Delicate

by Stephanie Campbell

  “Hi, yourself,” he says. He leans in and his lips part mine. Our mouths move together like this is their sole purpose. I’m completely lost in the moment, totally uncaring that there are still other people in the house. How did I get so lucky? How did I end up here tonight, with someone who loves me so completely? And then, I remember the lie I had to tell to be here. And my dad.

  “Shoot!” I say, pulling away. Trevor grunts in frustration.

  “What?” he asks, breathlessly.

  “Just give me a minute, I forgot to call my dad,” I say. Trevor rolls his eyes as I hold up a finger to signify one minute. I grab my iPhone off of the counter and make my way upstairs to find somewhere quiet to make my call.

  Trevor’s room is at the end of the hall. I’ve been here before with him and his parents during the summer. I close the door behind me and plop down on the enormous bed. I’m absolutely dreading making this call. I take a deep breath as I count the rings. One…Two…Three…please go to voicemail, please go to voicemail, I silently plead.

  “Sydney?” Dad grumbles. Crap, I’ve woken him up.

  “Hey, dad, sorry to wake you. We’re just headed to bed,” I say quietly. I hold my breath waiting for his response.

  “Okay, Syd. See you in the morning,” he says in a groggy voice. My lungs thank me as I finally exhale.

  “Okay, love you, Dad.”

  That was easier than I’d expected. I set my phone down on Trevor’s desk and open the bedroom door. As I step out into the hall, I hear obnoxious giggling that can only belong to one person. It isn’t the kind of laugh that makes you want to join in—it’s the kind that annoys the crap out of you, especially in the dark, quiet house. I spin around, wide-eyed. Shayna and Grant stand at the end of the hall. What are they doing here? Why is Grant trying to ruin my night? Shayna’s laughter is deafening and I can’t even imagine anything in the world that could be that funny. Her back is pressed up against the wall and Grant is leaning in, trying to quiet her down. Talking softly. Too softly for me to hear. Damn. He leads her into one of the other bedrooms at the end of the hall, and closes the door behind them. I scowl at the closed door and stomp down the stairs.

  “Stupid rah-rah,” I mumble under my breath.

  I tip-toe back to Trevor’s room and quickly change out of this stupid dress and into my requisite pajama pants and tank-top and lay my pearls on his desk neatly. When Trevor finally finds me, my face is still hot with anger.

  “What is Shayna Gillan doing here?” I demand. His head jerks back in surprise.

  “Uh, I pretty much invited everyone, Syd. What’s the problem?”

  Grant having the nerve to show up here with her is the problem.

  “Nothing,” I sigh. “I just…I just didn’t expect to see her here I guess.”

  “Okay,” he mutters, shaking his head like I’m a crazy person. Which, obviously, I sort of am for worrying about Shayna and Grant right now. “Everything cool with your dad?”

  He’s changing the subject. He’s probably chalked my mood up to being irked by his long ago confession that he once hooked up with Shayna. Then again, what guy within fifty miles hasn’t?

  “Yeah, I told him I was about to go to bed,” I say.

  That gets his attention. He lets the bag that he’s holding fall to the ground and pulls me in close to him. His warm breath envelops my face. Surrounds me with familiarity, and with all of the new things that are about to happen, swirling around in the air around us.

  “Well, then, let’s go. Wouldn’t want to lie to dear old dad, would you?” he laughs.

  The twisting nerves return to my stomach. His lips find the back of my neck again, his favorite spot, and then he pulls me down onto the bed with him.

  “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, cupping my face in his hands.

  “I love you,” I say.

  He slides me closer to him, pressing himself against me. Every inch of me is shaky. And tingly. And perfect. The weight of him above me should feel crushing, but instead, it feels safe. It feels good to be so wanted. My hands fumble through his hair, down his strong arms. Anywhere. Everywhere. Just wanting to be close to him.

  My internal clock wakes me up the next morning when the room is still dark. I’m curled up next to Trevor, wearing his undershirt. I want to kick myself for promising Sam I’d workout this morning. I slide silently off of Trevor’s warm chest and to the edge of the bed.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks in a raspy, sleep filled voice. He reaches over and runs his fingers through my hair, tugging on it softly. A chill runs through me and I close my eyes, wishing more than I can remember wishing for anything before, that I could crawl back into bed with him.

  “I have gym, I have to go,” I say.

  “I don’t think so,” he says, pulling back down again and kissing my neck.

  “I can’t miss, I did yesterday.”

  “You worked out yesterday,” he says with a wink.

  I frown at him. “You aren’t making this easy.”

  His mouth finds the spot on my neck again. “Please stay. Who knows how long it’ll be before I get to wake up next to you again?”

  God I want to stay. I’d waited so long for this, and now I doubt it’ll ever get old. I want to feel his arms around me again. I want to hold on to his strong bicep while he moves above me. I shake the thoughts from my head.

  “I’m sorry. I have to go,” I say, crawling toward him and kissing him lightly. He responds by biting on my bottom lip. He’s so not making this easy.

  “Come on, get up. I’ve got to get dressed and then you have to take me to my car.”

  Trevor sighs and flops back down onto his pillow. His annoyance is obvious, and after our phenomenal night, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting.

  I gather up my clothes and peek out the window at the rising sun over the lake. Outside, I hear a beep and glance toward the porch. My mouth involuntarily falls open. Grant. Wearing a white undershirt and his suit pants, and carrying Shayna in his arms to his car. Just like he cradled me at his house the other night. I push the anger away. I’d just had the most incredible night of my life. Why should I care if Grant spent his with Shayna?

  I don’t care.

  -Eleven—

  I unlock the door and flip on the lights inside the deserted gym. The familiar buzz of the overhead lights calms me and reminds me that I’m still the same Sydney I was yesterday.

  Stretching on the springy mat feels good. I’m not only sore from missing yesterdays workout, but from my other activities. I decide to work on floor exercise today since I’m alone. No equipment to fall off of, plus, Sam and I had added a new tumbling pass that I’m just getting used to for Nationals. I’m hoping to iron out some of the kinks and impress him in the morning.

  I pound out one pass after another, until I’m about to drop from exhaustion. I decide to take a little break and grab my water bottle. It’s near lunch time. I picture Quinn and Tessa still sleeping. Trevor probably drove back out to the lake house and passed back out after dropping me off at my car. I try to block the images from last night out long enough to get in a couple more tumbling runs.

  “You made it!” Sam exclaims, startling me.

  “Of course I did, I told you I would,” I say. I wipe the sweat from my brow and smile.

  “Pass looks great, kid. Good work,” he says.

  Sam and I have worked together for years. His demeanor is usually nonchalant; he never gets overly excited about much that I do, even when I win-so making him proud feels amazing.

  “So, you really came by to check up on me?” I ask.

  “Not entirely. Your dad called.”

  My entire body stiffens. Crappity crap crap crap.

  “The producers of the documentary called him last night. Did he tell you this yet?” Sam asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Okay, well, they’re concerned about the material that you’ve been giving them.”

  I think back over th
e last couple of weeks. I have been slacking on my confessionals. I didn’t do any spots while I was sick, and the ones I have done so far, have been more recaps of gym, leaving out anything personal. I know that’s not what they were looking for.

  “So, what does that mean?”

  “It means that they’re coming with us to Nationals. It means that they’re going to be filming a lot more here. Also, you’re dad is supposed to talk to you about them filming social things. You know, what’s that boyfriend of yours name?”

  The air leaves me.

  “Trevor,” I squeak.

  “Yeah, have him take you out. Go out with Quinn. She should have plenty of time, it’s not like she’s ever here.”

  I nod. I can’t say no. I’ll finally be able to do something to help take the burden off of Dad with this documentary. But…

  Trevor is going to freak.

  Confessional

  “I went to prom over the weekend. It was the first school dance I’ve ever been to. I went with a group of friends.” And my boyfriend, Trevor. “It was amazing. I had such a great time.” I had sex for the first time. “When I got home, I watched a movie with Dad and Maisy.” I wished the entire time that I was back at Trevor’s lake house with him. In bed. “My workouts are running longer and longer in preparation for Nationals, but I think I finally have my tumbling pass near perfect. At least I hope so. I saw the list of names of the girls that I’ll be competing against at Nationals, and it’s a little nerve-wracking. I just hope to do well.” I’m the new girl to them; they have more experience than me. I have something to prove.

  -Twelve-

  “Morning, baby,” Trevor says. I almost jog right past him on my way to first period, trying not to be late. I back up and kiss him quickly. “Did you oversleep?”

  “No, I just lost track of time at gym. Then I had to get back home to make sure Maisy was up…”

  “You take on too much,” he says, pulling me in as we walk together. I try to pick up the pace. I really don’t want to be late, but Trevor is in no hurry. He’s a senior and it’s second semester. He’s got all the time in the world.

  “Not anymore than usual, I guess.”

  “Maybe not. I just wish we could spend more time together,” he says.

  “We spend a lot of time together,” I say.

  “Not really. Not outside of school anymore. Think about it, when was the last time you let me take you to dinner?”

  I shrug.

  “It’s just Nationals are coming up, and I’ve been swamped with homework…”

  “Okay. But will you let me take you out?”

  I smile. I love this new attentiveness, but, when Trevor finds out about the cameras wanting to follow me around now… As quick as I think it, I replace the thought with the look of dad’s look of relief when I was picked for the show. Though he’d never said anything, I know what a big deal it is. How much it will help.

  “Yes. Absolutely. We’ll talk about it at lunch.”

  I slip into the door of Oceanography just as the second bell rings.

  Grant glances up as I slide into my chair. As soon as I see his face, I remember my annoyance from Saturday night. I unpack my binder and book and don’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him, but I can feel him staring at me.

  Mrs. Drez walks down the aisles passing out permission slips for a field trip to the Atlanta Aquarium. Quinn would be happy to know that her assessment of the class’s activities was half true. Instead of sliding mine to me, Grant holds it hostage.

  “Sydney?” he says, holding the paper to his chest.

  He’s going to freaking force me to have to look at him.

  “What?” I ask, reaching for the permission slip. He doesn’t hand it over.

  “Did you have a good time Saturday night?” he asks politely.

  “Did you?” I snap.

  He doesn’t seem affected by my sour tone.

  “Eh,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

  Oh, nice. You stay the night with the most beautiful girl in school and all she garners is an, “eh?” He’s more arrogant than I had thought.

  “I had an incredible time, actually,” I say smugly.

  “What’d you do after prom?” he asks.

  I let out a loud laugh and Mrs. Drez shoots a warning look my direction.

  “What do you think I did?”

  “Um, is this a trick question? I have no idea. I was just trying to make conversation,” he says. Did he seriously not see me at the lake house? Was he really that oblivious when he was with Shayna? I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt since he’s never lied to me before.

  “I went to my boyfriend’s lake house. And you were there, too,” I say flatly.

  He mulls this over for a second.

  “That was your boyfriends place?” His voice holds a twinge of amusement.

  “Yep. And it sure seemed like you were enjoying yourself,” I mumble. “Now, can I have my permission slip?”

  “What?” he asks.

  I shake my head without repeating myself. He looks puzzled as he processes the accusation.

  “No, Sydney, it’s not like that,” he says. “I can totally explain.”

  “I’m sure you can,” I say.

  “Sydney, just listen.”

  “I’m not interested in what happened, Grant. Just answer this for me. Was Shayna to get back at me for not telling you about Trevor?”

  He scoffs.

  “So, what, Trevor was the quid and Shayna was the pro quo? I don’t think so, Syd. Playing games isn’t my style.”

  He slides the permission slip across the table and positions his chair away from mine.

  When I get to English, Quinn is practically foaming at the mouth for details about my night with Trevor. Her round of questioning is unending, but I told her everything. Or, as much as I could without blushing. Or mentioning Grant.

  She and I are so engrossed in our conversation, we don’t notice Mr. Brody standing right next to our desks. My face flushes as I wonder how much of our conversation he had heard, but Quinn just leans back in her chair casually and reaches up to pull her long brown hair back into a ponytail, as if she’s clueless as to why he’s standing here.

  He sets a small, pink slip of paper on each of our desks and walks away with a grunt. Quinn rolls her eyes. Detention doesn’t faze her, but to me, it’s a different story. I have to go tell Sam that I have to miss another workout with Nationals around the corner.

  When the bell rings, I tell Quinn to leave without me so that I can talk with Mr. Brody. I plaster on my best guilty face.

  “Yes, Miss. Pierce?” he says curtly without looking up from his stack of papers. He’s balding badly, but he tries to conceal that fact by parting his existing patch of hair in ways which it was never meant to be parted.

  “I, um…” I stutter. I’ve never been in trouble at school before, so I don’t know how to do this. “I’m so sorry for disrupting class, sir.”

  “And?” he says, briefly glancing up from his grading.

  “And, I have gymnastics every day after school. I really can’t miss. Is there a way that I could do, like, an extra assignment or something rather than detention?”

  “No,” he says categorically.

  “Oh.” My heart sinks.

  “What I will do is schedule it for later in the week so that you can give adequate notice to whomever it is that you report to,” he says.

  I guess I could plan on working out extra this week to make up for what I’d miss later on. He hands me a new detention slip for Friday afternoon.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “So, did you get out of it?” Trevor asks sympathetically as I sit down at our lunch table. Quinn must have already spread the good word.

  “No, he did reschedule it for Friday, though. I’m just going to have to work out extra this week to make up for what I’ll miss,” I sulk.

  Trevor’s mouth contorts into a grimace. I can feel the disappointment
even before he speaks. Quinn and Tess must have clued into the sudden mood change, because they simultaneously get up to throw their lunch trays away.

  “Friday?” he asks.

  “Yes. I’m sorry, I know you wanted to do something that night, and we will. It’ll just have to be after gym. And detention.” I explain.

  “You’re right. It’s no big deal. Can I take you out tonight, then?”

  “I think that can be arranged,” I say, leaning in to him.

  Right now, life can’t get much better.

  Detention aside, that is.

  Confessional

  I hit record and sit on the edge of the overstuffed chair.

  “I have to make this a quick bit tonight, because I have a date!” I affix my best smile, though I’m cringing inside at having to reveal this part of my life. I tug nervously on the simple black linen maxi dress. “I’m not sure where my boyfriend and I are going, it’s going to be a surprise, I think.” I really forgot to ask, and I hope I’m dressed okay. “I don’t know if he’ll be up for it, but I will try to get Trevor to come in and say hi to you all afterward!” That’s a lie. I have to tell him over dinner that this will be our last solo date. He’ll likely go ballistic. I slip my gold flip flops back on and fix my lip gloss.

  -Thirteen—

  Trevor and Dad are already talking sports, though I can’t decipher which one. I can tell you everything you ever want to know about gymnastics, but that’s my limit. I don’t even understand lacrosse, and I’ve been to countless games to support Trevor.

  “Are you ready?” I ask, stuffing my lip gloss and house key into my purse.

  Trevor turns to me with a broad smile. “Yep. Nice talking with you,” he says to Dad, shaking his hand.

  “Was good to see you. You don’t come around enough,” Dad says to Trevor. “By the way, Syd, did you let the crew know where you’re going?”

  My heart lodges itself firmly in my throat. I cough. Or choke.

  “Crew?” Trevor asks, raising his eyebrows.

  “Yeah, I didn’t Dad, I was going to have one more night of freedom,” I smile. Trevor is still staring at me. Questioning me.

  “The camera crew from the show wants to film a few spots of me doing something other than gymnastics,” I say.