Saving Me

by Sadie Allen

  Warm skin closed over my hand, and I looked up to where Sterling had one of my hands clasped tightly in his own.

  “We’re going to change that. I want you to have a life. I want you to have every teenage experience we’re supposed to have. Even if it’s just little things. Sometimes, those are the best things of all.”

  I stared at the way Sterling’s large hand surrounded my smaller one, feeling the warmth of his skin, the tingle of electricity that seemed to travel from where our skin touched all the way to my heart. I had to agree. Sometimes, it was the little things that were the best of all.

  We managed to work through our lines for over an hour before I had to get home, questions bombarding me the entire time I sat at the table with Sterling.

  We were on our way to the door, going through their small living room, when a picture on top of the entertainment center caught my attention. I paused, my eyes snared by the beauty in that picture. It was an eight-by-ten of a beautiful young girl with shiny dark hair and a wide, open-mouthed smile. Her face was in profile, and in her arms was a chubby little baby sporting his own wide gummy smile.

  “That’s me and my ma,” Sterling said from behind me, his body heat warming my back as it brushed against me.

  I looked over my shoulder at him to see him staring at the photo. “Where is she?” I asked quietly. I didn’t know why. Pops was in the garage, and Jack hadn’t emerged from his room, not once.

  My heart was beating a heavy, sluggish beat, and cold crept into my fingertips. I didn’t have a good feeling about what his answer would be.

  “Don’t know,” he replied softly, his attention now focused on the bare skin of my shoulder. Then those lush eyes of his lifted and bored into mine.

  My breath caught, and my heart started beating double time. There was a wealth of emotion in his eyes, and I knew, even if I lived to be a hundred, I would never reach the bottom of those depths.

  “How can you not know?” The question wasn’t accusatory; it was searching. I wanted to know him, everything that made him who he was, and that included his family.

  Why was Pops raising him? The pictures that lined the walls and furniture were a testament to him living in this house since he was young.

  He slowly lifted a hand and, with just the tip of one finger, he lightly stroked the skin of my shoulder. I shivered, feeling my body flush with heat.

  “She split. I was fourteen months old when she dumped me with Pops and took off. She’s only come back once, and that was when I was three. She dropped Jack off and was gone again.”

  “But, wh—”

  “She’s a junkie, princess.” He said this like it wasn’t a big deal, just a fact.

  I sucked in a breath. How could he be so cavalier about that? And why would she do that? I just couldn’t understand. My heart bled for him and Jack at the thought of having a mother who wasn’t a part of their lives.

  “What about your dad?” I asked, my stomach roiling. At the same time, I was tingling all over from his finger burning a path from the base of my neck to the edge of my shoulder and back up again. On the trip back, he dipped over and traced the ridge of my collarbone. Goose bumps prickled my skin. I didn’t know how to feel. These conflicting emotions were strange and warred against each other.

  He shifted closer. “Never knew my dad,” he breathed against my hair, then brushed his lips through my hair and trailed down my neck.

  I closed my eyes and felt my body shift back into his. The script I had been holding dropped from my hand as my backside nestled against his front and my shoulder blades planted against his torso.

  He brought his other hand up and tucked my hair behind my ear, then smoothed it down and pulled the mass from my neck and over to the other shoulder. He trailed his large, warm hand down my side and lower until he gripped my hip. He was burning me up from the outside in.

  “I love this sweater,” he hummed against my skin.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. No one and nothing had ever made me feel this way.

  I spun around so fast that Sterling didn’t have time to brace himself. I winced at the pain that surged up my leg, but ignored it to fling my arms around his neck and plaster my chest to his, making him stumble back a step. If he wasn’t so tall and strong, I probably would have knocked him to the ground.

  I pulled down on his neck as I lifted onto my tippy-toes and smashed my mouth to his.

  Once the shock of my attack cleared, he banded his arms tightly around my waist and probed at the seam of my lips with his tongue, seeking entrance. I opened, giving him access, and whimpered. He groaned when my tongue touched his and we began dueling.

  His taste was addictive, and the feel of his lips and tongue became my new obsession. I had never felt so much in my life. It was warmth, electricity, happiness, lips and tongues, my heart’s erratic beat … The emotions swirling inside me were filling me to the brim and would burst out of me.

  I didn’t know how long we stood in his living room, making out, but the fog lifted when I felt a presence at our sides, followed by a throat clearing. We jerked apart so fast I would have stumbled if not for Sterling grabbing my forearms.

  “Baby cribs, Sterling,” Pops stated.

  I wanted to sink right through the floor and disappear. My face must have been the color of a tomato—it felt that way—and I couldn’t look at Pops. He had just caught me going at it with his grandson right in the middle of his living room.

  “Jeez, Pops, I get it,” Sterling snapped.

  “Now, you better get home, Ally. It’s a school night,” Pops advised before he moved from the room. “It was nice meeting you, by the way,” he called from somewhere down the hall.

  I looked to Sterling, seeing his face was a little pale, but then he just shook his head.

  I didn’t reply. My mouth wouldn’t even work. My lips felt swollen and tingly, and I had probably swallowed my tongue sometime during the last five minutes.

  Sterling reached down and retrieved my script book from where it had fallen on the floor. Then he slid one hand to the small of my back and guided me to the door.

  Once we were outside, the cool air cleared some of the remaining fog, and I muttered, “That was embarrassing.”

  Sterling’s eyes crinkled, and he chuckled.

  I shook my head, but smiled because, even though we had gotten caught, I didn’t regret the kiss. It had been amazing; the best one I had ever had. I had only ever kissed Miles, but those kisses had been tame. Nothing like the fire that had burned between Sterling and me.

  “How do you sneak out so much with him around?”

  His grin turned into a cocky smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  Uh, yeah.

  “For real, how do you? He doesn’t strike me as someone who lets things get past him.”

  “He’s not, but Pops is one of those men who, when he sleeps, he sleeps. The man has about five alarm clocks to get him up in the morning.”

  “Oh,” I muttered, a little disappointed. I had imagined Sterling having his ninja skills honed to perfection.

  We stood and stared at each other on the stoop in front of his door, the outside light casting shadows over his face and making it look almost sinister. Eventually, he leaned forward, and I watched as his face descended toward mine. My heart began pounding so loud I could hear and feel it in my ears.

  When he was an inch from my lips, he whispered against them, “See you tomorrow.”

  His eyes were so close that they were all I could see. An ocean of blue with islands of amber. I fell into his multicolored eyes and never wanted to leave.

  Sterling obliterated the remaining space between our lips for just a moment, then pulled back.

  “Man, you’re cute,” he breathed, and his breath on my skin sent familiar tingles skittering over me. I knew I should leave, but I didn’t want to.

  I gave him a close-lipped smile.

  “You need help walking to your car? It’s dark out.”

  I sh
ook my head, and then, before I could change my mind, I got up on my tiptoes again and quickly kissed his cheek. “Thank you for tonight,” I told him, trying to imbue meaning into the words.

  I meant that in so many ways. I was thanking him for sharing his family with me, for feeding me, for practicing with me when he obviously didn’t need to, and for igniting something inside me that I thought I didn’t have. I didn’t know I could feel excitement like that. Miles had never gotten anywhere close. I was so grateful after considering myself broken since I could never drum up a physical response toward Miles.

  Sterling was opening my mind and my heart to new experiences.

  “You’re welcome, princess. Maybe I’ll be at your window tomorrow night. Can’t tonight. Pops has a date with his woman.”

  “His woman?” I asked in astonishment.

  “Yeah, he has a lady friend in town that he sees, and I have to stay in with Jack. Plus, I never know when he’ll get home.”

  I mouthed the word “wow,” and Sterling smirked.

  “Apparently, the old man is a hot commodity.”

  I giggled. I was sure he was. Pops didn’t look like anyone’s grandpa, and he was in good shape.

  “I better go.”

  “Yeah,” he replied, a small smile still clinging to his lips.

  I backed up slowly then turned and walked to my car, eyes to my feet to make sure I didn’t trip over anything. My hand was on the door handle when I turned to look back at the Chapman’s house. Sterling hadn’t moved. He still stood on the stoop, hands jammed in his pockets, his eyes on me.

  I gave a little wave, and he lifted his chin in return. Then I was in my car and on my way home. The clock on the dash said it was nine thirty, and I sincerely hoped my dad wasn’t still home. I didn’t know where he was right now, but I hoped it wasn’t there and that, wherever he was, he wasn’t stewing over the way I had left this evening.

  When I had gotten home Wednesday night, Derek Everly’s car hadn’t been in the driveway, and he hadn’t been waiting for me inside the house. Nor had there been a missed call or text. I had gone to bed for the first time with a smile on my face, reliving every moment of the kiss I had shared with Sterling until I fell into a peaceful sleep.

  It was now Friday. Thursday had gone by without incident. Sterling had waited for me by the light pole and had walked me into school. I had sat with him, Blake, and Elodie at lunch, and we had discussed ways to get Elodie over her shyness. Blake was all for the karaoke idea, but we had to find a place that featured it. Then we needed a plan to get inside since most karaoke places were bars. Practice had been better, mainly because Raven had been absent. No one knew where she had been. Elodie seemed to have relaxed more and had done well on the speaking parts we had practiced.

  We had to postpone our shopping trip since Blake had to fill in for the receptionist at his sister’s hair salon last minute. Friday just ended up being a better day for everyone all around.

  Since I couldn’t do a lot of walking, we planned for Blake and Elodie to come over to my house and do some online shopping. Sterling had grumbled when Blake had told him in no uncertain terms that it was a “Blake and his bishes’ date.”

  Sterling had explained that Jack had had a bad night last night, so he needed to stay in. My heart melted, and my hurt at being stood up morphed into understanding. I wondered, though, what a bad night for Jack meant. Was it a medical or emotional problem? I didn’t know, and I hadn’t felt comfortable asking Sterling about it at the time. He was tired. The purple smudges under his eyes and his constant yawning told me that he probably wouldn’t be at my window tonight either. That was okay; he needed his rest.

  “Okay, class, today we’re going to run through ‘It’s Raining On Prom Night,’ and that’s”—she looked down to the paper in front of her—“Ally and Raven’s duet. Then we’ll block out the third scene.”

  “Duet?” I asked in a strangled voice. I must have heard her wrong.

  “Yes, I’m the girl on the radio,” Raven sneered.

  Great. Just freaking great.

  “Now, ladies,” Mrs. Cook barked.

  I slowly got up and made my way up the rest of the steps on one side while Raven did the same on the other. I could feel her spiteful gaze burning holes in the side of my face, but I refused to give her the attention she was craving.

  I had the same feeling churning in my stomach that I had before a race—nerves, adrenaline, and determination. My competitive side was rearing its ugly head, ready to take on the girl who wanted Sterling.

  Mrs. Cook ascended the steps, clipboard in hand, and pointed to the front of the stage on Raven’s side. “Now, Raven, you stand downstage right. We’re going to have a standing mic set up here.” She strode to the place she was discussing and tapped her pointed toe to the spot she wanted the mic.

  Once Raven was where she had instructed, Mrs. Cook beelined toward me, grabbed me by the shoulders, and started moving me. “Ally, you’re going to be perched on a bed we’ll have set up … here.” She placed me at a point marked by a beige masking tape X. She then let go of my shoulders and hugged the clipboard to her chest.

  I heard a snort, and my eyes zeroed in on Raven, who muttered, “Like she’d know what to do on a bed.”

  My spine shot straight, and I narrowed my eyes at her. She evidently hadn’t learned her lesson this week. I changed my expression to one of boredom and deadpanned, “Ouch. You really got me there.”

  At the cackle of laughter, both mine and Raven’s eyes shot to the sound. Blake was sitting in his chair, facing the stage, trying to restrain his laughter.

  “Shut up, fairy,” she hissed.

  “Raven!” Mrs. Cook snapped.

  “You calling me gay? I’m straighter than the pole yo mama dances on,” Blake quipped.

  “Children!”

  Everyone’s eyes went to Mrs. Cook, whose face was red, and her arms were straight down by her sides, fists clenched so tight the paper on her clipboard was wrinkling.

  “No more. We have too much to do to be striking out at one another,” she fumed in a quavering voice. She then focused her eyes on Raven and stated in a tone that brooked no argument, “You do not talk like that in this room ever again. Are we understood?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Cook,” she answered, her face red and sullen.

  As always, my eyes searched out Sterling, who was sitting behind Blake. His posture was one of forced relaxation, leaning back with his hands tucked behind his head, elbows wide, and his ankle crossed over his knee. You would think he was just chilling, but I could see the strain on his face and the tenseness in his body. When his eyes met mine, they were riled. Despite that, he gave me a wink and a smile.

  My body lost its own stiffness, and I smiled back.

  I heard a weird noise and peeked over at where Raven was standing on the other side of the stage. Her face was twisted as she stared back and forth between Sterling and me. Finally, her eyes settled on mine, and the rage emanating from them made my skin crawl.

  “Okay, ladies, let’s get the music going and see what we have.”

  At Mrs. Cook’s announcement, I saw the cruel smirk that tipped up one side of Raven’s lips. This wasn’t going to be some simple duet. This was a challenge. She wanted to out-stage me. I knew it like I knew she was a hateful skank.

  As the opening piano chords filled the room, Raven’s sultry voice rang out. I had to give it to her. She could sing.

  When the time came for me to cut in, I didn’t sound like the heartbroken girl I was supposed to. I let my voice fly.

  Her eyes flashed, and she upped her volume, trying to drown my voice out. I saw her volume, and raised her in power and attitude. Soon, it became a head shaking, back and forth duel of sound. I practically shouted the speaking part. What we didn’t know was, our audience was ensnared in the performance, our voices blended and flowed together in perfect harmony.

  The song came to an end with us belting out the last words in perfect loud accordance
.

  The room was silent, and I cast my gaze around to see most of my classmates seated with their faces slack in shock or their mouths hanging open, except Sterling. He had a smug smile fixed to his lips, and when he saw that I was staring at him, he pursed his lips and gave me a nod. My eyes then went to Mrs. Cook, who for once wasn’t instructing us after a performance. Instead, she just stood there stiffly, her eyes the size of saucers.

  I peered over at Raven, who looked just as confused as me.

  I cleared my throat and was about to ask what was going on when everyone broke out into applause.

  Blake jumped up and cried, “That was like watching Barbara Streisand and Donna Summer duke it out in ‘No More Tears.’”

  I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew I would have to YouTube it later.

  Elodie, who was across from Blake, rolled her eyes, but said, “That was epic.”

  The surrounding students nodded their agreement.

  I felt a blush steal over my cheeks and tried to swallow the lump in my throat at their praise.

  Mrs. Cook became unstuck and declared, “You must perform it that way during the show!”

  Oh boy. I was going to have to buy some throat lozenges. Mine felt scratchy after projecting so much.

  I walked off the stage and sat in front of Blake, but then leaned back toward him and asked out of the side of my mouth, “Barbara who?”

  Blake, who had been leaning forward, shot back in his chair and gasped, “What! I was sure you would’ve known the Streisand-Summer duet. You like classics.”

  “How do you figure?” I twisted in my seat to look at him.

  “You knew who the Duckman was. Trust me, no one around here got it when I wore those shoes and that hat.”

  “I just like old movies. Music? Not so much, but I’m learning. Sterling introduced me to Don McLean.”

  Blake rolled his eyes. “Of course. Pops has him brainwashed with seventies rock music. I swear you need a proper diva education.”