“Ok, yeah, because we didn’t just talk about boundaries.” I chuckle while shaking my head.
“Hello? Some dudes like to sleep naked…. or so I’ve heard.” She scrunches her face. “If you’re one of them, don’t even think about it. I don’t want your bits on me.”
“My bits?” I ask, raising my brows at her. “There’s nothing bitsy about my bits, ok? Don’t make me show you.”
“Ugh, gross! You nasty ass!”
I laugh out loud. Man, I miss this shit.
I walk towards the bed, keeping my shirt and sweatpants on me. I’m not telling her I sleep in my boxers because I don’t need her freaking out about “my bits.”
As I sit on the edge, I sense her eyes on me, and then she moves and turns away. I fight the disappointment, a stupid notion because we’re not here to cuddle. This sleepover is therapy.
I lay next to her while her back is towards me—forming a wall between us. I don’t bury beneath the covers because it’s going to be sweltering hot in these clothes and the extra body heat.
“Well, uh, goodnight,” I said as I place my hands underneath my head and stare at the ceiling. I try to ignore her scents of cinnamon and coconuts, which I find deliciously intoxicating. I sigh as I prepare for a long night.
“G’night,” she mumbles. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For keeping me company.”
I smile. A few minutes later, I hear her deep breathing, a sign that she’s asleep. Within seconds, my drowsiness comes, and my eyes close for the night.
***
I’m jolted awake by something that flopped on my chest. When I reach for it, a soft hand mingles with my calloused one. I wake up in surprise until I remember that I have a bedmate. Jo removes her palm, and I turn to her. She’s lying on her back with her eyes closed, but I can hear her whimper, and it creases her forehead. On top of that, beads of sweat are trickling down her cheeks and her arms are flailing. She’s having her night terrors, forcing me to return to my childhood memories and revisit what I did then to soothe her. I exhale as I prepare for my next step and scoot closer to her. Turning to the side, I place my head on the crook of her neck, and let it nestle against her hair. I put my arm across her waist and drape my leg over her thighs, cocooning her with my body. Her arms fall to the mattress, one hand landing on mine. Soon, she’s breathing hard, signaling her transition to deep sleep. Her face relaxes until it’s replaced by a peaceful countenance. I breathe a sigh of relief. “Sleep well, buddy.”
Soon, the warmth and softness of her body, plus the rhythmic undulations of her chest, rocks me to sleep. In no time, we’re both knocked out in a restful slumber.
Chapter 35
Josephine
The sound of my alarm wakes me at 4 am, and I turn off my phone. I sigh. I don’t want to get up because I just had the most restful sleep in days. I just want to lie right here in bed snuggling with Julian.
Julian.
I gasp. Holy crap! I’m snuggling with Julian!
My memory comes crashing down on me as I remember I snuck in his room last night, and I’m now in bed with him.
I can hear my heart beating as I assess my current situation. Julian’s face is, literally, on my neck, his lips positioned close to my vein like a vampire about to drink blood. He had draped his tanned arm across my waist and sprawled his leg over my lower body. Ok, this scenario may be scandalous to those who don’t know our history. But we usually end up in this cuddling position in the mornings when we were kids. I pause. I must have had an episode which prompted him to wrap himself around me. True to his promise, he “did me a solid.” That was the best sleep ever—dreamless and restful. I feel so energized.
I look at Julian with his chest on my arm and sinewy muscles against my body, and my pulse quickens. I furrow my brows. Am I aroused? This can’t be good. And yet, Julian smells delicious, like his usual scent but also mixed with something else. What is that? Something very male, and it’s making me feel flushed.
And…. uh oh. I feel something else on my leg. Something very long and hard. My face burns. Ok, I’m a virgin, but you don’t need to touch fire to know that it burns. I know enough about what’s going on down there. Let’s just say, it’s the morning, and it’s happy to be alive.
Okedoke. Let’s just untangle out of this compromising position and mosey on out of here. But if this man-boy could have only weighed a 100 pounds lighter, though. Jesus Christ, this guy’s heavy, and a super heavy sleeper. This guy is dead weight and practically immovable. Not even Mohammed can move this mountain.
I exhale and gather my strength. Then, channeling my inner body builder, I push his arm and leg away with just the right balance of force and gentleness so as not to wake him. I’m not really looking forward to an awkward early morning encounter. I just want to sneak out of here with the same ninja-like stealth I had when I was a kid.
After a few minutes of maneuvering myself out of his hold, I’m finally free, and I watch him fall onto the bed, face forward with a thud. He still doesn’t wake up!
I look at my watch, and I wince. I have to get a move on before Mrs. Taylor wakes up and sees me. He and I are toast if that happens. When I open his door, I pop my head out to see if the hallway is clear. It is, and I don’t waste any time getting out of there. It doesn’t take me long before I reach the front door, and I’m out of the house, leaving me to deal with my walk of shame from Julian’s front porch to mine.
As soon as I’m inside, I run to my room before anyone suspects that I’m missing. I beeline to my bed and hop on the mattress. What a strange turn of events. I, literally, slept with Julian last night.
Suddenly, a static sound from my radio alarm distracts me, making me turn my head. When the noise stops, it’s replaced by a heavy metal song that I don’t recognize. When it’s finished, the DJ announces the song as music by a band called Stone Sour and it’s entitled, “Orchids.” I furrow my brows. That’s weird, but I’m not given any time to contemplate because my aunt barges into my room.
“How are you, sweetie?” She bounds onto my bed with her usual energy. “I heard nothing more after your nightmare, so I’m assuming you had a good sleep.”
I blush after I recall what I had to do to get that “good sleep.” She doesn’t notice my face because she’s busy talking to me about her plans.
“So listen, next Sunday I have to go home for a bit and get some things. You want to come with me for the ride?”
My eyes light up at the thought of visiting San Francisco. I wouldn’t mind strolling Fisherman’s Wharf, driving through the Golden Gate Bridge and eating a bowl of clam chowder or two. I’m practically drooling as I think of it. “I’d love to. I’m super excited.”
She smiles and places a warm hand on my face. “I’m gonna miss seeing you every day, kiddo.”
My smile falters as reality sinks in that my parents’ homecoming is drawing near. “I’m sick of living here, Aunty. College can’t come soon enough.”
I don’t tell her about my plan of leaving when I turn eighteen next month. I can’t risk it.
She leans down and hugs me tightly. “I know, babe,” she says. “Just a few more months, though. Hang in there.”
I hang on to her, but I let her go before tears start forming. She also releases me and gets up from the bed. “Ok, I’ll let you get some more sleep. I believe you have about an hour and a half before you get ready for school.”
“Thanks, aunty.” Burying myself underneath my comforter, I prepare for a quick nap, but my aunt stops with a look of surprise.
“I didn’t know you like Glenn Miller.”
I lower my brows. “Who’s that?”
She giggles. “The song playing on your radio, silly.”
I turn to my dresser and listen to the music wafting through the room. Sure enough, big band music plays from my alarm’s speaker.
“Anyway, the name of this song is Blue Orchid. Doesn’t it sound lovely?”
My ey
es widen when I recall the title of the heavy metal song just minutes ago. Mistaking my bewildered face for mockery at her random knowledge of old music, she laughs. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t only listen to one genre. I have varied taste.”
After a friendly exchange, she leaves me alone, but I’m left to wonder what’s in store for me today.
***
“Hey, your mouth is hanging open. Snap out of it, girl!”
Dee’s voice startles me, pulling me out of my reverie. I blink as I remember that I’m in my English class. I rub my neck. My mind has been playing moments with Julian over and over in my head.
“And why does Ian keep staring at you?”
I snap up and look in Julian’s direction. He’s not. I look back at Dee and scowl.
“Well, I didn’t say now. But he was,” she said. “What’s going on? Dish, girlfriend!”
“I’ll tell you later.” I lie. There’s no way I’m telling her we shared a bed last night, or that I woke up cuddling with him. Yeah, this girl will not keep that secret.
“You promise?”
“Sure.”
“Hey, what are you drawing?”
I turn to Dee, head tilted to the side. “What do you mean?”
She points to my notebook, and to my surprise, I see a crude drawing on the corner of my paper. I don’t remember drawing it, but I must’ve sketched it absentmindedly while I was daydreaming. The drawing looks familiar, but I can’t place it right now. Unfortunately, I’m no artist, so this chicken scratch is not helping me determine what I doodled on my notebook.
“Are you planning on getting a tattoo of that flower?”
I quickly return my attention to my drawing. Yes, of course! I see it now—the petals, the sepals and the stem. It’s an interesting shape and unfortunately, I don’t know enough about flowers to identify it. But where have I seen this before?
“Whatever you do,” said Dee. “Please don’t get a tramp stamp.”
I tease. “Girl, it’s on my lower back already. Right above my thong line.”
“This heifer…” she responds.
“Ms. Ligaya.” Mr. Cunningham’s voice interrupts our banter, jolting me upright in my seat. He is now facing me and Dee, eyes narrowing at us. “Maybe you want to take over the lecture since you seem to conduct your own with Ms. Bailey.”
My face and the rest of my body heat with embarrassment. “Sorry, Mr. Cunningham,” I say softly, avoiding his gaze.
“I expect no more interruptions from the both of you, understand?”
“Yes, Mr. Cunningham,” we say in unison.
He turns around and continues.
“Simon says, ‘look up,’” whispers Dee.
Automatically, I follow her command and stare at Julian who is staring at me back. I heat, and I know I’m turning tomato red. Dammit. She tricked me!
I scowl at Dee, who is covering her giggles with her mouth. Then, I return my attention to Julian who is still gazing at me. I stick my tongue out at him, and he chuckles.
“Ok, we’re definitely gonna have a talk after,” whispers Dee. “I totally saw that.”
***
“Dee, you never told me the store is located here.”
It’s 3 pm, and I’m standing with Dee facing the shack. Today is my first day of work.
“Right?” She beams, missing my look of horror. “Girl, you’re gonna love it.”
I bite my lip. The tiny snack shop faces the pool, which means an unobstructed view of the swim team as they practice. That’s not the problem. To be honest, watching athletes in speedos sounds like a good use of an afternoon. But when the captain of said team is Julian Taylor, I will have to rethink.
Dee doesn’t detect my apprehension and pushes me to the door. She ushers me inside the dark, cramped space and begins the job orientation. But words ricochet off my ears as my eyes dart towards the clock every five minutes. Practice starts in an hour, and I’m not sure what’s making me sweat more: the shack or the fact that the swimmers are coming.
After last night’s scandalous sleepover, I’ve been avoiding Julian. Though nothing happened between us, it was still inappropriate, and it could complicate situations. He has a girlfriend, for Pete’s sakes!
And yet, it was the most peaceful night I had in years.
I sigh as I couldn’t deny the fact that being with Julian made me less lonely and gave me a sense of normalcy. Before this happened, I resorted to keeping a ghost for company. How sad is that? Chatting with him in his room, surrounded by our childhood memories, helped me remember why we became best friends in the first place. We had fun.
But our lives have changed and become complicated. I simply can’t remain naïve that one night of innocent companionship erases the reason I stayed away from him for three years. No, this pseudo-friendship shall not continue.
“So happy you took the position. Girl, we need all the help. I had to cover most of the shifts since Nina quit.”
Dee sits on the stool and toys with her hoop earring. “Plus, the money goes towards athletes who can’t afford the cost of being in sports teams. You know, uniforms, trips and shit. This tiny little stand makes a lot of impact. So, thanks for joining us, Queen. Shall we get started?”
I sigh and drag my feet as the training begins. But the next hour proved bearable. The job is brainless but fun with Dee, and it diverts me from the emotions broiling inside my brain.
“Girl, you’re doing great.”
As I place the last box of protein bars on the shelf, I smile. “This isn’t so bad. Thanks for hiring me.”
She dismisses me with a wave. “Ok, so what’s up with you and Ian today?”
I bite my lip. I had hoped she had forgotten that incident in the classroom because I don’t know how to explain that exchange. “Uh…”
“Ooh, table that for now.” Dee interrupts me as something distracts her and makes her turn to the Olympic-sized pool. “Mama, it’s about to get better. Check out 12 o’clock.”
“What?” I scratch my head, confused. But the minute I see the person of interest, I groan. Julian is getting out of the water. My brain tells me to run, but I’m also the sick puppy who can’t turn away. And so I watch the athlete lift off the surface, rewarding Dee and I with a view of his long torso. His sinewy legs come next and in a matter of seconds, he’s standing at the edge of the pool—all 6’2 of prime meat, dripping and panting.
Mouth hanging open, I take every inch of him. The last time I saw him half-naked was in summer camp at Lake Barrow when his scrawny body was in swim shorts. But grown up Julian is lethal. Based on the way his clothing clung to him, I assumed that the bod underneath those layers would be impressive. My assumption pales to the spectacular display of tanned physique before me. The broad shoulders, the chiseled abs, those powerful, sleek thighs and the sculpted biceps are marks of a superior swimmer and indications of his athletic prowess. Years of dedicated training have done him well.
Julian reaches for his towel and wipes himself. By this time, my body is on fire but I can’t turn away, so like a voyeur, I watch his hands slide from his pecs, to the ripples on his stomach and down to the edge of his Speedo, directing my gaze to the scandalous spot I should avoid. But then he puts on his black joggers, officially ending the show.
Dee lets out a disappointed sigh while I take a seat on the stool, breathless and exhausted.
The Night Orchid Page 20
