . . . I dare say summer has been very good to you. Our little baby is growing up! Don’t you think so, Ari?” She pulled me next to her, so that we could both appraise him appropriately.

  I had just been thinking that, in the weeks before. Every time I saw him, over the summer, he looked like a new version of himself. He was growing, where I’d stopped—I no longer towered over him, and was in fact one of the shorter kids in class. His body was filling out, likely due to the weight-lifting he was doing, because his t-shirt didn’t droop sadly on him anymore. But there were other things, strange things. I thought weight-lifting would give him confidence, but at times he seemed more unsure of himself. He rarely smiled anymore—it took an insane amount of effort nowadays to make him laugh. His eyes seemed darker, and his voice was quieter. When I’d been up to his bedroom, I’d been surprised to see the shelves that used to hold his beloved train models were all empty. I asked him what had happened, and he’d just shrugged and said he wasn’t interested in them anymore. I supposed that was only natural. The death of a sibling would likely throw a cloud over even the happiest home.

  “Yeah, um. He looks good,” I said.

  Then she got this mean little glimmer in her eyes, and I knew trouble was coming.

  She clapped her hands really loud and said, “Hey everyone!”

  As usual, people stopped what they were doing and crowded around her, hanging on her next words.

  “I think it’s time for some games,” she said.

  I looked at Noah and took a step away from her. He did, too, looking just as terrified as I felt. Oh, no. We weren’t getting roped into this.

  But she grabbed onto my wrist and clamped another hand on Noah’s arm, and pulled us both toward
the back of the yard. There was a small pool shed there. She opened the latch and the door creaked open, revealing pool tools and toys. “We don’t have a closet so we’ll have to just do Seven Minutes in the Heavenly Pool Shed,” she announced proudly. “My personal favorite. And I can tell Ari can’t wait to get her hot boyfriend Noah alone so she can put her hands all over him. Right Ari?”

  I stepped away from Noah and hissed, “Stop! He is not my boyfriend!”

  But everyone was looking at me and grinning. And there was Gabe Hill, in the very front, hooting the loudest.

  I just wanted to escape them. I slinked into the shed, careful not to hit my head. When I turned around, Noah followed me in.

  “I hate—“ I began, but Claire was already closing the door, grinning at me mischievously.

  “Have fun, you two!” she said. “Don’t disappoint us. I want to see a hickey at least!”

  “Go for third!” one of the boys called, as I, horrified, looked back at Noah. I couldn’t see his face. It was too dark.

  And I had no idea how to even produce a hickey. I could hear Noah nearby, but I couldn’t tell where he was. Feeling my way around, I found a giant tub of chlorine and sat down on it. We just sat there in awkward silence for a moment. The chemicals burned my nostrils.

  Then, he said, “Well, this is a fun party.”

  I tittered. “Why are we even here?”

  “Because you—“

  Of course. It was all my fault. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I want to hang out with them.”

  “I do. They’re your friends.”

  “I guess, but they’re not yours. And this is torture. Why are you here?”

  “You’re my friend.”

  “Oh. Right,” I said, feeling stupid. I snapped my fingers, intending to wait it out, in the dark, all 420 seconds of it, right on that chlorine tub. Then I thought about all of them, out there, likely listening in. I thought about Gabe. By now he’d have probably gotten to third with me, whatever that was, because just thinking about those dimples rendered me powerless. I listened to Noah’s uneasy breaths and realized something.

  I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.

  “Do you want to kiss me?” I asked him.

  His voice sounded surprised. “What?”

  “I mean. I feel like we should . . . we probably could . . . do something. Otherwise they might know we were lying.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “You seriously wouldn’t mind that?”

  “Well. It will probably be weird, I give you that. But . . . what the hell, right?”

  He didn’t say anything for the longest of times. “All right,” he said finally. “As long as you don’t mind that it’s me.”

  “Of course not,” I said, even though part of me wished it were Gabe. Really, I needed the practice if I were ever going to do anything with Gabe. He was likely a pro, after all. And Noah, well, wasn’t. I could be myself with him, screw up all I wanted, and it wouldn’t matter.

  Quickly, I removed my glasses and put them in the pocket of my shorts. I fanned my hands out and came in contact with the scratchy vinyl of his swim trunks. He reached down and grabbed my hand, and then I tried to stand, but he stumbled forward and managed to kneel in front of me. He pulled me to the ground, so there we were, sitting cross-legged on the sawdust floor of the splintery shed, a place that smelled like gardening and pool chemicals. His hand slowly raked through my hair, to the nape of my neck, and he drew my face forward, until it softly met his warm lips. And he kissed me, just lightly.

  “Was that good?” he murmured, his voice sounding remarkably deep and . . . delicious. Despite the tiny crack of uncertainty in his voice, he had to have known it was. There was no room for argument. It was lovely. The boy was a natural.

  I nodded, dazed because it had all happened so fast, and missing my sense of sight had dulled the experience somewhat. It was almost like a dream, like a flicker of lightning, beautiful but hard to recall because now it was gone forever. “Do it again,” I murmured.

  Again, he didn’t hesitate. The little boy who hesitated about everything and anything . . . didn’t hesitate.

  This time, I felt tongue also. And the tongue was so much . . . more. More feeling. My mouth parted and he gently edged his tongue inside. The feeling was as frightening as anything, pleasant as it was, because I had no idea what I was doing or where I should put my hands or my tongue. And God, what if my teeth got in the way? I just sat there, stiff as a board. I could feel his hand on the back of my neck, massaging me there, and suddenly it occurred to me that I’d never felt Noah so in control, so comfortable. Which led me to a startling, impossible thought.

  “Was uh . . . “ I stammered. “Was that your first kiss?”

  Duh, of course it was. Noah was like me. Sheltered and afraid. He was just . . . considerate. He wanted to make people happy, in fact, he probably stayed up nights, thinking about it. He nodded. “Was it yours?”

  “Yes.”

  Then he leaned forward and kissed me again. This time, harder, hungrier. I wanted it, at first. I thought it was sweet, romantic even. He let out a low moan, and suddenly his hand left my neck, trailing down my back. It appeared between us, his fingers roaming over the front of my Speedo, massaging me through the nylon, trying to gain access. He kept kissing me, the pressure on my lips almost painful as his hand fumbled below, and I realized what he was trying to do.

  Why was he trying to do that? Then I thought about the way he’d looked at Claire’s chest. Oh.

  I remembered I still had use of my hands. I clamped mine over his and pulled it safely away. Somehow, I’d gotten lost in kissing him, and now he was on top of me. I didn’t mind it. I liked his body against mine, weird as it was. This is what Claire wanted. Mission accomplished. We’d fooled around and had the messy hair and breathlessness to show for it.

  Then I felt something hard against my thigh. I knew a little. I knew things were going in a direction that scared me. But I’d brought Noah with me to these parties simply because he didn’t scare me. He was the only one who didn’t make me feel inferior. I trusted him. So I shifted my weight to the side and slid my leg away.

  “God, I want you so bad,” he murmured, and for a second I had to wonder if I’d accidentally stumbled in here with Gabe. Gabe and his stupid lines—that sounded like one he’d use.

  He held my hand for a moment, and then started to guide it down . . . somewhere. No . . . not that. Noah’d never think to . . . My heart beat hard as he guided it down someplace so warm, between us. I felt the heat of his body, the waistband of his pants giving way, and then this warm, soft hair. His.

  “Oh God!” I shrieked, biting his tongue. I jerked my hand away. Pushed him off me. Sat up so fast, my forehead collided with his jaw.

  “Ow!” he shouted, groping around in the dark for me. “I’m sorry, Ari. Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

  I couldn’t say anything. I opened my mouth, but nothing would come out. I had a hard time believing any of that had happened. It was all a mess of half-formed thoughts and feelings, swirling in my head. Me wanting him to kiss me. Him kissing me so well that I lost track of so many things. And then . . .

  “Hey guys! Seven minutes are up!” Claire announced, and the room flooded with light.

  The first thing I looked for when my eyes adjusted, was Noah. He was standing there, arms crossed in front of him, unable to meet my eyes. He looked guilty. Claire went over to him and tried to squeeze his cheek, but he flinched away. He didn’t respond as the rest of the guys clapped him on the back. He just retreated through the crowd, head down, as if they weren’t there.

  Claire scowled at him, then looked at me and smiled sweetly. “Did he try to cop a feel and you told him no?”

  I’d never wanted to punch her so much. I smoothed down my hair and went to join the rest of the party. I went to join him, mostly, because I was too embarrassed to think of answering the inevitable barrage of questions I knew my friends would ask about my time in
“Heaven”. I wasn’t angry at Noah. It was just a misunderstanding. It was just . . . we lost control of things.

  But I couldn’t find him.

  Jacy and Mari caught me on my way up to the deck, and the inquisition began. What was it like? Was he a good kisser?— and I saw him, sitting alone in the gazebo, looking worse than I’d ever seen him. Not angry, exactly. More like lost. He stared, seemingly at nothing, as everyone danced and laughed around him. When I broke free and tried to get to him, he was gone.

  At first I didn’t worry. I thought maybe he’d gone inside. But an hour later, he still hadn’t shown up. I started to open the sliding door to check inside when Gabe came out, holding a solo cup. He, unlike the rest of the boys, went shirtless, because his chest was damn near perfect; tan and well-shaped. His shorts were slung low on his hips, relaxed like the rest of him. “Hey,” he said, holding the cup up to me. “Sex on the beach?”

  I shook like a leaf, then tittered and removed my glasses.

  “You look nice without those things,” he said, pointing at them. At least, I think he was pointing at them, but I couldn’t really see very well.

  That didn’t matter. Sight? Totally overrated.

  Gabe started talking to me about his sunglasses and how expensive they were, and somehow I found that topic of conversation fascinating. I listened like he was talking about my favorite thing ever. We ended up sitting on the deck overlooking the pool together, our knees nearly touching. He did most of the talking.

  Before I knew it, my mom was waiting outside with the Mercedes. I started to walk, weak-kneed to the car, when I realized I’d forgotten Noah.

  I searched Claire’s sprawling yard and massive home for him. Then, I approached the car. “Noah’s gone,” I said to my mom. “I’m worried about him.”

  “Hmm,” she said as I slid into the back seat. She picked up his cell phone and made a call, while I thought about the night. I thought about kissing Noah. I’d liked it. I’d felt things for him I’d never felt before. And then . . .