High School Lover

by Rose Croft

  Eight Years Ago

  Bryan called me two days later and, just like that, he was back in my head. “How’s it going, Loren?”

  “Great. How are you?” My fingers clenched the phone tighter.

  He tried to say something, but I spoke over him, “I heard about the game. I’m so sorry you lost.” I wanted to kick myself for bringing it up. They’d lost in the semifinals of the state playoffs. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about it.

  “It sucks, but thanks anyway.”

  Silence. I pursed my lips, trying to think of something to say. I could hear his breath as he exhaled. “Uh, you wanna go watch a movie with me Saturday night?”

  My heart slammed into my chest. “Like a date?” God, what was wrong with me? I sounded like a complete idiot.

  He snickered. “Yeah, like a date.”

  “Sure.” I mentally counted to ten in my head, trying to keep myself from hyperventilating or saying anything else stupid.

  “Cool. I’ll pick you up at seven.” I gave him my address.

  After we hung up, I screamed like a teenaged fangirl who’d just met Nick Jonas.

  My mother popped her head into my room. “What’s wrong?”

  I jumped up. “Bryan Watson just asked me out on a date.” My mother’s eyes shot up. She threw her hands over her head and danced around, glancing at the ceiling in bliss, like she was at some church revival gathering. Her celebratory dance was messed up and ludicrous, but I was so excited and feeding off her joy that I let her horrible dancing slide. I basked in her happiness, and the realization that I was finally going out with Bryan.

  The following day, I was listening to “The Great Below” by Nine Inch Nails on my iPod, writing a new poem because Trent Reznor was my muse, my inspiration. He kind of reminded me of Andrew. The dark one, the misunderstood one who acted indifferent, but craved acceptance as much as any person would, at least that’s how I interpreted his music. As if serendipity were on my side, my phone flashed. Andrew.

  “Say hello to my little friend.”

  Then he sent a picture of the Scarface DVD.

  “You up for it?”

  “Hellz yeah! As if I would turn that down. When?”

  I responded as if everything were normal and he was my best friend. Not considering anything deeper. Not worried that my mother didn’t like him. And, I needed to see my best friend right now. It would be the same if Jamie had invited me over. Right?

  “Tonight. My house.”

  I didn’t even consider that we were meeting for the first time without the pretense of studying or going over one of my poems. All I knew was I’d missed him and needed to see him again. And I didn’t think about Bryan once as I pondered this. Different people, different situations. That’s what I kept telling myself.

  I took a little more care in my appearance for some reason. I pulled on an off-white, strappy, cotton summer dress that stopped above my knees and slipped on a pair of wedges. It wasn’t that dressy, but it was nicer than what I’d typically worn around him. I styled my hair, went a little heavier with the makeup, and spritzed some perfume. Pleased with my trying-to-look-good-without-going-overboard appearance, I set off.

  “Hey.” Andrew answered the door, leaning on the frame as his eyes roved over me—slowly, intensely like he did when he reviewed one of my poems. His lips curled up, and there was a familiarity that hadn’t been there before. I took it as his saying You look good.

  “What’s up?” I replied casually, refraining from touching his sexy dimple. He looked like he’d just showered because his inky hair was wet but swept back. He had on a black tee and faded jeans that hung low around his waist. When my eyes reached the floor, I noticed he was barefoot. And, do I even need to mention how pleasant he smelled? I wanted to press my nose to his neck and inhale, deeply.

  He put his hand on my back as I passed through the door. “I thought we could make some popcorn first.” When we reached the kitchen, he grabbed the bag from the counter and put it in the microwave.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and watched me as I fingered the kitchen island while we waited. He wore his typical half-smile in place that always made me wonder what he was thinking. And, I was also noticing how dang hot he looked. The more I was around him, the more my thoughts went down the gutter. As the kernels began to fire off, I heard, “Honey, make sure you don’t burn the popcorn.” I turned and saw a woman who looked like a petite replica of Andrew walking in.

  “Really, Mom? When was the last time I burned popcorn? When I was ten, maybe?”

  “I know.” She smiled like a southern belle and eyed me. “You must be Loren.”

  “Hi,” I waved at her with a look of uncertainty, thinking about how my mother reacted to Andrew with her cold, judgmental stare, whereas his mother seemed friendly, genuine. “I’m Rachel. So, you guys are going to watch a movie?” she asked, as Andrew took the puffy bag out and dumped it in a bowl.

  I nodded, and Andrew said, “Yeah, Scarface.”

  “Okay,” she replied with a weird look.

  He smirked and, with bowl in hand, kissed his mom’s cheek, and motioned for me. “Let’s go.”

  I held out my hand to her. “Nice to meet you.”

  She grinned as though she were happy that someone enjoyed hanging out with her misunderstood boy. She skipped the handshake and enveloped me in a hug. “My pleasure, Loren.”

  As I followed Andrew upstairs, I said, “Your mom is pretty and seems nice.”

  “She is and that was her smooth way of seeing who I invited over—coming in and making the burnt popcorn comment.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “I’ve never invited a girl over, and I’m sure my mom was mind-blown that I did.” My mind did a little self-implosion as I let his words sink in. He’d never had a girl here?

  We went up to the game room/theater room that I’d passed by the other night. The lights were dim. Someone was shouting on the couch, and I knew it was his brother, playing some video game and yelling at the TV. Same thing he was doing the other day when I was here.

  “Get up, fuckface. We’re going to watch a movie.” Andrew kicked his brother’s feet off the coffee table and set the bowl down.

  “Get out of the way.” John shifted his body, trying to see the game around Andrew while frantically pushing the buttons on the controller. “I’m about to score.” Unfortunately, his quarterback got sacked before he could throw the ball into the end zone. “Goddammit!” he yelled and threw the remote. He was about to go off on Andrew but saw me and stopped as I stared at him. He looked like a total goofball overreacting like that to a video game.

  “Uh…hey, Loren,” he said with a look of embarrassment as he stood slowly.

  “John.” I kept my lips from twitching. He seemed like an overgrown child who’d been put in timeout.

  Andrew shoved his shoulder. “Get out.” John took his time moving around the room as Andrew strode to the cabinet, leaned over, and switched out the game for the DVD.

  John paused by the door. “Loren, you still want to hang out with this guy? I don’t get it. You could do so much better.” I was about to defend Andrew, but when I saw John’s friendly smile, I felt like we became conspirators in a stupid inside joke. John apparently liked to tease, but it wasn’t mean-spirited. It almost felt like he wanted to get Andrew out of his shell. I understood that completely.

  Andrew’s head was bent over, but he said, “Stop flirting with Loren. She doesn’t go for younger guys who have an IQ of ten anyway.”

  I pulled my lips together to stop from laughing. Was Andrew jealous? John winked at me as if to say I planted the seed, so it’s up to you to cultivate this shit. I wanted to clarify we were just friends, but John left the room before I could say anything more.

  Andrew stalked over to the couch, mumbling something about how his brother was a dickhead. A few minutes later, since I wasn’t moving around, I started getting cold because it was freezing in their house, and the ceiling fan w
as going full blast overhead. Not trying to complain, I kept it to myself, rubbing my arms.

  “You cold?” He covered my hands with his.

  “I’m freezing,” I replied, trying to warm up, although the unsolicited touch from him made my skin prickle more. Damn, my body was cheering because it hadn’t forgotten how wonderful his touch felt. I hadn’t either.

  “Sorry, we keep the AC low.”

  “Yeah, you must be part polar bear.” I continued to rub my arms.

  He laughed. “I’ll get you a blanket.” He grabbed one out of a built-in cabinet by the TV. “Here, make yourself comfortable.”

  I slipped off my wedges and tucked my legs under me and draped myself.

  He passed the bowl of popcorn to me. I took a handful. “Thanks.” It seemed he knew the exact minute that I had finished my handful because, as if on cue, he held the bowl out. I liked that he was obviously paying attention to me. It was amazing, I had to admit, because nobody had paid attention to me like that. Jeez. I needed to get a grip. I wasn’t being ignored in my life by any means, but sitting here as Andrew passed the bowl before I even had to signal for more popcorn was very heady to me. Oh, the simple things in life!

  Later, a scene came on where they were in a motel and a man had a chainsaw, carving up another guy. It was gruesome and, not thinking, I face-dove into his chest. “I can’t watch this part.”

  He tensed but placed his hand on my shoulder tentatively. Then his hand curled around me, holding me. I could hear the chainsaw buzzing and someone screaming. “Tell me when it’s over.” My voice was muffled against his chest, and I relished, actually delved into, the clean smell of his T-shirt.

  “Okay.” His voice was deep, comforting, as he slid his hand down my arm.

  After there were no more agonizing screams, he said, “It’s over.” I could feel his breath tickle my hair as he spoke.

  I looked up at his face and our eyes met. I held his gaze, and then the inevitable—the magnetism that had lurked in the background came out full-bore. He leaned closer and his lips touched mine. It was a soft, beautiful kiss, nothing sloppy, no tongue down my throat like other kisses I’d experienced.

  Our lips moved back and forth, and I was the one who became more exploratory by pushing my tongue to taste his. He groaned and returned my kisses more urgently and put his hands in my hair as he roved my mouth. I could’ve kissed him all night; he was that good.

  I brought my hands up, running my fingers through his hair. We both were breathing hard; there was no sign of coming up for air. I wanted this kiss to last forever. I’d never experienced anything like this in my life. I just wanted more and more from him. I was carried away by the soft attention of his mouth as I continued to press my lips to his, keeping time with him. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. Okay, I did; Andrew was kissing me, making me feel like a marionette who had no control, no consequences for my actions. But I knew what I was doing. And I didn’t want it to stop.

  I moaned as his kisses traveled down the side of my face to my neck. Suddenly, I heard loud ringing. At first I thought it was in my head because I was intoxicated by his kisses. However, I soon enough realized it was a phone, a cellphone ringtone, so it couldn’t have been from the movie.

  “Damn, bro!” We jumped apart and clumsily struggled to a seated position as his brother stood there with a derisive smile on his face.

  “What the fuck do you want?” Andrew growled in a feral voice. My eyes were fixed on the TV, but I quickly glanced his way, and he looked like he might recreate the chainsaw scene with his brother.

  John waved his phone in the air. “Forgot my phone.” He turned to leave but paused, eyeing me as I sat frozen staring at the screen, and asked, “How’s the movie?”

  The next thing that caught my eye was an object flying in front of my face and hitting John on the head—a couch pillow. Andrew stood, tense. “Get out before I kick your ass!”

  His brother chuckled with his hands in the air. “Sorry for asking a question.”

  After that comment, I thought Andrew was going to dive over the coffee table and charge him. John was probably thinking that, too, and left.

  Andrew let out a deep breath and dropped down on the couch. He seemed frustrated. I didn’t blame him. But then I thought about the date I was going on with Bryan. Oh crap. What the hell was I doing? I felt like I’d just crossed some imaginary line. I was going out with Bryan this weekend, but here I was acting like a slut hitting on Andrew. That’s what my mother would say anyway. I felt guilty, horrible—wrong about the way I was feeling. And, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. We both sat stiffly watching the movie, neither speaking. The silence was deafening, except for the splattering of bullets from another violent scene.

  Finally, Andrew touched my arm. “You okay?”

  I nodded and continued staring at the movie, still embarrassed that his brother had witnessed our exchange. Mad at myself for already reminiscing about his kiss as though he were the friggin’ be-all and end-all to every fairy tale I’d ever fantasized about. And, I was supposed to go out with Bryan. I felt like I was cheating on Bryan, which was illogical because we hadn’t gone out yet. I was also nervous, wondering whether Andrew would try to pick up where we left off. Although my body seemed okay with another round, my brain reminded me that my mother would never go for my dating Andrew. I’d lied to her again about coming to his house. Not to mention I had already committed to go out with another person. Every rational thought was screaming Wrong! in my head.

  “If you’re okay, then why are you ignoring me?” he asked after several minutes of silence.

  “I’m not,” I denied, but even I knew I sounded weak and unconvincing.

  He shook his head. “Whatever, Loren.”

  I glanced at him, trying to save face. “What?”

  “All of a sudden, you’re acting like you would rather be anywhere but here.” We stared at each other for a minute.

  “I’m embarrassed that your brother caught us.”

  He rubbed my shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry about that. I just don’t want things to get weird between us.”

  “I don’t, either.” I opened my mouth to say more but stopped. What would I say? I’m sorry. Your kisses were amazing but my mom hates your guts. And I’m too weak to go against her. Oh, and by the way I’m going out with Bryan on Saturday. So…can we just be friends?

  “You’ve got something on your mind. Say it. I’m not a mind reader.”

  “I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I feel like I can share anything with you. You’ve grown to become my best friend, and I feel safe around you.”

  He shook his head and lifted a hand. “I sense a but…coming up.”

  I laughed out of nerves. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was hurt Andrew. “I just don’t want to go down a road that we can’t turn back from.”

  “So, you regret kissing me?”

  “It’s not that exactly,” I said, trying to think of the right way to express myself. The kiss was perfect, unforgettable. But, it couldn’t happen again. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to do that again.” In my mind I was doing the right thing, but it didn’t feel good at all. In fact, I felt like someone dropped a ton of lead down my throat, and it sank to the bottom of my heart, weighing it down.

  He appeared to be pondering what I said. “Okay…I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He pulled his bottom lip between his thumb and finger, “For the record, I value our friendship, too.” I was thankful that we were still good as friends, but I couldn’t help but think that I wanted more.

  “Great.” I breathed in relief. “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “No,” he said curtly and looked at the TV.

  I huffed in surprise.

  His lips curled up in a half-grin as he continued to watch the movie. “I’m kidding. It’s not like my saying no would stop you from asking a question.”

  “Have you done it before?” I can’t beli
eve I actually asked him that, but I was curious to know.

  His eyes widened. “Done what?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “You know…” I moved my index finger in and out of my other hand.

  “Seriously, Loren? I feel like we’re in sixth grade or something. ‘Done it?’ Obscene hand gestures?” He jokingly reprimanded me, mimicking my hand movements.

  “Well, have you?” Ignoring his antics, I persisted.

  “We just talked about feeling uncomfortable about a kiss, and now you want details of my sex life?”

  “I’m asking as a friend.”

  He crossed his hands over his chest and responded, again staring at the TV. “Okay, friend…a gentleman never tells.”

  “But you’re not a gentleman—you’re the bad guy, remember? Or shall I call you the devil?” I nudged him and smiled.

  “Are you even watching this movie or what?” he asked, annoyed, trying to change the subject.

  I watched him with my head tilted, as I waited for an explanation.

  With his arms still crossed as he stared at the screen, he answered, “Yes.” I wanted to know whom he’d been with. Was it Amanda? Was it another girl at our school? Jealousy was threatening to rear its head, and I needed to get a grip because I had no right to feel that way.

  Instead, I asked, “Did you enjoy it?”

  He turned and looked at me like I was an idiot.

  “Okay, I take that as a yes.”

  He went back to watching the movie. “What about you? Have you ever done it?”

  “No.”

  He made no comment but I could tell he was surprised because his eyes widened.

  My face felt hot from embarrassment. I broke eye contact and focused on the movie.

  “Why not?” he finally asked.

  “I’ve never really had a boyfriend. I mean…I’ve gone on dates but nothing serious.” I added, “I’m not someone who can do casual sex, either.”