The Pick-Up

by Miranda Kenneally

  It’s like getting past the first kiss unlocked all this freedom to be ourselves.

  My brother told me I needed to gain confidence. With her, yes, I feel surer of myself, but it’s something else. Something more. I don’t know if I’d be as confident with anyone else. With her, it’s natural. Easy.

  I pull my phone out from where I’d hidden it under my T-shirt. It’s hard to see the screen in the bright sun, but I find a notification from the radio station doing the Lolla scavenger hunt. The first selfie on the hunt is the Chicago Bean at Millennium Park. I take a quick look at my phone map. While it’s a quick car ride, it would take at least half an hour to walk over there.

  Ethan: Things good with Mari?

  Me: YES

  Ethan: You ask her out?

  Me: She lives in TN…

  Ethan: That sucks.

  Tyler also texts me.

  Tyler: Want to come out on Krysti’s boat?

  Me: I thought you were going to the concert??

  Tyler: Going back later this afternoon. On the boat first.

  Me: Why’d you change your mind?

  Tyler: It’s a boat!

  Me: Can I bring Mari and her sister and friend?

  Tyler: Ok

  My brother texts me instructions on how to get to Chicago Yacht Club, which is south of here, but not far from the concert at Grant Park. And I’m pretty sure Millennium Park is on the way there.

  I look up from my phone. “My brother is seeing this lady. At least, I think he’s dating her. They invited us out on her boat. Do you guys want to come?”

  Mari

  A boat?!

  Okay:

  1. I really want to go on a boat. Seeing people out on the water always makes me hella jealous.

  2. I really want to go on a boat specifically on Lake Michigan, where I will dance and drink and party. Meanwhile, people on shore will look out and be hella jealous of me.

  3. Mom and Dad will ground me until I’m forty if I go on a boat with people they don’t know.

  “Mari, Mom will probably kill me if she finds out I’m on a boat,” Sierra says, reading my mind. “And David will for sure kill you.”

  “You don’t have to go,” I say.

  She gives me a look. “Are you kidding? Of course we’re going. It’s a boat!”

  Everyone seems to throw all their principles out the window when it comes to boats. I give my stepsister a side hug, loving her so much.

  “We have to be careful though,” Sierra says. “No pictures or social media posts, got it?”

  “Got it,” Megan and I reply.

  “That includes you, too, T.J.” Sierra says.

  He lifts an eyebrow. “Me?”

  “Mom’s following you now,” Sierra says. “If you post that you’re on a boat, she’ll know we’re with you.”

  “Why is Leah following T.J.?” I ask.

  Sierra sweeps her hair over one shoulder and plays with it. “Mom saw the #HelpMariFindTJ hashtag I posted.”

  “Shit,” I mutter. “That must mean Dad knows too.”

  Sierra shrugs. “I think they both feel better now that I came to hang out with you guys.”

  Now that I think about it, my phone hasn’t been blowing up recently. Dad stopped the rapid-fire COME HOME NOW texts.

  “And seeing the picture of you two together helped,” Sierra adds. “Mom said that T.J. looks like, and I quote, ‘the sweetest cinnamon roll.’”

  I snort with laughter.

  T.J. blushes and mouths, “Cinnamon roll?”

  While T.J.’s slipping his T-shirt back on over his head and putting his shoes back on, I pull Sierra to the side.

  “Really?” I mutter. “What’s up with you talking to your mom about T.J. being a cinnamon roll?”

  “I told Mom maybe you and T.J. might get together, that’s all.”

  “Sierra, I’m here for a weekend and that’s it. I’m not getting together with him. Not like that.”

  Without waiting for a response from Sierra, I march over to T.J. “How are we getting to the yacht club? Taking another Ryde?”

  “How about we rent bicycles? You like bikes, right?”

  “I do.” Except for when it’s raining or snowing, I ride my bike to school every day. “How’d you know that?”

  He scratches his head, glancing at Sierra. “Uh, just a guess.”

  Has Sierra been telling him things about me? “I don’t think it’s a good idea to ride bikes. Not without helmets.”

  “You’re right,” T.J. replies, ducking his head. He’s sweet.

  Instead of bikes, Megan suggests riding electric scooters along the shoreline. It seems much safer than bikes, since you’re closer to the ground and likely going more slowly.

  But I’ve never ridden a scooter before, and, at first, I’m terrified I’m going to fall off, and a cyclist or a talented runner will smash me into the pavement, but Sierra shows me how to use it. And before I know it, we’re zooming along the shore, the hot wind blowing through my hair. My skin feels sticky with sweat as the sun beats down on us.

  “Wooo!” Sierra screams as her scooter zooms by a runner. Megan rides her coattails. T.J. glances over his shoulder back at me, grinning. God, he’s cute. Sweet. Artistic. Unbelievably nice. How is that boy wrapped up in a single package?

  On the way to the yacht club, T.J. pulls over into Millennium Park to take a selfie in front of the famous Chicago Bean. Before we hopped on our scooters, he told me all about how he wants to win this selfie contest so he can meet his favorite band at Lollapalooza tomorrow. Seems like a long shot, but I love any excuse to visit Millennium Park.

  With an arm wrapped around me, T.J. holds out his phone to snap a selfie of the four of us. He tweets the picture, tagging the WTGP radio station along with the #LollaScavengerHunt hashtag.

  Sierra and I go up closer to the Bean. It shines like a mirror. We pull out our phones, make funny faces, and take pictures of our reflections. Sierra loops a finger through her own Tiffany necklace the shape of the Bean. The real thing is about a thousand times bigger than her charm.

  As I’m staring at my reflection in the Bean, behind me I see two girls approach T.J. He’s far enough away I can’t hear what they’re saying to him, but he smiles and nods in response. One of the girls moves closer to him and leans in, unabashedly flirting. He glances my way before responding to her.

  It bothers me.

  Why is that girl talking to the boy I’ve been kissing today?

  Seeing him smile at someone else makes me want to punch something. Surprising, considering I’ve never been territorial like this, unless we’re talking about food. Nobody hogs the chips and salsa. But worrying about a guy? It’s not something I’ve cared about before.

  Sierra catches me staring at T.J.’s exchange with the random girl. “Do you like him a lot?”

  “I don’t know,” I say honestly. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Don’t you want to try dating somebody?” Sierra asks. “You gotta do it sometime.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Don’t you want to get married?”

  “I’m planning to be a very cool spinster.”

  “Don’t you want kids?”

  I give her a look. She of all people knows you don’t have to be in a relationship to have kids. “I’m seventeen. I’m not thinking about kids.”

  “I don’t want you to be alone.”

  “I’m going to adopt a little army of dachshunds.”

  Her eyes dart in T.J.’s direction. “And what about hooking up or whatever? Aren’t spinsters virgins?”

  “This isn’t the eighteen hundreds.”

  “You’re the one who wants to be a spinster!”

  The thing about high school is that some people think you have to be in a relationship to
have worth, but you can be on your own if you want to. Whether or not you’re with somebody doesn’t determine if you have value.

  “You don’t have to be in a relationship to hook up,” I say. “What you do with your body is your own choice.”

  Sierra steals a deep breath, then swipes her hair behind an ear. She quickly glances at Megan. “I dunno… It seems the physical aspects might be better when there’s a connection, or love.”

  Maybe for you, but I don’t need that. But as I’m watching T.J. speak to another girl, I don’t like it. I don’t want him talking to her or anybody else—not after making out with him this afternoon. I should storm over and plant my flag in front of him.

  But that’s selfish of me. It’s not like he’s mine.

  A vision of our first kiss flashes in my mind, making me weak at the knees. This afternoon I’ve felt close to him, both physically…and emotionally. Closer than I’ve ever felt before. The most surprising thing about it is I felt safe.

  I shake my head. This is a weekend fling and nothing more. Did kissing T.J. take over my ability to think rationally? My pulse rockets out of control.

  “Let’s go take more pictures,” I say to Sierra, to get my mind off these weird feelings I’m having.

  That’s when T.J. sets his chin on my shoulder, and gently wraps his arms around me from behind, embracing me in the warmest hug.

  It’s sexy, but also cozy, so I expect my heartbeat to return to safe and normal.

  But as his lips gently kiss my ear, my heart beats faster and faster and faster.

  T.J.

  Krysti lied to me.

  Her parents don’t own a boat.

  They own a yacht. A fucking sixty-foot yacht.

  “Teej!” Tyler pokes his head over the side of the ship. He’s wearing sunglasses. “Hi ladies, come aboard.”

  Sierra, Megan, and Mari squeal, and begin to climb the ladder and up over the side to the deck. One by one, Tyler stretches out a hand to help them aboard, and more squealing ensues. I make a mental note: Boats make girls go wild.

  I climb up to find a party. Pop music blares from the speakers. I spot Mike and a woman who must be his girlfriend lounging on a vinyl side bench. Several other people are here too. A group of five people is sitting at a table, playing Uno. Krysti is at the bar, mixing drinks.

  For some reason, Tyler is wearing a boat captain’s hat. “I want it,” I tell him.

  “No can do. You’ll have to wear the first mate’s hat.”

  “Is there such a thing?”

  He adjusts his hat. “Hell if I know.”

  “I figured you were already at the concert.”

  He shrugs. “I’ll go tonight.”

  “I’m surprised you came out with Krysti.”

  “Me too. But I’m a sucker for a boat, you know?” He wraps an arm around me and pats my chest with his other hand. “Want something to drink?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  Tyler walks me over to the bar area. Yes, this boat is so big it has a bar. Tyler pulls a canned beer out of a tiny refrigerator for me. Krysti is giving Mari, Sierra, and Megan pink drinks with umbrellas.

  “Thanks, Krysti,” they say.

  “Of course. You two are such a gorgeous couple,” Krysti says to Megan and Sierra, who are leaning against each other like they often seem to do.

  “Oh we’re not together,” Sierra says quickly, and Megan gives her a sad look.

  If you ask me, they’re totally into each other, but neither wants to make a move.

  With drinks in hand, Megan and Sierra step gingerly out onto the bow of the boat, where they lie down and sunbathe.

  Mari comes over to me, sipping her drink through a straw. “Yowza, that’s dangerous. Strong.”

  I drink my beer. “Is it good though?”

  She takes another sip. “Delicious.”

  “It’s my famous strawberry-banana daiquiri,” Krysti replies, looking pointedly at Tyler, who has eyes for nothing except the boat’s steering wheel. Tyler is now sitting in the captain’s chair wearing the captain’s hat. He looks like a little kid, playing with all the buttons.

  Mental note: boats make boys go wild too.

  I pray he doesn’t break the boat.

  Meanwhile, Krysti stares at him like she’d rob a bank if it meant she could have him all to herself.

  If women always look at him like this, then it makes sense why he’s confident. There’s no question she wants him. No way girls have looked at me this way—I’d have noticed. Right?

  Unless I was so nervous I couldn’t get out of my own head.

  Like the time I hung out with Sam at the company picnic and went to the city park after. How was she looking at me? I couldn’t even tell you. I was too busy worrying that I was screwing everything up, that I was saying the wrong thing or doing something stupid with my hands. I never relaxed or acted like myself.

  Tyler’s right. I need to be more self-assured. Stop worrying. Pay attention to what’s happening around me.

  So I do it. I look up at Mari.

  With her lips wrapped around her straw, she’s staring straight at me as she sips. Her gaze sends shivers across my skin. Shit, I wish I were that straw.

  I put out my hand, inviting her to sit with me at the stern on a vinyl bench. It’s so hot, the vinyl sears my skin, but after a few moments I start to get used to the heat. I stretch an arm around Mari and she cozies up next to me, her head resting comfortably against my shoulder. I like the way her dark curls cascade down my arm.

  We listen to the music and take frequent sips of our drinks. Out here on the blue water, with a beautiful girl at my side, I can’t help but think that this is what life’s all about.

  I gaze down at her. She looks up at me. And I know we’re thinking the same thing.

  Our heads move toward each other. Our mouths meet for slow, dizzying kisses. Our lips were made for this.

  My blood is on fire.

  “Want to take a tour of the boat?” she whispers.

  I glance around to see what’s going on. Sierra and Megan are still sunbathing together out on the bow. Tyler and Krysti are dozing in the captain’s chair together. Everyone else is either asleep or way too into the card game to notice us.

  We climb down the stairs to the lower deck. It’s carpeted, with soft lighting. The walls are shiny wood paneling. We peek around, being nosy. There’s a full galley kitchen and a circular dining booth that seats four or five people. She opens a door, which turns out to be to a bedroom. I raise my eyebrows at her.

  Before I know it, she pulls me through the threshold into the bedroom, then turns and shuts the door. Her fingers swiftly lock it.

  My heart explodes with excitement. Sweat breaks out on my neck. She turns, our eyes meet, and she takes a deep, shaky breath.

  She walks around the tiny room, checking out the blue bedspread, old-fashioned lantern, and framed artwork of sailboats. “This is nice.”

  “Uh, yeah,” I reply, because those are the only words I’m capable of at the moment.

  I’m in a bedroom with a girl.

  I’m surprised I can even speak at all. My throat closes up. I can barely breathe my pulse is racing so fast. It’s so fast I can’t see anything. The only thing that can bring relief is her.

  Her, her, her.

  After she finishes checking out the room, she turns back to me with fire in her eyes. She reaches up to push my hair to the side. Her fingers sweep across my cheek and stay there, as she gets up on tiptoes and presses her mouth to mine.

  Then our hands are everywhere. I wrap mine around her waist and pull her to me, bending down to press my lips to her warm neck.

  Our lips meet again and again, but her cute glasses are in the way as usual. She takes them off, folding them carefully and setting them aside before reaching for me again, pulling me
to her mouth.

  She breaks the kiss and laughs when I whine, but I stop my protest once I see she’s lifting her top over her head. Next she reaches for my hem and then my shirt’s on the floor. For a second I worry we shouldn’t be doing this in somebody else’s bedroom, but when our skin presses together, my thoughts are lost. Our mouths meet again for slow, hot kisses so intense they might catch fire and sink the boat.

  My fingers find their way to the button of her shorts. “May I?”

  She quickly nods and says, “Yes. Yes, definitely.”

  She leans back against the small side table and shakes out her hair. God, she’s sexy. My trembling hands unbutton her shorts and ease them down, revealing the pink bikini bottoms from earlier. I struggle to control my breathing. I’m gasping for air. Her hands grip the table as she kicks her shorts off, starting a fire within me.

  I might die at the sight of her body leaning against that table. My obituary will read: Cause of death: one pink bikini.

  Above deck, music blares, the bass thumping a fast rhythm. I gasp over and over like I’ve been doing sprints. We begin to kiss again as I pull her backward toward the bed and onto my lap. I’m completely turned on. Hard as a rock. I worry my arousal will scare her, but she watches my face and runs her hands through my hair.

  And I’m lost.

  Mari

  Is this a dream?

  He knows what he’s doing with his hands.

  He knows what he’s doing with everything.

  It’s like he can’t get enough of me.

  I can barely think right now, but I’m aware enough to know my body’s here and my brain’s gone. There’s no worries at all. Just having fun and wanting more. I want, want, want.

  Since he asked me before taking off my shorts, I ask him, too, and he responds by cupping my face in his hand and kissing me.

  Once his shorts are gone, and I’m in his lap, my fingers glide over his strong chest. The results from the gym are spectacular. He pushes my bikini strap to the side, letting it fall. I weave my fingers in his hair, making him moan.