“I’ll talk to her.” He looks down and then back up to me. “You want to kick the ball around with me?” He props his foot on top of a red-and-blue soccer ball lying on the floor beside my desk chair.
“Only if you promise not to start wheezing again.” My taunt prompts him to slip his toes under the ball and bounce it up into the air. Using the inside of his left foot he gives it a small kick and looks at me with challenge on his face.
I jump off the bed and steal the ball away, kicking it from my room. “Let’s go, old man.”
“Are you going to stop ignoring your mother?” he calls after me. Still doing his dad/husband duty, I guess.
“Yes,” I respond, even though I still think my mother deserves to be in the doghouse.
Ember doesn’t seem to mind my mother’s behavior. She’s more concerned about people at school finding out we’re together. I don’t give a shit what people think about us, but Ember does. That surprised me, because I thought Ember lived in a special land where people at our school didn’t exist. She doesn’t seem to care about anybody there, and she never participates in anything. When I asked her yesterday, she explained that she has made it this far by being drama free, and she’d like it to stay that way.
I get it. But I have a small plan that will let me kiss her at least once during the school day. If she won’t let me openly show affection to her at school, I’ll just have to sneak it.
My idea is unoriginal, but it’s all I have. I never see Ember at school. We don’t have the same lunch hour, no classes together, and she’s not in any extracurriculars.
My breath whooshes out of me when I see her come around the corner of the english building. I saw her last night, kissed her until our lips were numb, and then missed her the second she left my car and went upstairs to her apartment.
Now she’s coming to me, walking in that graceful way she has, as if she’s floating and thinking of something peaceful.
“Hey, you,” she says in a thick voice, sliding her arms around my neck. “Good idea.”
I texted her two hours ago, right before school, and asked her to meet me ten minutes after third period began. I chose third period because I know Kelsey will be across campus in a math class. No chance of her leaving class for any reason and spotting us.
“I come up with good ideas from time to time.” My hands wrap around her waist, and I tug until she’s flush against me.
She breathes deeply, her chest filling and pressing into me. Leaning my head into her, I groan into her ear. Ember does things to me that I don’t understand. She steals my breath and fills me all at the same time, makes my head spin and kidnaps my thoughts. She smells like sunflowers and citrus, and it gives me the very best high, one I never want to come down from.
My lips hover a millimeter from hers, and I let them hang there. Her lips turn up in a playful grin.
“I can resist longer than you can,” she says playfully.
The competitor in me awakens. “I doubt that.”
“Try me,” she whispers, her breath tickling my lips. I nearly lose it right there, but my love for sport stops me.
I start at her wrist, trailing my finger along it, then up the sensitive skin on the inside of her arm. She’s wearing a tank top, and when I reach her shoulder, I slide my finger beneath the strap and let it slide down the curve and onto the swell of her chest. Her quiver makes me want to stop, drag her into my car, drive to her empty apartment, and take her places she’s never been before.
“Mmmm,” she moans softly, pressing harder into me.
“What the fuck?”
Our heads turn as one.
Hands on hips, mouth open wide, eyes gleaming with shock and the pleasure of a juicy secret, is Tana Blockhill.
Kelsey’s best friend. Loose term, of course. Kelsey calls Tana a bitch behind her back.
Tana laughs. A deep, throaty, I-can’t-believe-it-but-I’m-happy-I-know-it sound.
Four seconds ago, Ember was moaning from enjoyment, but the sound she’s making now is frustrated and fearful.
Tana walks closer. Her sneer reminds me of a jungle cat, the way it pulls up on one side and bares only a few teeth.
“You’ve moved on quickly,” she says, gaze fixed on me. She flicks her eyes to Ember, who has taken two steps back from our embrace. “With fire crotch.”
I flick my hand out, gesturing behind Tana. “Run along. Go tell Kelsey what you saw. We both know it’s the first thing you’re going to do.”
“She deserves to know,” Tana hisses. Her gaze shifts from me to Ember and back again.
“You know we broke up, Tana. Go do something better with your time.” I grab Ember by the hand and pull her until we’re around the side of the building. I try to tug her into my arms, but she resists.
“I’ve made it almost all of high school without drama.” Her eyes flash. She’s angry.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring this on us.” Reaching out, I run a finger along her cheekbone. Her mouth runs in a straight, pissed off line, but her skin warms beneath my touch. “Are you opposed to skipping?” I ask.
She doesn’t seem like the rule-following type. Ember does whatever she feels inclined to do. With her, it doesn’t seem like there’s much forethought.
She slowly shakes her head.
“Then let’s get out of here,” I say, encouraged when I see her bite her bottom lip and nod excitedly.
I pull her past the science building towards the gym. “There’s an exit over here. Nobody uses it, and it’s not visible from any of the classrooms over there.”
“Do you skip often?”
“Not usually during the season. When it’s warm, Tripp likes to lie out by his pool, and I tag along. We don’t have a pool.” I shrug. “Plus, Tripp’s cousin has good weed, and he invites him over.”
“Noah!”
I look back and nearly laugh at her shocked face. “You’re the one with the tattoo,” I remind her.
“So?”
“That’s kind of bad-ass.”
“You could get a tattoo. You’re eighteen.”
“My mother would disown me. She hates them.” Crap. “I didn’t mean it—”
“Shut up.” Ember says it good-naturedly, her free hand waving around in front of her. “I don’t care. Add it to the list of things she doesn’t like about me, which isn’t very long, and yet…” She shakes her head, the messy red bun on top of her hair tilting.
“I don’t get it either.” We get to the exit and slip through undetected. My car is in the first row of the parking lot, just fifty feet away.
On the way to my house we stop at a drive-through and grab lunch.
“My mom left this morning,” I tell Ember, when her mouth is full of fries. “She had to go see a restaurant chain who’s considering carrying Sutton wine.”
Ember’s eyes grow big as she swallows. “And your dad?” Her voice is high-pitched.
“In his office at the welcome center.” I’m trying not to sound like it’s a big deal, but it’s a big deal. We came close that time at her apartment, and every time I kiss her I think I’m near combustion. I know it’s important for her, and even though it’s not my first time, it’s important to me, too.
“But that doesn’t mean anything, Ember.” I take my hand from the wheel and rest it on her knee. “We can just watch a movie, chill out, or whatever. No pressure, okay?” I wish I could spend more time watching her instead of the road. I love to watch her think. Her expressions change quickly as she flits among emotions.
“What if, maybe, I mean, um…” She clears her throat. I look over for just a second and see her square her shoulders. “What if I want to do more than watch a movie?”
I hit the gas and our heads fly back. She laughs, yelling my name.
Taking my foot off the pedal, I laugh. “Kidding, but if Black Beauty had rocket boosters, I would’ve already enabled them.”
She smiles and feeds me a few fries.
“Are you trying to shut
me up?” I ask, but it comes out garbled because my mouth is full.
“Basically.” She shoots me a sassy look.
I’m trying to stay calm and not focus on the fact that she wants to do more than watch a movie, but it’s hard. Pun intended. It’s a good thing she has started feeding me the hamburger I ordered. I need the distraction.
We pull up to my house, and just as I said, it’s empty. Dad’s car is down at the vineyard with him, and mom’s car is parked at the airport. On Tuesday’s, Gretchen prepares a make-ahead meal and takes Wednesday’s off. We are really, truly, alone.
“Movie?” I ask Ember after we throw our trash away in the kitchen and grab drinks.
“Sure,” she answers. Her voice is small.
We head upstairs to my room, and I grab the remote and lie on my bed. Ember folds herself into a seat beside me, but her body is stiff, like a puppet.
“Sometimes I think about getting a tattoo,” I say as I flip through channels looking for something good.
“Yeah?” Her voice sounds a little better now. She’s intrigued. “Of what?”
There’s nothing good on, and I’m not interested in picking a movie, so I turn off the TV and roll onto my side so I can face her. “How do I choose?”
She slides down until she’s on her back, then props herself up on her elbows. Twisting her lips like she’s thinking, she turns to me. “You have to search yourself. Your soul. A tattoo lasts forever, or it’s supposed to, so whatever you choose has to be forever too.”
“Can I choose you? I’ll get your face tattooed across my whole back. Life-size.”
She tips her head back and rolls her eyes at the ceiling. “Be serious. What’s important to you?”
“My family, soccer, you.” I don’t have to search myself to know that.
“Are there any credo’s you live by? Any symbols that represent your personal philosophy?”
I close my eyes and think. And I come up with…nothing. Absolutely nothing. I nod at her stretched-out abdomen. “What does yours stand for?” Maybe knowing her reasons will get my creative juices flowing.
“Our humanness. Explosion and regrowth. A dandelion explodes like a volcano, but in a much sweeter, more peaceful way. Before it does, it’s whole and soft, and when it explodes, its seeds float out and can land anywhere. Wherever the seeds land, a new dandelion can grow. It makes me think of the human condition. How fragile we all are, but also how capable we are of getting up and going on.”
Her face softens and pinks when she finishes speaking.
“Don’t be embarrassed. That’s deeper and more thoughtful than anything I could ever think. I’m a dumb jock.” I’m smiling to show her I’m joking, but there isn’t much joke to my words. I’ve lived and breathed soccer, and that left no time for reading or learning about much else.
Ember’s lips draw together, but she stays quiet.
“What?” I know she has something to say.
“You’re so far from a dumb jock, and as someone who formerly thought maybe you were one, let me be the first to tell you that’s not true.”
Narrowed eyes is my best response. She laughs at them and shrugs, as if she can’t help her former assumptions. “Do you have a Sharpie?”
“Top drawer,” I answer, inclining my head to my desk.
Ember gets up, going to it. She pauses to frown at the picture of her, and then digs through my drawer until she finds the navy-blue marker. She keeps her eyes on me as she comes back to the bed, her eyebrows wiggling.
My mouth suddenly feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. “What are you planning?”
She sinks down onto the bed and folds her legs under herself. “I’m going to give you a tattoo.”
Hmm… That I can handle. It’s marker. It will come off eventually.
I sit up and take off my shirt, then lie back down. “Across my ribs, like yours.”
She uncaps the marker and bends down. Steadying herself on the bed with her left hand, and with her right hand poised an inch above my body, she grins. “Are you ready?”
“Do I get to choose?” I’ve propped myself up on my elbows, like she was before she got this wild idea, and I’m looking down at her. She looks so beautiful right now with her sparkling, excited eyes and flushed cheeks.
“I’d like to, if you don’t mind.”
I can’t deny this girl. I can’t say no to her hopeful face. Not when she’s licking her lips like she’s doing now, and then sinking her teeth into the bottom one, like she’s doing right fucking now.
“Go ahead,” I say as I gesture to the middle of my body.
She beams. So worth it. I don’t care if she draws Rainbow Brite on me.
Lying back on my pillow, I look up to the ceiling as the tip of the marker hits my skin. It feels moist. She’s intent on her work, and I’m not about to talk to her in case it distracts her and she messes up. Instead, I think of ways to keep this tattoo a secret from my teammates until it washes off. It’s going to be hard, considering we shower after practice.
A few minutes later she sits up, and I hear the marker’s cap snap back into place. She leans back down and blows warm breath on my skin, drying it. Funny how her warmth causes goosebumps to rise on me. “Done,” she announces, moving away.
Trying to look down at your ribs is a lot harder than it sounds. From what I can see, it looks like upside down letters.
“Tell me about it.” I’ve lowered my head as far as it will go and still can’t understand what it says.
“Sit up,” she instructs, pulling my hands until I’m seated. Her fingers graze the space beneath the letters. “It says shmily.”
“Shmily?” My nose crinkles. I don’t mean for it to, but it does. “Does that have a special meaning?”
She grins, tapping the center of her open palm on the marker in time with her rapid head nods.
When she doesn’t say anything, I ask “Are you going to tell me what it means?”
“Noooo.” Her voice is soft, her lips curling with her amusement.
“Are you kidding me?” A medium-size child could probably fit their fist in my mouth right now, that’s how far it’s open.
“I’ll tell you. Someday. Just not now. But I promise, it’s not bad.”
This girl is crazy. Ember is joyful and funny, weird and incredible, challenging and unexpected.
“Now”—she turns, tossing the marker to the floor, where it lands with a soft thud—“I don’t know about you, but I didn’t cut class just to fulfill my dreams of being a tattoo artist.” The slightly upturned corners of her lips and her shimmering eyes make her look playful.
“No?” My body feels hot already, as if her words started a fire that was an inferno from the onset.
“Nope.”
I grab her shoulders and push her down, pinning her with mine. Her arms wrap around my neck, and she nips my earlobe.
“I’m ready,” she whispers.
I am too. More than I’ve ever been. To the point where I know any other experience before this is about to turn to vapor. Because Ember is magic.
She’s wearing a dress, and when I push it up I find that the tops of her thighs are freckled. When my finger traces the dots, it’s as if I’m connecting them. This time, when I touch her, she doesn’t stop me.
Kissing Ember, touching her smooth skin, listening to the soft sounds she makes, is like a collision of everything overwhelming at once. All I can think about is that one word I’ve been using to describe her since the moment I pulled her from that lake.
Magic.
What’s not magic is hearing my dad’s voice when I’m sliding a second finger into Ember. Sweet, innocent Ember, who has never done this before. She’s squirming beneath me and digging her fingers into my skin, probably leaving marks and giving my teammates a second reason to tease me.
Thank the flipping lord my dad knocked first. Ember’s limbs are frozen, her eyes fearful.
“It’s okay,” I mouth. I don’t know that for certain, but it se
ems like the right thing to say.
“Noah, the school called and said you left during third period and didn’t return.” Even through the wooden door I can hear his irritation. “You and Ember need to go back to school, and don’t do this again.”
How the hell did he know? Coughing, I call out “Okay, Dad.” His footsteps are loud as he walks away.
Ember reaches down and pushes my hand until it’s outside of her. Her red face combines with her copper hair and makes her look like the flame atop a torch.
“I have an idea,” I say quickly.
“Is it as good as the one to kiss outside third period?” She tries to narrow her eyes but the expression falls short. She’s still too worked up to look disapproving.
“Better.” I place a kiss on her forehead and tug on her dress. She lifts her hips and I pull it down and smooth it out. “I need you to get off work the third weekend in April. And you need to make a new friend and stay the night at her house that weekend.”
“But that’s—”
“Prom?”
She nods.
“Did you want to go?”
Her wrinkled nose is my answer.
“Don’t worry about that.”
By some stroke of luck, she doesn’t press the issue.
We tread quietly down the stairs and through the living room. When we get out front I notice my dad’s car is already gone. Again I wonder how he knew exactly what I was up to.
The question rattles me. Especially considering what I have planned for the third weekend in April.
10
Ember
I get it.
I can see why all this is happening.
Jealousy.
Open hostility.
Curiosity and its best friend, awareness.
People are aware of me now. The periphery. That’s where I was B.N.
Before Noah.
But A.N.?
I’m in the middle of it all, an unwilling and reluctant participant.
Kelsey hates me. She’s made it clear, and her group of fake friends have supported her en masse. It’s been two weeks since Tana saw Noah and me together and blabbed.
Magic Minutes (The Time Series Book 2) Page 8
