Poemsia

by Lang Leav

  I stopped and waved. “Hello, Georgie!” He answered me with a sharp hiss, then skittered out of view, sending other books tumbling down the stairs.

  Marcia put her arm around Sash’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m making your favorite—Bolognese. Stella’s home. She’s a bit down in the dumps since Charlie called it quits for the hundredth time. He needs space to finish his novel—yes, it’s the same one he started back in his senior year.” She rolled her eyes at Sash and turned to me. “Stella’s my roommate, and Charlie’s her good-for-nothing boyfriend. He lives in a trailer.”

  “Who is it, Mar?” a voice called.

  A girl who was a dead ringer for Venus in Botticelli’s painting appeared. She looked so ethereal I wanted to ask Marcia and Sash whether they could see her, too. She was deftly shuffling a deck of cards, but she threw her head back, sending fiery locks over her shoulders, and her wide, generous lips curved into a smile.

  “Bashi!” she exclaimed. I assumed it was her nickname for Sash. She pinched his cheek.

  “Ouch,” I heard him whisper under his breath.

  “Verity, meet Stella,” said Marcia.

  Stella grinned. “Hey, Verity. So you do exist! You owe me ten bucks, Marcia.”

  Sash raised his eyebrows. “You guys were betting on this, seriously?”

  They nodded in unison.

  “Your mum and dad are in on it too,” Stella said.

  Sash rolled his eyes.

  “Aside from Penelope, you’re the first girl he’s introduced to the family,” Marcia explained.

  I looked at Sash, wide-eyed. “I am?”

  “How adorable is she?” Stella declared. She made a move to pinch my cheek when Marcia tugged urgently at my arm. “Come with me, Verity; I need your help in the kitchen.”

  Stella plunked herself down on the couch with a satisfied sigh. She patted the seat next to her, eyes locking on Sash. “Come and tell me all about this gorgeous new girl of yours.”

  In the kitchen, Marcia got me to help her with the salad. I cut up the tomatoes while she grated a wedge of pecorino cheese. “Sash loves this stuff.”

  “He is crazy about cheese.”

  She laughed. “It’s his Achilles’ heel.”

  I leaned in and gave her a conspiratorial wink. “What else have you got on him?”

  “He doesn’t like soda water because of how the bubbles tickle his nose. He won’t wear socks that go past his ankles—he calls them ‘clown socks.’”

  I grinned. “This is good stuff! Tell me more.”

  “He’s seen Titanic fifteen times.”

  “No!”

  “I’m not kidding. There was a period where we used to tease him mercilessly by calling him Jack.”

  I clapped a hand over my mouth, giggling.

  “I should probably stop sharing these embarrassing stories.” She looked a little guilty as she sprinkled parsley over the bubbling pot. The aroma was tantalizing, and it filled the tiny kitchen with a warm, homey ambience.

  “Well, Sash knows practically every embarrassing story about me, thanks to my friend Jess. Who can blame me for trying to even the score?”

  In the short time they’d known each other, Sash and Jess had developed quite a bond, mainly thanks to the jokes they often made at my expense.

  Marcia grinned. “Fair enough.”

  “Hey, isn’t it weird how Sash mispronounces certain words?”

  “You mean like, ‘everythink’?”

  “Yes! And how he blesses himself when he sneezes?”

  We burst into a fit of giggles.

  “I’m glad you appreciate what a dork he is. I’m not sure Penny was as keen on that side of him. Oops—sorry, Verity! I didn’t mean to bring up his ex like that. How insensitive of me.”

  I waved my hand at her. “Don’t worry—I don’t mind at all. I know how important she is to Sash, and I’m OK with that.”

  “You’re really kind. I think he still feels protective about her. Penny’s parents weren’t around much when she was growing up, and that’s why she spent so much time with us. She was always being bounced between nannies, so Mum and Dad practically adopted her. You haven’t met them yet, have you?”

  I shook my head, sliding the chopped tomatoes into the salad bowl. “I will next week at your dad’s birthday party.”

  “Oh, that’s right! Gosh, is that next week already? I have no idea where the time has gone.”

  “Do I have anything to worry about?”

  “Nah, Mum and Dad are chill. Dad’s in construction, and Mum does a lot of charity stuff. She heads a big antidrug organization.” I heard the note of pride in her voice.

  “That’s good to know, but I’m still nervous as hell.”

  She put her hand on my shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. “You’ll be OK.”

  “Will Penelope be there?”

  “Most likely,” said Marcia. “Penny does a lot of charity work with Mum.” She must have caught the look on my face because she said, “I know the two of you don’t exactly get on. Sash told me about your dinner at Mechanical Mango.”

  “Yes, things got a bit heated between her and my best friend, Jess. Penelope ended up storming out. Over poetry, no less.”

  “Yikes, I know how touchy Penny can be about that! It must be a shock for her, seeing Sash with someone new, especially since you just so happen to be a poet! Just give her some time. I’m sure she’ll come around.”

  She saw the doubtful look on my face and smiled.

  “I know you don’t believe me, but Penny does have a sweet side. She’s got a trust fund bigger than Ben Hur, but she doesn’t rest on her laurels. She does a lot of charity work—and I don’t mean writing a check like most people in her position would. You’ll find Penny cleaning out the litter trays at the local rescue or at a soup kitchen, ladle in hand. If you were cynical, you’d think she was doing it to score points. But I know for a fact that underneath the tough-girl act, Penny has a heart of gold. Mind you, it still doesn’t excuse her behavior, but Sash has always been a sore spot for her. And I guess you have it worse because this is probably the most serious he’s ever been about a girl.” She turned off the stove and drained the pasta.

  “Really?”

  “Oops! I’ve said too much again,” she grinned. “Now, looks like we’re all set. Let’s go and rescue Sash from my nutty roomie.”

  Sash was setting the table when I brought in the bowl of salad. I plonked it down, bumping my hip into his. He tucked his hand into the back pocket of my jeans. Stella approached with the deck of cards in her hands. On closer inspection, I could see they were tarot cards. She was doing some pretty cool moves, like a blackjack dealer.

  Marcia set down the pasta. “Um, can’t this wait until after dinner?” She nodded at the cards. Stella grinned, her eyes full of mischief. “It’ll only take a second.”

  I gave Sash a questioning look.

  “Stella’s a fortune teller,” he explained. “I was telling her the story of how we met, and she wants to do a reading for you.”

  “I’d love that! I’ve never had my fortune read before.”

  We sat on opposite sides of the table, and Stella kept shuffling the cards with amazing dexterity. She passed them to me. “Your turn, sweets.” I worked them clumsily, one card, slipping free and falling to my feet. I made a grab for it, but she shook her head. “Leave it.”

  Then she arranged the cards on the table, and we all fell silent as we watched. “Well, well. Interesting . . .” She looked me in the eye. “I’m going to tell you three things. The first is something from your past, the second your present, the third your future.”

  I felt goose bumps all along my arms. I held my breath.

  To my surprise, she burst out laughing. “Tell us about the boy on the bus.”

  Right away I knew what she
was talking about and groaned. “Never.”

  “Oh, come on, Wolf.” Sash nudged me with his elbow.

  I shook my head, resolutely.

  “Go on,” said Marcia. “Now I really want to know.”

  I tried to weasel my way out, but I could see they weren’t going to give up. “Back in the ninth grade, I had a major crush on a guy. He caught the same school bus as me, but I never plucked up the courage to speak to him. One day, I was gazing at him when he turned unexpectedly and caught me staring. My jaw dropped, which was bad enough. To make it worse, the gum I’d been chewing fell out of my mouth.”

  “No!” Marcia giggled.

  “Word got around school, and for the rest of that year, I was gum girl.”

  “Can’t believe I’m going out with gum girl,” Sash grinned.

  I swatted at him. “How could you have possibly known about that?” I asked Stella.

  She shrugged. “A magician never reveals her tricks.”

  “I still can’t figure out how she does it,” said Marcia.

  “I was terrified of her when I was a kid. She could always tell if I was lying,” said Sash.

  “Like the time you ate an entire packet of jelly beans and blamed it on your imaginary friend,” Marcia joked.

  “You had an imaginary friend, too?” I asked, delighted.

  “Pipslet,” Marcia and Stella said in unison.

  “Pipslet?”

  Sash groaned. “Guys, please. Verity doesn’t need to know all this stuff.”

  “Mine was Posey Darling, but she left around the time I met Jess.”

  “Do you think that was a coincidence?” Sash teased.

  “Pipslet and Posey,” said Marcia, eyes twinkling. “Even your imaginary friends sound like they belong together.”

  “Now for the present.” Stella’s expression was suddenly serious. We all fell silent. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, they were looking straight into mine. “They are here with you. They’ve always been with you, and they love you, Verity— so much.”

  All of a sudden, I was crying, tears welling up so fast I couldn’t hold them back.

  “Hey.” Sash put his arm around my shoulder.

  “Stella, you’re upsetting her!” Marcia cried.

  “No, it’s OK,” I sobbed. “You’re talking about my parents, aren’t you?”

  She nodded, her eyes moist and glistening. “I can feel their presence, even in this room. They’re so proud of you, babe—of everything you’ve achieved and, most of all, the young lady you’ve become.”

  I nodded as Sash passed me a silk handkerchief monogrammed with his initials. I did a double take. “What the hell is this?” I started laughing.

  He grinned. “Creature of habit.”

  “A bit of a fancy boy, isn’t he?” Stella whispered to me.

  This made me laugh even harder. “I’m keeping this for luck,” I said to Sash, tucking it into my pocket.

  “Stella, the food’s getting cold.”

  Stella waved Marcia off. “We’re almost done.” She reached across the table and took both my hands in hers. “Now for the future.”

  I took a deep breath, steeling myself.

  “Oh,” she breathed, “sweetie, you are destined for great things. I can see you surrounded by people who love you. Crowds and crowds of people. Your wish will come true, but it will come at a cost.”

  At those words, a charge swept through my body. I shivered.

  “What does that mean?” I asked in a hushed voice.

  “She’s being overly dramatic, Verity. It’s just theatrics, that’s all. Now, I think that’s enough for tonight. Stella, why don’t we pack away the cards?”

  Stella still had my hands in hers, and she gave them a quick squeeze before letting go. “Marcia’s right. Don’t let it worry you.” But there was an unsettling glint in her eyes.

  Marcia set down four wine glasses and opened up a bottle of Pinot.

  “How about a toast?” she said, looking from me to Sash, her eyes shining. “Here’s to those who wish us well, and all the rest can go to hell!”

  After we left Marcia’s, Sash took me home. As he pulled up into the alley beside the store, I saw the hallway light Pop always left on for me, and a lump rose in my throat.

  “You were a hit with the girls tonight.”

  “Your sister is so cool, and Stella, well, Stella is amazing! It was freaky when she brought up my parents.”

  “Do you still remember them?”

  “Just flashes here and there. The images are fuzzy at best. Sometimes when I look at old photographs, it’s as though I’m staring at two strangers. But the feelings haven’t changed at all. I remember the warmth of my mother’s arms and my dad’s scratchy beard against my cheek. Little things like that. With Nan, it’s different because I can remember whole conversations. I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

  “I’m so sad you had to go through all that. No one should have that much tragedy so early on.”

  I smiled to reassure him. “I’ve had some really great things too.”

  We were silent for a while.

  “Sash, do you think your parents will like me?”

  “Of course. How could anyone possibly not like you?”

  “Um, have you met this girl named Penelope?”

  “Who?”

  I punched him lightly on the arm.

  “Look,” he said, “you’ve already met Marcia, and she likes you. My parents are cool. I’m cool, too. We’re all cool. So the only one you’ll have to charm is our dog, Little Lord Fauntleroy. We call him Fonty, or Monty, or Fontman—”

  “OK, I get the picture.”

  “It won’t be easy. He’s the crankiest Chihuahua known to man, but in time he’ll grow to love you as much as I do.”

  My mouth fell open. We’d never said that word before. “Sash. Did you just . . . did you just say you love me?”

  He bit his lip and grinned. “Ah, man. I was trying to keep that a secret for now.”

  “Why?”

  “I was planning on telling you at the airport, literally the second you were about to leave. I thought it would be more poignant. Since you’re a poet, I thought that would impress you.”

  “Aw, Sash. That’s sweet, but you can impress me in other ways.”

  “Such as?”

  “You know the other day when you ate two sandwiches at the same time?’”

  “A double-decker sandwich counts as one sandwich.”

  “Whatever that monstrosity was, I sure was impressed with how well you handled it.”

  “I could probably do three at once—”

  I put my finger on his lips. “Shhhh.”

  He mumbled something incoherent.

  “I love you, too, you know.”

  “I kind of suspected.”

  We held each other tightly, and I felt that warm, tingly sensation all over. Regretfully, I glanced at the clock on the dash and sighed. “It’s late; I’d better go in. I don’t want Pop worrying.” I leaned in for one last kiss.

  He took my hand. “Do you think we could stay here just a little while longer?”

  We climbed into the back seat and were barely settled when his lips were suddenly on mine. I shivered as his hands moved under my sweater and into my bra.

  We were breathing hard, our kisses switching from slow and lingering to frenzied and rough. His tongue traced the line of my collarbone, and I was losing it. I felt hot and sticky, like I was melting.

  I’m not sure how we got our clothes off, wrapped in each other as we were, but somehow we managed. I felt a little self-conscious when he ran his eyes over my body. “You’re beautiful, Wolf,” he murmured.

  His body was lean and muscular, arms taut like a swimmer’s. I felt squishy in com
parison.

  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Without breaking eye contact, I climbed onto his lap, wrapping my legs around his hips.

  “Are we really doing this, Wolf?”

  I nodded, cupping his face in my hands. “Put your hands on me, Jack.”

  He rolled his eyes skyward. “Is there nothing sacred?”

  “You watched Titanic fifteen times. I’m impressed.”

  “Want to make it sixteen tomorrow?” he teased.

  My eyes held his. “As many times as you want.”

  “Mmm,” he kissed me warmly, “you drive me crazy, you know.”

  I moved my hips against his in response, and he let out a sigh.

  “Have you got protection on you?”

  His grin was lopsided. “I’ve had one on standby—you know, just in case.”

  And then it was happening. His hands gripped the small of my back, pulling me in, hard against him. It felt exquisite with him inside me. As we rocked, skin on skin, my back arched against his palm. I whispered things I’d never said to anyone else before, held on to him like I was drowning. Condensation fogged the windows and ran in rivulets down the glass. The sounds coming from the street outside felt as if they were a world away. This wasn’t how I imagined it would be, but it was perfect, and when it was over, I already was thinking about the next time.

  “Why do you have that look on your face?” Jess squinted at me from across our table at Last Chance.

  “What look?”

  “Like you got lucky.”

  A grin broke across my face. “That’s because I did!”

  She clapped her hands together with obvious glee. “Where did this momentous occasion take place?”

  I had discussed the big moment with Jess before, and of course, geography was a factor. Sash still lived at his parents’ house, which made it tricky. And Pop hardly went out these days, so there weren’t a lot of options on the table.

  “We did it in his car.”

  “That’s original—especially for you,” Jess teased. She was referring to my first and only other sexual encounter. Guy was my prom date, and it happened in his parents’ Range Rover, in an empty parking lot. Halfway through, we were interrupted by a female police officer who proceeded to give us a lecture on safe sex.