Saving Me

by Sadie Allen

  I felt my mask slip into place, the impassive one that held no emotion. The last thing I wanted was for her to see she had scored a hit.

  Of course I knew they had had a physical relationship—Sterling had told me—but having it thrown in my face was like a punch to the gut. I should have been prepared for it. I mean, I’d had loads of practice since my ex-best friend had screwed my boyfriend for two years. I was the master of indifference. It just wasn’t as easy because Sterling wasn’t Miles.

  In the short time we had been together, I had felt more with him and for him than in all the years I had spent as Miles’ girlfriend. I was falling fast and hard. So, yeah, I wanted to claw her eyes out.

  “You know, I really can’t remember.” Sterling’s voice and his hand rubbing up and down my back broke me from my violent contemplations. I looked up and saw him put a finger to his chin and scrunch his face up in an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression. “The only person who comes to mind is my girl. Ally is the only person I remember or want putting their hands on me.” His tone held a sarcastic edge, but eventually disintegrated into something almost lethal.

  He leaned his upper body forward and got in her face before saying loudly, “In case you haven’t figured this out, even though I’ve told you a million times …” He leaned back then looked around the room as he announced, “Maybe I should just tell you in front of everyone so that maybe it will sink into that warped mind of yours.” His eyes came back to her, filled with so much loathing when he said, “We. Are. Done. We have been for a long time, so quit with this stuff.”

  The scene had drawn every eye in the room, and people were talking in hushed tones all around us. For a minute, I wondered where Mrs. Cook was. Knowing her, she loved drama, so she often let it play out in her classes as long as curse words and violence weren’t involved.

  Raven’s face screwed up into something ugly. There was so much wrong with this girl. She was beautiful, yes, but she was damaged. It was written all over her face right now.

  “You’re going to be very sorry, Sterling Chapman,” she whispered through clenched teeth. Then her eyes darted to me. “You will be, too. You can’t keep him. You can’t have everything.” Those last words dripped with so much venom I was surprised I didn’t fall over dead. Then she stormed away.

  Sterling watched her go with an uneasy look on his face.

  “She’s going to be trouble, isn’t she?” I asked hesitantly.

  He turned back to me, the uneasiness gone. Now determination filled his features. “No. I won’t let her be.”

  I opened my mouth to ask how he planned on accomplishing that, when Elodie and Blake floated over to us.

  “That girl is so thirsty that the ocean wouldn’t be enough to fill her up,” Blake commented.

  Elodie just nodded, her gaze on someone, presumably Raven, over our shoulders.

  Mrs. Cook clapped her hands, gaining everyone’s attention, and instructed, “Now, no more drama.”

  She must not have realized how ironic her words were until we all busted up laughing. Even she couldn’t keep the chuckle from her voice when she continued, “Let’s set up for Act One, Scene One, kids.”

  We spent the rest of class and into the evening rehearsing for the musical that we had a little over a month to get ready for. Grease Lightning indeed.

  In one week, my life had changed, and it looked as if those changes were going to stick. In the past month, I had set up a routine of sorts. I was busy. I went to school, practiced lines, did homework, rehearsed for the musical, went to physical therapy once a week, and when I wasn’t doing any of those, I was with Sterling or B & E.

  Mine and Sterling’s late-night adventures continued. We spent lots of time at the pier, talking and kissing. We were inseparable. Even when we weren’t together, we were connected through text or Snapchat. I was in love, and life was just about perfect.

  I still hadn’t confessed my feelings to Sterling, and he hadn’t for me either. They were on the tip of my tongue every time we were together, but we were too new, and honestly, I was scared. I didn’t want to rock the boat or scare him away. I loved being with him and kissing him.

  Our make-out sessions had gotten heavier and hotter, but something was holding us back from taking it all the way. It wasn’t just my insecurities, but something on Sterling’s end was in the way, too. Physically, we might have been ready, but emotionally, I guessed we both needed time.

  My dad, according to my mom, was out of town for court cases. Those business trips had turned into a job out of town. It didn’t sit right with me, and I had a feeling she wasn’t exactly being honest. I wasn’t going to rock that boat either, though. Our relationship had changed, and I felt like we were building a regular mother-daughter bond, yet it was still too fragile. The ground underneath me was starting to firm, but there were still cracks that could crumble at any moment. I wasn’t going to be the earthquake that destroyed it.

  The musical was looming in the not-so-distant future. We were working non-stop to make it possible. My leg and hip were healing. I was able to do choreography and light exercise. Nothing jerky or strenuous, but I was able to move without pain, and Mrs. Cook made it to where it worked with my songs and scenes. Jamie, my physical therapist, had said I was lucky I was a quick healer.

  I had ceased to exist for Miles, Laura, and their friends. I had been excommunicated. This didn’t bother me. I was actually happier not existing on their radar. I was just plain happy. I felt like I was seventeen with my whole life ahead of me, instead of older beyond my years and ready for it all to end.

  Life was sweet … I just didn’t know it would sour so soon.

  It was Thursday, the night before our first performance, and we were running our dress rehearsal. I had everything I needed organized and my costume changes were planned and in order, the last being my black, skintight “bad girl Sandy” outfit.

  My mom had donated a portable professional makeup studio for backstage, which was just a big suitcase with a mirror and bulb lights installed into the lid, makeup trays, and retractable legs. I had complained I would have to run all the way to the band hall bathroom to do my makeup for the finale, and two days later, a large box from Amazon had showed up on our doorstep.

  Everything had gone off without a hitch so far. I was surprised. Raven, who I thought would have been a problem after all the stunts she had pulled during our early rehearsals, had just … faded over the past month. Sure, she still sneered and glared, but it was subdued. She seemed preoccupied, pale, and had lost weight.

  I asked Sterling what he thought was going on with her, since he knew her, but he had just shrugged and changed the subject. She was his ex, and he despised her. End of.

  I was backstage, dressed in skintight, shiny, black spandex leggings, a black belt around my waistline, a black Lycra off-the-shoulders top, leather jacket, and bright, candy apple red slingback heels. My hair was huge, curled and teased out like a cloud around my head, and the mic was hidden in its mass. I had lined my eyes black, painted my lips red to match my shoes, and wore gold hoops in my ears for the finishing touch.

  I shifted side to side, nervous anticipation tingling along my skin and making my insides vibrate. I shook my body, starting from my hands and up my arms, then rolled my shoulders and neck. I didn’t know why I was so nervous. We had practiced this for what felt like a million times. Nevertheless, my heart was pounding, a fluttery feeling filled my tummy, and a breathless feeling had overcome me.

  I heard my cue and, without thought, I strutted onstage like I was supposed to, hips swaying and face full of attitude.

  I actually felt it when Sterling caught sight of me, because the energy on stage changed. What was an act, a drama, had blended into the real thing. His face held genuine shock that gave way to an inferno. His eyes devoured me from the tips of my red toes up my legs. And as I slung the leather jacket away from me, they moved to my upper body and finally to my face and hair. His stare was like a physical caress th
at I felt … everywhere.

  Sterling bit his lip, and his hands fisted at his sides. For a moment, I worried he wouldn’t be able to perform and was preparing to throw me over his shoulder and haul me away. Finally, he delivered his line, and I returned with mine—breathlessly and shaky, I might add—and then it was the scene with Erin/Patty.

  I was so distracted I almost hit her in the face for real. I tried to give her an apologetic look, but I couldn’t keep my eyes from Sterling for very long. I was like a moth to a flame, instinctively drawn to his heat.

  We finished out the scene, and then the music started to play. His eyes were so intense and focused on me. It felt like we were the only people in the room as he sang the opening lyrics and prowled toward me. When he came in close, the air between us grew thick, and my heart started beating double time in excitement. I stuck my hip out and bounced in time with the music as I rolled my shoulders just like I had practiced, but it felt different this time, like we were playing a seductive game of cat and mouse.

  He threw his letterman sweater, never taking his eyes from mine, and skimmed his hand down my side. The feel of his fingers burned me through the material of my clothes, and I shivered at how close he was to some places that were probably not appropriate to explore on stage.

  Feeling like a predator, I moved around him, grazing my fingertips across his chest. I watched his eyes close and his body shudder at my touch, and smiled. He was just as affected by me as I was him.

  We sang and danced, our bodies brushing, touches lingering. I was flushed and out of breath, wanting nothing more than to be alone with him and not in front of our classmates and teacher. Sterling was building a fire within me, and I was scared it was going to burn me alive on the spot.

  The song came to a close, and we struck our final pose—me tucked into Sterling’s side, his arm around my back, and the other behind the knee of the leg I had hiked up to his hip. Then he leaned in close, breath hot on the shell of my ear, his lips brushing my skin, and whispered, “Later.”

  That caused a full body shiver. It took everything I had in me not to turn my face to his and stick my tongue into his mouth.

  I finished the dress rehearsal in a daze, listening with half an ear as Mrs. Cook called out instructions and suggestions. My mind was firmly planted on thoughts of Sterling and our plans after we were done tonight.

  We watched each other, an awareness flowing back and forth between us like a current. I knew, and he knew, that tonight was going to be the night.

  Sterling pulled into the parking lot of our pier at Westbank Park. It was fitting since it was the first place he had taken me that night over a month ago. The moon was full, illuminating everything around us in an almost preternatural glow. The weather had changed from the chilliness of late February to the muggy warmth of early April. Everything that had been brown and dead back then had awakened to the living verdant green of spring.

  “Are you sure?” Sterling spoke into the quiet stillness of the cab.

  I nodded. I was sure. Everything inside me had shifted tonight. I loved Sterling. I loved him so much that it made my chest ache. I wanted him to be my first, my only. I wanted forever with him, and I wanted to start it today.

  I knew I was young, and a small voice whispered that maybe I wasn’t ready, but I needed to be close to him. I wanted to make him happy because: how long would he be satisfied with make-out sessions?

  It occurred to me tonight that a guy like him, a guy whose every movement screamed sex, wouldn’t be mine for long if I didn’t meet that need in him. And I wanted to keep him. I didn’t want what we had to turn into what I’d had with Miles. Because it could.

  Sterling had already been with someone. Had shared that experience with her. I couldn’t stand the thought of her having something with him that I didn’t.

  I felt his fingers brush my temple as he tucked a stray curl behind my ear. “We can wait, princess. I’m okay with what we have. I could kiss those pretty lips of yours forever.” I could hear the hint of a smile in his tone.

  I knew he meant that right now, but what about a month from now? Six months? A year? Would my lips be enough? Was I enough?

  I turned, and my breath caught at the sight of him, like always. Would I ever get used to his beauty?

  Sterling’s features looked as if an artist had chiseled them—smooth skin, high cheekbones, a square jawline, and a full mouth. His hair was wet and messy, and his blue/brown eyes were searching, questioning. He had changed out of his Danny clothes and was in just a tee and jeans. He was easily the most beautiful boy inside and out that I had ever known, and I couldn’t imagine him looking any better than he did in this moment.

  Funny, how that worked. I knew I would remember everything about this night for the rest of my life, committing it all to memory.

  “I love you,” I whispered hoarsely, emotions building inside me to the point I thought I would burst with them. I stared into those ocean blue eyes with islands of brown and confessed, “I love you so much that I can’t stand the thought of not sharing everything I am with you. I need this, and I need you. Only you.”

  Sterling reached out and dragged me to him, crushing me against his chest. Then he pressed his lips to mine for a hard kiss before he pulled back and rested his forehead to mine. “I love you, too, princess … so much,” he breathed, sounding winded, but he went on in a voice laced with wonder. “You amaze me every day, and you don’t even realize it.”

  His words healed something inside me, something I hadn’t even realized could ever be healed—the brokenness so a part of me that it had ingrained itself into my DNA.

  I let my hands dive into his hair, gripping the soft strands as I dragged his face back to mine, pressing my lips to his and trying to convey without words everything I felt for him.

  He met my lips with equal fervor and, for a moment, let me control the kiss. Then he cupped my jaw almost violently as he dug his fingers into the skin there, not enough to hurt, but it got my attention.

  He lashed his tongue against the seam of my lips, seeking entrance, and I immediately opened, welcoming his taste. The kiss was wet, hot, and so full of passion and longing that I almost felt like crying.

  He drew away an inch from my mouth and panted out, “Let’s go to the pier.”

  I had no words. All I could do was nod and follow his lead.

  The breeze off the water felt good against my heated skin as Sterling and I lay tangled on a quilt at the end of the secluded pier. My head rested against his muscular chest as I listened to the sound of his racing heart. He trailed his fingers softly up and down my spine in a lazy rhythm.

  “I love you,” he murmured, his lips moving against my hair.

  “I love you, too,” I rasped then kissed the skin above his nipple.

  “You okay?” His voice was quiet and held a note of concern.

  I smiled against his skin and nodded.

  “Good.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

  We lay there, listening to the sounds of the water as it lapped the pier, the serenading cicadas, and amphibian mating croaks. I committed it all to memory. I never wanted to forget this, not a single moment.

  “Best night of my life,” Sterling said so quietly I wasn’t sure I heard him.

  I lifted my head and looked down into his relaxed face. “What?”

  He raised his head, eyes burning into mine. “Best. Night. Of. My. Life.” Then he fell back to the wood with a thunk, like the movement was too much in his exhausted state.

  My cheeks flushed, and I tucked my head back down to his chest, which now rumbled with laughter.

  “I can’t believe I lost my virginity with bad girl Sandy hair,” I muttered.

  “I like it,” he said with a chuckle, his fingers sifting through it. “It’s so fluffy.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and tried my hardest to contain my giggle, but I couldn’t. My shoulders shook, and I lifted a hand to cover my mouth.

  “It’s awful,�
� I choked.

  He continued to pet my hair as he argued, “Nah, it’s beautiful because it’s a part of you.”

  My breath caught, and I instantly sobered. Would his words ever stop taking me by surprise? He meant that. I could hear it in his tone.

  My vision blurred, and a peacefulness I hadn’t known existed calmed the constant storm that raged inside me. I snuggled closer into his side and rubbed my foot against the hairy surface of his leg, holding my tears at bay.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” he whispered into my hair.

  We had opened Friday night to a packed house. I thought I would have been nervous since I hadn’t performed in anything other than Christmas pageants in elementary school and we had thrown this musical together in little over a month. Strangely, I hadn’t been. I had been excited. The buzz of the crowd, the music, the hot stage lighting—they had fed the energy surging throughout my body.

  I hadn’t felt this kind of confidence since … well … ever. When I had performed on the track, it had been different. Yes, there had been adrenaline, but there had always been a sense of expectation. No excitement. I had been confident in my ability, but never to the point of pride, because it wasn’t something I had really cared about. Also, my father had always been right there, ready to tell me what I had done wrong. If I ever went back, would I feel that confidence again? I doubted it. I dreaded the thought of running again.

  Working with Sterling was as easy as breathing. We played off one another seamlessly, the energy and tension making the atmosphere pulse with electricity. It didn’t help that we could hardly take our eyes from one another or keep our hands off each other. Even Blake and Elodie had commented last night after our first performance on the changes in our body languages.

  “Y’all did it, didn’t you?” he had asked point blank.