by Laura Clark
After we kiss for a few minutes, he pulls his face away, but keeps me close to him. "So, you're really not mad at me?" he asks again.
"I wasn't ever really mad at you, Sam. I was just teasing before," I finally admit.
"Were you ever going to tell me? You had me sweating bullets, Laila. That is so, not cool," his voice is mocking anger, but his smile is huge.
I shrug and attempt to look indifferent. "What was I supposed to do? You were being so cute and sweet. It was kind of hard for me to tell you."
"But then you couldn't take it anymore and you just had to kiss me?" he asks playfully.
"Pretty much, but don't go and get a big head about it because I could easily get mad at you for real," I warn him.
"Is that so? Well, I think this calls for a little punishment."
My naughty schoolgirl fantasy flashes through my mind again, causing my face to immediately heat up. He dives forward, pushing me back on the couch, making me believe for a second that he really can read my mind. However, he doesn't kiss me passionately the way I am expecting him to. Instead, he starts tickling me. I am extremely ticklish, and he seems to know exactly which spots are the worst, too.
When I think I cannot take it anymore, and there are real tears streaming down my face because I've been laughing so hard, I start shouting, "Uncle!" I shout it three times, but his fingers are merciless. I end up falling off the couch, while squirming frantically to get out of his reach.
"Don't you know what Uncle means?" I ask breathlessly. I seem to be doing a lot of this lately, speaking when I can barely breathe. He reaches his hand down to help me get up, but I just sit there motionless, eyeing his hand suspiciously.
"Truce?" he asks innocently.
"Fine, but the next time I say Uncle when you’re tickling me, you had better stop."
He laughs, while pulling me back up on the couch. I snuggle in close to him, knowing that in just the matter of minutes, I won't be able to. He wraps his arm around me, and his fingers start dancing lightly across my back, inside the flap of my shirt. Just as he leans in to kiss me again, his expression turns devious, and his fingers shift from a sexy, brushing motion, into a full-on tickle.
"You said Truce. You said Truce," I repeat. "No fair. You said Truce, you cheater," I shout in between laughs.
He is so busy tickling me, and I am so busy squirming, trying desperately to get out of his reach, that we don't notice my brother hovering over us. He is staring at us like we are complete idiots. We finally stop when Kyle clears his throat really loud, as if to announce his presence. We both kind of smooth out our rumpled clothes, and sit up straight on the couch. Sam scoots away from me, and leans back on the couch, while I scoot forward, with my elbows resting on my bouncing, nervous legs.
"What are you guys doing?" He sounds really pissed.
Does he know? We were just tickling each other. Isn't that a huge leap to assume we were doing more than that? I really hate when Kyle is presumptuous. Okay, so maybe we were doing more, but Kyle doesn't know that, and he has no right to assume it. Yes, I realize how flimsy my argument is.
Before either of us can say anything in our defense, Kyle shouts out, "Are you having a tickle war without me? I don't think so." He lunges forward, doing a summersault dive onto the couch between us, and starts tickling both of us, the way we did when we were kids. I've never been so relieved in my life.
"You better be careful, Kyle. This one here is a cheater," I say, while sticking my tongue out at Sam.
"Am not."
"Are too. He doesn't follow the rules," I whine. We really do sound like children.
"Really?" Kyle asks in his best villain voice, while tapping his fingers across his chin, as if he is thinking about what to do next.
"Yeah. I screamed Uncle three times, but he didn't let up at all. Then, he called a Truce, only to trick me, so he could start tickling me again when I wasn't expecting it." I leave out the part about how he had tricked me into thinking he was about to kiss me.
"Hmmmm. Then, there is really only one way to handle this. Let's get him. He must pay for his crimes against humanity. Justice must prevail. Nobody gets away with breaking the supreme Tickle Law," Kyle announces triumphantly.
We both look at each other and nod, before charging forward and tackling Sam. The war continues on for another ten minutes or so. We are all laughing hysterically, to the point where my stomach muscles are starting to hurt.
Apparently Sam is still every bit as ticklish as me. Kyle, on the other hand, seems to be able to withstand our tickles more. It's either that, or Sam and I are just terrible ticklers. It is the most fun I've had in a really long time. It is like, for this short period of time, we are all just little kids again.
Kyle is the first to "cease and desist" when his obnoxious phone starts ringing. He bounces up to snatch his phone off the coffee table.
"No, seriously guys? You really should grow up." He pretends to be very serious as he says this, but the corners of his lips are turned up. He turns away to answer his phone as he leaps up the stairs, taking two at a time.
Sam and I look at each other again, and bust out laughing. We were so close to getting caught.
"Did you learn your lesson?" I ask playfully, with a snarky smile on my face.
"Would you believe me if I said yes?" he asks, while flashing me his own snarky smile.
I simply shrug. "Probably not. You've already proven to be a cheater, and I'm not so sure I believe that cheaters can ever change." I cross my arms over my chest and pretend to be mad at him.
"Only at tickle war," he whispers, before softly kissing my cheek.
He disappears before I can even ask him what he means. I don't want to get ahead of myself, but was he just trying to tell me that he would never cheat on me? Does that mean we are a real couple?
My pulse quickens, and the butterflies are swarming around in my mostly empty stomach. It reminds me that I never did eat dinner.
Kyle sneaks out of the house a few minutes later, expecting Sam to follow. Sam hangs back long enough to tell me good night in private. He asks me when I'll be home. I haven't technically lied to him about my plans tonight, and I really don't want to. So, I carefully sidestep his question.
"Don't worry. I will be here before you." Yeah, way before you, like right now.
"Can I give you a good night kiss?" he asks softly.
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
"Not now. I mean later tonight. Before bed?" he clarifies.
"I can't promise you I'll be awake. But if I am, sure." I shrug as if it weren't a big deal either way. Okay, so that is a lie. There is absolutely no way I will be able to fall asleep knowing that he is coming back to kiss me. I close the door behind him and turn the lock.
Chapter Twelve: My Name is Harry
It ends up being a pretty low-key evening. I decide to change into my cutest pajamas before climbing into bed. I wonder if they look too little girl-like, but then I remember these are probably the only set of pajamas I'd actually want Sam to see me in. However comfortable they are, the rest are old and ragged. Note to self. Shop for new pajamas. I'm definitely going need to have more than one nice pair. After all, this will probably not be the last time he sees me in my jammies.
He did practically call me his girlfriend earlier, right? I hate that it's not one hundred percent clear. I keep telling myself to initiate the DTR (Define The Relationship) talk, but I always seem to forget when we are together. I am usually so caught up in the moment, and I become completely tongue-tied. I do know one thing, though. No way is he going to be thinking about other girls when he knows he's going to be kissing me later, and that makes me feel positively giddy.
I check my phone again, before slipping under my comforter with my book. I somehow have missed four calls. Two of the calls were from Avery. One was from earlier. The second one was only a few minutes ago. I also missed a call from Allie and my brother. Why on earth is Kyle calling me?
I press the ic
on next to Avery's message, forcing myself to listen to my messages chronologically, even though my fingers are tempted to skip ahead to Kyle's message.
"Laila, it's me. Allie told me you guys aren't doing the movie night. She has to babysit? Anyway, I could really use your help with getting ready for my big date. Oh. My. Gosh. Just hearing myself say it out loud is kind of weird. It's my first real date, Lays! Can you believe it? Ahhhhh! Anyway, I hope you can come over. It would really mean a lot to me. I'm really nervous. Okay, call me back. Talk to you soon. Hugs."
I am The. Worst. Friend. Ever. This was a big night for Avery. I should have been there to support her. I can't believe I let my stupid jealousy over Trevor get in the way of my friendship with my best friend. I just hope she is having a good time and isn't too nervous. Trevor's green eyes are really calming. Hopefully, they make her feel comfortable, the same way they did for me. I press play to listen to her second message.
"Okay, I'm officially mad at you, Laila Marie Patterson. Well, maybe not really, because it's impossible to stay mad at you, but you didn't call me back. Anyway, I am having a great time. Trevor is a total gentleman. He opens doors for me. Oh, and get this, he actually scooted out the chair for me at dinner. Can you believe it? He definitely does not act like he's in high school. Anyway, I gotta go. We’re going to get ice cream at Moo Moo's and take it to the park. He even brought a blanket so we can look at the stars. How romantic is that? Okay, he's coming back. Adios."
Wow. Trevor is really trying to impress Avery and it seems to be working. For the first time since Avery admitted to me that she might actually like Trevor, I am truly happy for her. I just hope Trevor doesn't hurt her because then, I’d have to kill him. Better yet, I’ll just have my boyfriend kick his ass for me. What is wrong with me? I have got to stop calling Sam that.
I shoot Avery a quick text, letting her know how happy I am for her, and that I'm really sorry I didn't come over to help her get ready. It feels good that my sentiments are not forced this time.
The third message is from Allie, only I think she either purse dialed me, or one of the kids got ahold of her phone, because the entire message is just background noises and shuffling sounds. Curious to see what this last message is about, I finally hit play.
"Hey you. Okay, so I stole your brother's phone again. Before you chew my head off, I only did it because I don't have your cell phone number. It's not like I could ask Kyle for it without him getting suspicious. Regardless, I have it now. So, we are at this lame party. I guess it's not really lame. I mean it's lame because you aren't here, but I guess it could be worse."
He pauses for a moment while someone asks him a question. I am not completely sure, but it sounds like he may be a little tipsy. His voice is kind of slurring a bit, but in a cute kind of way.
"Anyway, I can't stop thinking about you. You . . . in that sexy black shirt. You do know that you were driving me crazy in the kitchen, when you were trying to get that knife down from the cabinet, don't you? That shirt kept opening up in the back and damn . . . girl. I just wanted to go over there, and push Kyle out of the way so I could kiss you."
He sighs dramatically, and I can just picture him shaking his head.
"See, Laila. Just the thought of you gets me worked up."
He lets out yet another sigh. Yep. He is definitely on his way to being drunk if he isn't already there. I look at the bar on my phone, and realize that I am only halfway through listening to this epically long message.
"Oh, and by the way, I am totally declaring a rematch with you and your brother on tickle war. You guys can't gang up on me like that. Okay, well, I don't know what you are doing, but I hope you are having fun. By the way, I was thinking we could go under cover, and give each other fake names? That way, if Kyle or your parents see you texting me, or the other way around, they won't know. What do you think? It could be wicked fun."
I could listen to him talk for hours. His voice is so sexy, even if he is slurring a few of his words right now.
"I think I've rambled on enough. I'm glad I have your number now. I’m programming it into my phone. Talk to you later, lil sis. I'd say don't wait up, but I want that kiss from you later tonight. Don't forget to delete this message, hottie. Wouldn't want Mommy Dearest to find out, now would we?"
I laugh because Kyle and I always call Mom that when we are about to get into trouble. Mom does not think it's very funny, and rightfully so. Mommy Dearest is an old movie about this mother who physically abused her daughter. She would do crazy things like beat her with a wire hanger. When Mom told us about the nightmares she used to have after watching it, Kyle and I had to see it. We've been torturing her ever since. Yes, we pretty much suck, but you'd laugh too if you saw the look on her face when we call her Mommy Dearest.
I'm so excited that I feel like I could literally explode. He called me. At a party. He broke into Kyle's phone just to get my number, and he called me from a fun party, because he was thinking about me. Oh, and he even called me a hottie. I feel like jumping up and down, and screaming really loud.
Instead, I hit play again because hearing Sam's voice is . . . awesome, and his message is almost too sweet to believe. I have to listen to it again, in order to convince myself that it is, indeed, real. That weightless feeling that I had last night returns. I wonder how it could get any better than this.
I am not sure exactly what time they will get home. He did say later tonight in his message. I hit play for the third time, refusing to delete the message. Mom would never check my voice messages anyway. At least, I sure hope she wouldn't. That would be a violation of privacy, and I can't see her doing that. I know she trusts me, which only makes me feel worse for sneaking around behind her back.
I might as well do some light reading in order to kill some time. Before I know it, I am completely immersed in my book again. After reading several chapters, and fighting to keep my heavy eyelids open, I slowly drift off to sleep. I manage to sleep pretty hard for a good couple of hours, and don't even stir until I hear a light tapping on my door. When the door slowly swings open, Sam peeks in to see if I'm awake. I wave him in as I rub my eyes.
"Did I wake you?" he asks, while sitting on the edge of my bed. I'm still trying to make my eyes focus. My iPad is lying on my chest, and my bedside lamp is still on. I hadn't planned on falling asleep yet. I press my lips together tightly, wondering if my breath is okay. After all, Sam is here to get that good night kiss.
"Maybe a little, but I'm glad you did. What time is it?" I ask, while yawning again.
"It's only eleven thirty, sleepyhead. I was sure I'd beat you home."
"I thought it was later than that. I guess I'm just trying to catch up, since somebody kept me up late last night," I tease him, as I sit up and twist my wild hair up into a messy bun. "I got your message. Did the party get any better?"
"Not really. I would have bailed earlier, but Kyle was waiting for Georgia. He gave me his keys so I could leave when she showed up. She's going to drive him home later."
"Okay, you keep talking about the elusive Georgia, as if I should know who she is." I snag a piece of spearmint gum out of my purse, and offer a stick to Sam.
He accepts it, unfolds the wrapper, and tosses it in his mouth, all while talking. "I thought you knew. Man, Kyle talks about her non-stop. They are always Facetiming each other. He met her on Christmas break."
We are both chomping on our gum, and staring at each other's lips. Speaking of lips, mine are dry and in need of some serious help. I pull my favorite tube of chocolate flavored lip-gloss out of my purse, and dab it onto my lips. His eyes are so fixed on them now, that it makes me blush.
"Yeah, but he came home for Christmas break." I'm surprised that my ears are even working right now.
"Yeah, he did. They actually met here. Her parents live in Westbrook, but they moved here after she graduated from high school, and went away to college."
"Sounds familiar."
Sam smiles, but his eyes have not wavered fr
om my mouth.
"Where does she go to school?" I ask, while smacking my lips together to spread the gloss out evenly.
He swallows hard, making me instantly feel guilty. I know I'm kind of pushing Sam for information, but Kyle hasn't even mentioned her name to me. I can't help but be curious.
"She goes to Mizzou, but I guess she's home for the summer. Kyle almost dropped his summer class just so he could come home to see her more. I don't think they are officially dating, though. They are apparently just really good friends, but I can tell Kyle has got it bad for her. I've never seen him like this with any one girl."
"What is she like?" I ask, while making small popping noises, as I blow small bubbles with my gum inside my mouth.
He sighs, indicating that I have, indeed, reached his limit on the dish on Kyle meter. "Laila, I don't know. She's nice, I guess. It's not like we hang out with her all the time."
I am kind of pouting, even though he has already told me more than I ever expected him to.
"So, did you have fun tonight?" he asks, clearly trying to change the subject. He is probably a little annoyed by all of my questions, or he is just uncomfortable revealing my brother's secrets. He is a very loyal friend. I'm pretty sure that Kyle would do the same for him.
"Yeah. It was an okay night. I didn't really do much, but it wasn't so bad. It would have been better if I could have seen you."
It's still not technically a lie, but I still can't help but feel tinge of guilt. I should probably just tell him the truth, but I don't. Instead, I deflect. I'm getting pretty good at this deflecting thing. I could almost make an art out of it.
"So what fake name do you want to be? I was thinking it should be really funny so when people hear it, they laugh and say, No way. Nobody would ever name his or her kid that. It's just not right. You know, like Harrison Butts or Richard Licher. What do you think?"
