She wanted to play doctor. I sat. As she prodded my puffy right brow, her warm breath fanned my face. I closed my eyes and tried to reign in the urge to touch her.
“It’s a clean slit over your eyebrow. I think if we pinch it together with a bandage and ice it, you should be okay,” she said. “Do you have a first aid kit or something?”
Not waiting for an answer, she went into the bathroom in search of bandages and antiseptic.
“Hey, now that we know the guy’s going to live, how about April and I go get pizza and a six pack?” Dario asked.
“Fine with me. Just make sure you get bottles. None of that canned shit,” I said, and looked to Claude as she reentered the kitchen.
“I’m getting an iced coffee,” April said. “You want one, chica?”
“Yes, that sounds good,” Claudia nodded, and I was happy she planned on staying.
“Cool. Be right back then,” Dario said. The two left the house.
Claudia prepped a triage area. “Another fight, huh?” When I didn’t answer, she shook her head. “Aren’t you getting too old for that?”
“Nah. I’m just getting good at it,” I smirked.
“My father thinks you’re just another young guy with raging hormones. Maybe he’s right.” She doused some gauze with peroxide and held it to the cut.
It burned like a blowtorch. Tensing, I slouched down in the seat sliding my legs straight out in front of me, one leg between hers. I nudged her knee with mine. “I’m surprised he allows you to be in the same house with me.”
“Believe me, he’d rather I not be.” She picked up a bandage and hovered over me. “The only reason he agreed is because I’m helping your mother.”
After the fight and Diane’s proposition, I was feeling hyped up and reckless. I looked up at her as she leaned over me. So close, I could smell her and feel her skin radiating heat. Even if she wasn’t aware of it, her body was calling me.
“You smell good,” I murmured, and I slid my hand around the back of her knee, feeling the warmth of her leg.
She slapped it away like an annoying mosquito. “I’m not wearing any perfume.”
It was true. She didn’t smell of flowers, vanilla, or any other namable scents, but that didn’t mean she didn’t still get to me. I had an urge to taste the smell of her skin.
“I guess I just like the way you naturally smell.” I admired her body, letting my eyes travel slowly upwards, my gaze hanging on each curve. I put my hand back on her leg and caressed her thigh. Our exchange suddenly became less like a ball game and more of a hunt.
“Don’t start this again.” Grumbling impatiently, she pushed the offending hand away. “We’re just friends, remember?”
“Right, the ‘f’ word,” I quipped.
Ignoring me, she leaned forward to apply the bandage. I tried to snatch it from her. “I got this.”
“Just let me finish,” she said, refusing to give up the bandage.
“You’re too close.” I sat up, continuing the tug-of-war. “My hormones are raging.”
“Oh, come on.” She scoffed. “Seriously?”
I patted my lap. “Sit right here and see for yourself.” Her eyes darted downwards. Releasing the bandage like the thing had just grown legs, she practically hopped away. All I could do was laugh.
Keeping her distance, Claudia followed me to the bathroom and watched as I faced the mirror and applied the bandage. When I finished, I rested my hands on the basin. The cut wasn’t too bad, but the area was swollen. I’d have to come up with something to tell Julia.
What a night. I closed my eyes and took a slow breath.
“God, I really want a cigarette,” I grumbled aloud. Turning to face her, I raised my eyebrows hopefully. “Since I gave up smoking for you, I think you should kiss me and help me forget about wanting one.”
She covered her mouth with her knuckles and shook her head, but not before I saw her hide a coy smile. I didn’t expect her to agree, but the flirty refusal only stoked the fire.
I made a grab for her, but she quickly stepped back away from me. Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out a pack of gum.
“I’ve heard chewing gum helps with cravings.”
Chewing hard and fast on two pieces of gum, I went up to check on Julia while Claudia called to check in with her father. Julia was sleeping. I ducked into my bedroom to put on a clean shirt and some cologne and then brushed my teeth.
Staring at my reflection, I gave myself a pep talk. Tonight was the night. Before Claudia left, she would agree to go out with me. I wasn’t taking no for an answer.
In the kitchen again, I filled a baggie with ice and pressed it to my forehead. Dario and April returned a few minutes later with the food and drinks. We served up the pizza in the kitchen and then moved to the living room.
The night slipped by easy. Dario and April were long-time friends of both Claudia and me. The girls were relaxed and laughed at all my jokes. Like a good wingman, Dario mentioned my guitar, doing his best to impress Claudia with my abilities.
“Bet you didn’t know this guy was one of the main attractions at high school band nights,” Dario said, selling me like an up-and-coming talent to an agent.
“The same guy who doesn’t like to dance in public performed at band night?” Claudia eyed me doubtfully.
I nodded.
“Interesting. What other talents do you have?”
I smiled slowly. “I’ll show you later.”
She rolled her eyes, and everyone laughed.
I flipped on the television to catch the Yankees’ score. This time everyone groaned. Down by three runs in the sixth against Boston.
“Ah, they can’t let the Sox take it. I bet a guy at work on this game.” All the while casually sliding my arm behind Claudia’s shoulders and rubbing my leg against hers. She inhaled sharply, and both of the girls grew quiet. When I glanced over at them, Claudia looked away, but April smiled knowingly at me.
Claudia slid away, out from under my arm, closer to the end of the couch.
I laughed at her retreat. “The heat getting to you?”
“What heat?”
Dario and April just watched as I slid close again, cornering her against the end of the couch.
“Stop.” She batted my hand away, but she was also laughing.
I ignored her attempt to stop me and pulled her close. Grinning triumphantly, I held her snug against my side. “Is your skin burning off yet?”
“That would be no,” she said, scoffing.
“Relax. Even with all this undeniable heat between us, touching me doesn’t hurt. It’s all good.”
She flushed. “Yeah, well, sorry to tell you, but I don’t feel the heat.” She pushed me away. “And I absolutely do not plan on touching you.”
“What if I plan on touching you?”
“That’s called sexual harassment, and it’s against the law.”
The air was still. Even as her eyes warned me, I was too keyed up with her this close.
“We should get going, Dar.” April stood up trying hard not to smile, but Dario laughed out loud.
“Yeah, me too.” Claudia jumped to her feet, clearly getting ready to bolt.
April gave Claudia a hug, then leaned over her shoulder, and blew me a kiss. “Goodnight, sweet frog!” Giggling, she took Dario’s hand and slipped out the door.
“Sweet frog?” I asked, watching them leave. “What’s that mean?”
“I don’t know. Anyway, good night.” She rushed the screen door, racing to catch up to April.
Nice try. I followed her outside.
Claudia stood next to April by the door of her car. I pinned her with my eyes. “Come over tomorrow night. We’ll watch a movie or something.”
“I don’t think so.” Her eyes lowered to the collar of my shirt.
“It’s the bandage, isn’t it? I look like hell.”
She let out a tiny laugh. “You do look a bit like a roughed up gang member.”
I jutted
my chin out and leaned close. “But my lips are in perfect working order. Not a scratch.”
Claudia’s mouth twitched, and she glanced at April for a way out. Like a little girl, she snatched at one of April’s hands in a schoolyard attempt to keep me away, but I moved in anyway. She put up her other hand trying to stop me, but I grabbed it and held it away. Overpowering her, I aligned myself with her and pressed her against the car with my whole body.
“Come on, April,” Dario called from across the lawn. “Let’s make tracks.”
“I’m trying, Dar, but the girl’s got a death grip on my hand. And woo wee,” April began to fan herself, “it sure is getting hot over here!”
I smiled at April’s comment but didn’t take my eyes from Claudia. I held her there, against the car, letting the heat build between us. Both of our breaths came in shallow gasps. It was hot. Spontaneous combustion came to mind.
“Get off me,” she commanded, but there was no force behind the words.
“Stop playing hard to get and just admit that you like me.” I dipped my head closer. “Come over tomorrow night. You won’t be sorry.”
When she shook her head no, I reached up to hold her chin with my free hand. She eyed me nervously just before I ran my tongue over her lips, deftly licking the entire length of her mouth. Sweet. Her eyes went large with surprise and letting go of April’s hand, she pressed her knuckles to her mouth.
“Tomorrow,” I repeated before releasing her and walking back towards the house.
“Wow,” I heard April laugh behind me. “That’s one rana caliente!”
“A what?” Claudia asked.
“That’s one hot frog.”
14. Claudia
I went to bed, but still rattled from Toby’s intense advances, sleep came in fits. Normally, when a guy came on too strong, I was quick to make it clear nothing would happen. But nothing seemed to dissuade Toby. Most upsetting was that, despite my resolve to remain uninterested, whenever he came near, I couldn’t do it. I found myself anticipating his closeness, almost craving it.
This was completely uncharted territory for me.
The sleepless night took its toll, and I struggled to get through my shift at Sterling the following day. At the end of it, I dragged myself through the door, just happy to get home.
The relief was short-lived.
My father stood in full uniform in the kitchen, as though I’d caught him on his way to work. His face was grim.
“Dad? What’s wrong?”
“Care to explain all this?” His hand fanned across some paperwork on the counter.
There, laid out across the counter like drug paraphernalia in a court case, was evidence of my secret pursuit—my stack of college brochures and application receipt letter. I felt the color drain out of my face and then return as a burning flush.
“You went through my room!”
His reply was stern, “I’m your father. I have a right to know what you’re up to.”
I was flabbergasted. “But you violated my privacy!”
“Too bad!” Dad smacked the counter with his open palm. I flinched. “I shouldn’t have to go through your things to find what you’re up to. This,” Dad poked at the college paperwork, “is inexcusable.”
“Calm down,” I snapped. “This is exactly the reason I didn’t tell you.”
With a scowl, he put his hands on his hips. “Oh, you have no idea how much you sound like your mother.”
“And what’s so bad about that?”
“Your mother wanted things we never agreed to. And when she didn’t get them, she left.” Angling his chin down, he eyed me. I imagined the fear he put in the people he interrogated. “Is that what you’re doing?”
“Dad, I just want to go away to school. It’s only two years. Not forever!”
There was silence as he seemed to consider this. I was almost hopeful, until he asked, “Are there other things you’re hiding from me?”
“Yeah. I’m pregnant.” I punctuated the wild declaration with a glib snort.
Dad’s jaw tightened. “I don’t find that amusing.”
Circumspect, I pulled back. “There’s nothing else.”
“Claudia, I’m disappointed in you. You’ve damaged my trust, and I don’t take that lightly.” His tone was quiet and controlled, effectively paralyzing me with guilt. “You listen and understand this: I won’t finance USC or any college that I do not approve of.”
I felt my bottom lip begin to quake. “But what if I get accepted?”
“No point in debating that.” He reached into the pile and pulled out a flat, white envelope imprinted with the USC logo—one that had already been opened. “You’ll be staying home.”
My heart dropped into my stomach. Snatching the envelope from him, I turned and ran out the front door.
I could hear him calling after me, but I got in my car, revved the engine, and threw it into reverse. Someone honked, but, ignoring them, I sped down the road. I needed to get away. From the house, from him. Immediately. I smacked the envelope down in the car seat next to me and watched it out of the corner of my eye as though it was an unpredictable passenger who might grab the steering wheel and drive me off the road.
Around the corner and down the block, I raced to the bay. Careening into a parking spot in the empty lot at our little town beach, I turned off the engine and stared at the envelope. It was addressed to me! It was mine! He had no right to open it! Seizing it, I yanked out the letter, ripping it in the process.
Thank you for your interest… blah, blah, blah… The Davis School of Gerontology … unprecedented amount of applicants for this specialized program … currently, enrollment has reached its limitation … regretfully your application will be placed on our pending list…
Wait-listed! I crumbled the letter into a ball and chucked it against the door. Folding my arms over the steering wheel, I pressed my face down onto them and let the tears come. My dreams were trashed, ripped out from under me. I had nothing now. Nothing! I was doomed to stay in Sayville, living under my father’s thumb, attending the school of his choosing and doing his bidding. I would never have a life of my own.
It was close to an hour before I finally stopped crying, too tired to continue. I watched the sunset, feeling anesthetized. Somewhere deep inside, I knew I should be sensible and start thinking of a Plan B, an alternate goal, but I couldn’t. Not yet. I was too numb.
I picked up my phone to call April, but then I remembered she had a family party tonight. I knew she would tell me to come. I usually enjoyed her large, boisterous family gatherings, but tonight I couldn’t see myself enduring it. I scrolled through my contacts and saw Toby’s number.
For a moment, I felt a flood of warmth as I thought about his mouth on mine, his arms holding me. I leaned back and sighed wearily.
“Hey, Claude,” the deep, familiar voice came from my lap.
I jerked and stared down at the call screen. Oh, jeez. I must have accidentally hit the call button.
Tentatively, I put the phone to my ear.
“Hi,” I said and attempted a laugh. “I butt dialed you.”
“Oh, good, I thought you were calling to cancel on me.”
“Cancel? We don’t have plans.”
“Yes, we do. You’re coming over here to watch a movie with me,” he stated.
“Oh, that.”
“Come on, Claude. Don’t make me beg,” he begged. “I even got a copy of Mrs. Doubtfire.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” I meant to say it without any emotion, but my misery churned inside me like molten lava and a tiny sob leaked out.
“Claude, are you okay?” When I didn’t answer, he became more direct, “Where are you?”
“Beach,” I mumbled.
“I’m coming down there.”
The phone went silent.
I got out of my car and went out onto the sand, walking the few feet of the narrow beach to the water’s edge. It was only minutes before I heard tires crunching over the gr
itty pavement of the beach’s tiny parking lot. Through the blur of my tears, I saw the red Jeep, heard the door shut. And then he was there, the sand kicking up behind him as he came closer. He looked tough and strong, and though I was not sure exactly why, the fact that he was the one who came to me now, at this particular time, felt completely right.
I watched the wind whip at his tee shirt, making it cling to his muscular chest. Each step stripped away a piece of my composure, and when he was finally there, standing inches from me, I had no resistance left. I pushed myself into his arms and rose up on my toes to kiss him. He held me tightly and kissed me back. When my tears began to flow too heavily, he pressed my face to his chest and held me as the wind tangled our hair and the sky grew dark.
Finally, with his arm around my shoulders he asked, “Jesus, Claude. What’s going on?”
“I got wait-listed for USC,” I mumbled and reflexively curled into him.
“But doesn’t that mean you’ll get in if a spot opens up?”
With my face buried in his shirt, I shook my head. “It’s a specialized program. If something opened up, I wouldn’t necessarily be the first one they offered it to.”
“Ah, shit. I’m sorry.” He rubbed my arm.
“I had a big fight with my father over it. He threatened to cut off my college funds.”
“He’s just angry. He’ll cool off. It’ll be fine,” he said, trying so hard to say the right thing.
I shook my head. “None of it matters now. I didn’t get in.”
“But aren’t there, like, a million more colleges you can get into?” He stroked my hair, soothing me. “You’ll find another school.”
I sniffled. “I don’t want to find another school. And I don’t have it in me to start the whole application process over again. I’m stuck here.”
“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, until Julia’s better, I’m stuck here, too.” He rubbed my arm again. “We can be stuck together.”
Though the idea that he wanted to be ‘stuck’ with me sounded sweet, I didn’t understand why he’d want to. As I looked up at him, our eyes held, and I wondered out loud, “Why me?”
He smiled down at me. “Why not?”
Saving Toby Page 11
