Melissa (Daughters Series, #3)

by Leanne Davis

  Besides, she’ll probably just pretend nothing happened, because it meant nothing to her. That very well could be.

  It was so much easier when I abhorred her and didn’t give a crap.

  But I do now.

  All I can do is think about her. It changed everything. Yeah, sex did that. I was not prepared for it. It was far more than I anticipated and all I can do now is relive it. Again and again. It occupies my mind and refuses to let me go.

  Steeling every nerve I have, I throw on my ski parka, gloves, hat, and boots and head out. My stomach is pinching with cramps. I roll my eyes. I haven’t felt like this since I was a freshman and tried to sit at a lunch table with a new group of friends. I resent her, irrationally, but she makes me feel like that again.

  Even if she doesn’t do or say anything.

  She doesn’t see me at all. She’s so intense when she’s with her dogs. I finally lean forward, grab some snow, and form it into a ball. I toss it at her, hitting her right on the side of the face. She jumps and screeches as she brushes it off her cheek. Some must have gone down her neckline because she twists and turns her torso in a funny little dance. She glances around while still cursing the icy cold.

  I step closer and the dogs run over to me, going nuts as they clamor at my feet. I squat down, glad for the distraction. I pet their bellies and scratch their ears as they happily go crazy and jump all around me. I smile. I see why she likes them so much. They couldn’t care less who or what I am; they’re just glad and friendly because I’m warm and nice to them. She comes closer and my breath catches as I glance up to see her. Blooming like a flower in the deep, cerulean blue sky, her face is rosy without any makeup. Two long, cascading, curly tresses trail almost down to her waist and a bright, multi–colored hat sits jauntily on her head. It has a little tassel on the top that would be ridiculous or childish on anyone else, but her natural beauty makes her look adorable.

  My heart leaps at the sight of her. It should not matter how beautiful she is. I know that. Beauty is only skin deep and all that. I, of all people, don’t invest much stock in it. I mean, as if I could judge that kind of stuff. I’m maybe a six and she’s definitely a ten. There is no doubt in my mind. In the looks department, I’m so far below her that anyone would laugh, and find the pair of us comical, if they saw us. No doubt, they would be thinking, As if he has a chance with someone like her.

  My breath hitches as I glance back down. Her visible brilliance is almost too much. I feel intimidated, my mind goes blank and I can’t think of anything remotely witty or engaging to say. I grind my teeth, utterly annoyed with myself. Having known her forever, now I suddenly can’t find the right words to address her? I feel so much less with her now. And I never even cared before. Not until I had sex with this exceptional creature. That accomplishment still startles and confuses me. Hence, the reason why I’m acting like a shy, ignorant moron. I hate being like this. Unsure and unmanly, for God’s sake. Yeah, as if that’s going to earn me any points with her. Then again, do I want that with her?

  “Hey,” I finally muster up the courage to say. My gaze remains on Lucy, the knee–high mutt who is lying on her back with all four paws in the air and kicking her back leg while I scratch her tummy in just the right place.

  “Hey.” Her tone sounds weird. Almost breathless. I glance up to look at her. Is Melissa being kind of shy? Unsure of herself? What the hell?

  “Where have you been all week?” she asks.

  I’m surprised she noticed. I’ve been trying to avoid hanging around here. Does that mean she was looking for me?

  “Went to the coast and climbed last weekend, and did school assignments all week.”

  She kneels down, rubbing the small dog next to me. We glance at each other and then away. My hand pauses; is she feeling the same thing that I am? The sudden discomfort from nerves? A total lack of confidence? We’ve never been like this with each other. Thank God the dogs are around for distraction, giving both of us something to look at and do with our hands.

  “I thought… I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”

  I was. Should I admit that? Does it sound off–putting or make me look like a little pants wetter, who can’t even face the girl he had sex with, especially when I had no business doing so. And the manner and location only make it worse. I’ve been self–flagellating for a week. How did I manage to have unprotected sex? All of my damn genius is confined to the textbooks. I’m a freaking moron in real life events.

  “Why? Were you looking for me?” I try to avoid any discussion of it.

  “Yes,” she answers, and her tone is so soft and strange. Definitely un–Melissa. Her hot breath is visible in the cold air.

  “Why?” I prod, finally lifting my gaze to meet hers.

  “Just… I don’t know.”

  My heart swells with something akin to hope. Does she feel weird with me? It sounds almost like she was disappointed when she couldn’t find me. Almost like she doesn’t know how to act now around me. Do I make her nervous?

  “Are you okay?” I finally ask, hoping she will reveal something so I can figure out what to do.

  Her head bobs; then she pops out with, “I went to the counselor.”

  And Melissa is back again. She starts a new conversation that doesn’t relate to anything from before. I have no idea how she got there.

  “Uh, that’s good. Do you like her?”

  “I do. I like her. She was forward, straight–talking, and easy for me to open up to. I was afraid I’d hide some things in my need to please her, you know, and say what I thought she wanted to hear. Without being honest. Because, let’s face it, no one should have to listen to the unvarnished truth about me,” she says with a tone of levity, but I know it’s bogus.

  “I would like to know the unvarnished you,” I say, dropping my head in a quiet tone.

  She doesn’t answer. I lift my gaze to hers and see she is watching me. Her eyes are big and her cheeks seem so bright and rosy pink. She steals away my breath with that face of hers.

  “What if you don’t like the person you finally see?”

  “What if I do?” I counter.

  “Not many know her.”

  “Because you don’t know her yet,” I conclude.

  A slight smile softens her face. “Yes. Why do you know that about me? Few people do.” Her eyebrows lower and the sparkle in her eyes dim with confusion.

  “I don’t know what I know anymore. Not since…”

  “Me neither,” she finishes quietly when my statement falters. We gaze at each other until I glance down. Her gloved hand moves so her fingertips are touching mine. We can’t feel each other through the puffy, insulated gloves, but that small gesture releases something into my bloodstream. Optimism? Yeah, the smallness of her gesture, and almost shy way of doing it is so unlike how Melissa usually lets guys know she likes them. It is practically the antithesis of what she usually does. Does that mean something? Maybe. At least, it boosts my confidence to believe it could be so.

  I touch my fingers to hers and a smile lights up her face. We sit like that for minutes, squatting down in the snowy yard, the happy dogs around us, rubbing Lucy’s belly. Kind of funny, but it feels more powerful, and more connected than it did on the water tower.

  Then, something changes. She suddenly lets go and I start to rise to my feet when an unexpected explosion of powdery white snow hits my face. I blink at the snowflakes clinging to my eyelashes as they enter my nostrils and mouth. They instantly melt on my skin and make me wet. She laughs, already up on her feet again.

  “Only fair. You got me,” she says, grinning as she backs up. In no time, she is rapidly running away. She goes through the gate and races down the fence line toward the trees that border it, disappearing. After I can see properly again, I start after her.

  The dogs run off, barking and frolicking along the fence line with the same glee Melissa shows. She has an exuberance that I lack. I am usually quiet and what some people call down to earth. Rarely
do I squeal or show my excitement, whereas she gushes her emotions. They always show on her face and in her actions, her smile, and her body language. There is something so exuberant, almost sweet and honest about that.

  I follow her footsteps in the pristine snow and enter the woods. The trees are mostly skeletal and devoid of leaves. They look crusty in frozen white outlines. A few darker smudges of evergreen pine trees stand out against the bareness. The pond is frozen and the entire scene is a perfect setting for a Christmas card or one of those miniature Christmas village dioramas.

  It’s crazy quiet so I stop. My breath is all I can hear and it’s loud in my ears. There is no movement in the silent forest. No birds or any scuttle of life. I turn in a full circle, looking for flashes of clothes and eventually pick up her trail again. All at once, she gets me again. Another snowball crashes into my face and she’s off and running away. I go after her immediately. We stop and choose our sides. Hiding between the barren trees, we pelt each other with snowballs. Once in a while, we hit our mark, but most of the time, we miss. We are laughing and huffing with exertion. I am growing warm under all my layers of clothes. Finally, I spot her on my left, crouching behind a tree. It’s the last snowball she’ll hurl at me. I lunge for her waist, knocking her off her feet and onto the ground. The powdery snow cushions her fall. I have her under me so I straddle her. She is laughing hard and screaming, almost breathless.

  “Mercy. You win. You win.” But I ignore her.

  With an evil grin, I whitewash her. She can’t stop laughing and coughing as the fresh snow enters her mouth. Finally, grinning right along with her, I fall off to her side and roar with laughter just as hard as she is. She uses her gloves to try and brush the snowflakes out of her eyes. “Oh my God. It’s so cold. It’s melting inside my shirt.”

  I roll towards her, laughing harder. I’m staring down at her, and she slowly stops laughing as her smile also starts to recede. Her eyes look up at me, scanning my face. Her tongue comes out and she licks her lips. I am almost paralyzed with indecision. Do I go for it with her? Or are we just friends? Friends who managed to reestablish that after a mistaken encounter? But that’s not true. We weren’t really friends before our encounter.

  I brush her hair from where it sticks on her lips. It’s hard to maneuver while wearing giant gloves. Her breath is warm on my face. I lean forward until my lips touch hers. I’m expecting her to push on my chest, trying to get me off her, and away from her, but the opposite happens. She shifts until her knees pop up around me and I’m lying right up against her. Her head strains towards mine and her lips engage mine as earnestly as mine seek hers. I kiss her for minutes on end, languishing in her unique taste, the softness of her lips, and the radiant heat of her mouth. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

  Her mouth opens and her tongue runs over my lips. Everything inside me feels like it instantly explodes into flames at her touch. I grow hard and press myself against her. My tongue touches hers and I hear a soft little moan. I think she likes it, which makes me grow bolder and surer. I lean over her more and our kiss grows deep and long. I slip off my gloves so I can touch her face, cupping her chin in my hand and running my fingertips down her neck until her large coat stops me.

  I pull back, smiling at her gorgeous face. “The one time you finally wear a coat…”

  She laughs out loud. I like her husky laugh. It’s an almost sensuous sound. I used to think she did it on purpose to drive me crazy. But no, it’s her true laugh.

  We stare at each other until I ask, in an unsure voice that falters, “Should we… I mean, do you want to come inside the apartment? Maybe…” What? What should I say? Offer up sex? As if that could entice her. I’m confused about what I want to do with her. Sure, I had fun with her this afternoon. And this kiss? Well, wow.

  “For hot chocolate? Warm up a bit?” I gradually climb off her, realizing I almost have her pinned down and it’s weird. Even awkward. I give her more space.

  Her smile is huge as she sits up. “Never been enticed to a guy’s place with that bait before. Alcohol. Sex. Drugs, even. But hot chocolate…?”

  I feel like a horse’s ass and jump to my feet. I’m almost ready to walk away, sure I’ll never speak to her again. But she’s standing up too. She reaches out and pulls on my coat collar, which is stuck under the main part of my coat. Her smile is quick and real. She sounds almost shy as she adjusts it. “Might be my best offer yet. Yes, I’d like some hot chocolate.”

  I smile instantly, strangely believing her. I lean over to grab my gloves and pop back up. As I do so, her hand, now free from her glove, grabs my bare one. Startled, I glance at her. She smiles softly, and her hand feels warm and toasty in mine. I squeeze her fingers. We start to walk back through the small patch of forest and pond trailing the property line. We avoid a path that offers a view of her parents’ house. I don’t know if she does that on purpose, but we approach the apartment from behind. We walk up the stairs and go inside, sighing when the warm air envelops us. We ditch all our layers. It’s getting late in the afternoon now and the sun begins to set across the land. She saunters over to the window, silhouetted in the waning light. The sky turns gold and an ethereal, translucent white, making the trees dark outlines embossed on the blank, wintery sky and white snow. I stand beside her, staring at her as she gazes out. It really isn’t fair for anyone to be that beautiful.

  We don’t turn the light on. She’s wearing a thick sweater with a turtleneck under it and black leggings with thick socks that reach up to her knees over the leggings. They have little Santas all over them. My gaze is riveted on them as she slips her tall boots off. I don’t expect to find such whimsy from the cool, sophisticated style she usually chooses. Even if her attitude is not sophisticated. The pieces of her personality don’t all fit together nicely. But there is something intriguing about how she manages to combine them. Then again, everything is now tinged with the rosy afterglow of sex. Now I want her, and all of that must change everything I see in her.

  I touch her face. Her skin is cool, and starting to warm in the air. “What’s it like?”

  “What?” She turns towards me.

  “To look like you.”

  “Look like me…?” She strings her sentence out.

  “Like the most beautiful person in any room.”

  She laughs out loud. “I’d rather be the smartest. It hasn’t served me well. I’d rather be you.”

  I scoff. “Yeah, everyone needs a lecture about the scattering of red and orange colors when they’re trying to enjoy the sunset. I had to learn how to avoid saying stuff like that. Real buzzkill.”

  “Yeah, but you know stuff like that. I can’t begin to understand it. What is scattering?”

  Smiling, I reply, “The official term to describe the reflection or re–direction of light by small particles in the atmosphere.”

  “See? I’m too stupid to have any clue what that even means.”

  “You’re not stupid at all, Missy,” I say when she turns to stare out, suddenly melancholy.

  “I am not smart either, Seth. I doubt seriously if I could converse with you on the stuff you know already, let alone the stuff you’re learning. It would be strictly sex with me. That’s the draw. Just… just know that going in.”

  That is the draw. I step back, staring at her. No, she isn’t stupid. She knows that. She knows why my sudden change of heart about her is happening. But it doesn’t seem fair. To write her off as simply that.

  I step back and she turns towards me. “Where are you going?”

  “I promised you hot chocolate.” I smile. I know I sound so dopey, but her smile in return is worth it. I open the packets of Swiss Miss hot chocolate and put water on to boil. I have nothing fancy. When the water’s hot, I add it, a splash of milk, and a single marshmallow floating on top before I bring it to her. She takes it, smiling at me. The strange joy she expresses over the plainest, nerdy gesture startles me. She acts like I just ran a smooth play on the football field or
gave her an expensive gift. Not a lame mug of hot chocolate, and from a packet, I might add.

  She puts it to her mouth and blows on it. It’s a hot move. My body tightens at the way her lips pucker and she blows cool air out, looking up at me in the same moment as she blows on the steam. But I swear to God, she isn’t trying to be that way. She takes a sip and grins like a little girl. “Perfect. Not too hot or cold.”

  She turns and flops with all her weight onto the floor. She continues to sip the hot chocolate until she finally tilts the cup back and her throat vibrates as she swallows a big gulp. Not one to savor things. That makes me smile too, because it’s totally her. She sets her mug on the coffee table and curls her legs underneath her. I sit on the couch, across from her. The light of the fading day gives us a soft, romantic glow.

  “I don’t need to discuss scientific hypotheses with you, you know,” I finally say.

  “Good, because I can’t.”

  “Well, I bet you could if you really wanted to. But those certainly aren’t the subjects I sit around with my friends or past girlfriends talking about.”

  Her head tilts as if to say Really?

  “I met her, Seth. I know what Celeste was like. She and you were light years beyond me in your quick understanding and right brain capabilities and you two did talk about that stuff.”

  “Yeah? Well, I can’t offer you the rare experience that Anand could. You say I would not be impressed by your theoretical or mathematical knowledge? Well, I’m pretty sure you aren’t as sexually impressed with me when compared to the guys you’re used to. I mean, I saw… heard, so I know what he’s about and I can’t be…” I run my hands through my hair. I have no idea how to say what I mean. I can’t compete with the sexual partners she’s had. I know that. I can’t even talk about it.

  She tilts her head with a solemn expression. “Seth, he… Anand tried to get me to have sex with his friends. That night? On the stupid water tower? They took me there. No… no, I should say I went there, but I was high out of my mind. Pretty complacent. I am pretty easy when I’m high. Anand knows that.” Her eyes look down as her face flushes. I’m stunned. Is it embarrassment or shame for her to be telling me this? Meanwhile, I feel totally like a hick in the corner to be so shocked at what she’s confessing. This might be an average night for some people, but for me? It’s an alternate universe. I don’t know anyone else who’s done the kinds of stuff she describes.