by M. W. Muse
his hand. He didn't stop. He kept moving it back and forth. It felt hot against my leg, like he burned to touch me, and touching my leg was the only relief his hand would get.
I knew I was still stroking the side of his leg, so I glanced down at his lap. To my surprise, I noticed my hand was no longer visible on his leg. Without the confines of tight clothing and because of the relaxed angle I was now in, I hadn't realized how far it had slid up his leg and under his shorts. My eyes shot up to his face, and he was no longer controlling his expression. His eyes were on fire.
Don stopped the car and looked at me. I felt like the heat of my face was radiating off me. My ears burned and throbbed. He stared at me intently for several seconds, breathing so hard that I could smell his sweet breath as it brushed against my face.
I wanted him to kiss me, and I wondered if he thought about it. He hadn't kissed me yet. Well, not on the lips at least, and I hoped that was about to change.
I realized I was still stroking his leg and needed to stop. But Don's intense gaze was making it very difficult for me to think clearly. I grasped the side of his leg to keep my fingers from moving. His breath caught, and his eyes shut. When he finally exhaled, he spoke.
"Season, we should probably go inside."
"What?" I turned to look out the windshield. I was so caught up in the moment that I hadn't realized we'd made it to his house already. "Oh. Okay."
I pulled my hand away from him, and he took his off my leg to cut the engine. I got out, not waiting for him to open my door. I needed the fresh air, hoping it would clear my head and allow me to collect myself. I stretched and took in a few deep breaths while he took his time coming over to my side. I figured he was trying to get himself together, too.
When he got to my side, he didn't even comment about me opening my own door. He just shut it, put his arm around me, and led me to the house.
We stopped at the front door, and I turned to him.
"How do I look?" I asked breathlessly. I still hadn't pulled myself together. "Like an angel," he whispered, closing his eyes. Great, he hadn't pulled himself
together, either.
There was no point in putting this off. Don turned the knob and stepped in, holding it open for me. I walked in and could smell food cooking in the kitchen.
"Mom?" Don called out; his voice cracked. He grimaced, then cleared his throat. "In here, honey."
We met up with her in the kitchen. She wiped her hands on an apron and shook my hand. Don made the formal introductions, and when I tried to call her Ms. Smith, she insisted I call her Myrha. She was as sweet as I remembered her. When I offered to help, she declined and ushered us out of the kitchen.
Don and I sat in the living room, our sides and bare legs touching. He turned on the television as a distraction, and I turned to face him.
"Does your mom know I've been here before?" I whispered. He nodded.
"How does she feel about that? That you brought a girl over when she wasn't home?"
"She doesn't care. I explained to her what happened." Then he put his lips to my ear. "Technically, I'm an adult now, so what could she say about it?" He chuckled, and his hot breath tickled my skin, causing a slight shiver to shoot through me. He didn't turn away, and I could tell from the increased speed of his breath that his teasing tone was gone. "You smell so good," he whispered, not making a move to turn his head away.
I figured I should joke with him, rather than let myself fall completely into this moment like I'd done in the car. His mom could walk in at any time.
I turned to face Don, his face just inches from mine. "Do you want me to put my hand on your leg again?" I dared, raising one eyebrow.
He sighed. "Maybe right now isn't the best time for that." "Then, quit whispering in my ear."
"Am I making you uneasy?" he teased.
"Yes. So if you don't stop, I'm going to find great pleasure in making you squirm.
We both know I can handle you touching me," I said, putting my hand on my chest, "more than you can handle me touching you." I moved it to his chest.
"Hmm . . . I don't know if I agree with that completely." Don lifted his hand and stroked my cheek.
It felt wonderful, but I knew what he was doing, and I wasn't falling for it. I stared at him with an even expression. I was up to this challenge.
I slid my hand up from his chest, along his neck, and to his left ear. I smiled at him as I stroked the shell gently between my fingers. His eyes fluttered shut and his head leaned back a little.
"That's . . . not . . . fair," he whispered through quick breaths.
Don's eyes were still shut, so as I caressed his left ear, I leaned against his cheek, putting my lips at his other ear. "I know." I dragged out the last word, my breath blowing into his ear.
He groaned.
"Are you going to behave?" I asked very slowly, still breathing the words into his
ear.
He nodded and tried to say, "Yes," but the word didn't completely come out. I moved, resting my lips on his ear. "That's a very good boy." I traced my lips
down and kissed his earlobe.
He gasped, suddenly taking my face into his hands, and pushed me away, staring into my eyes.
I looked at him with raised eyebrows, waiting for him to say something. "Okay. You're right. You can handle me touching you better than I can handle
you touching me."
"See, I told you." I laughed.
He dropped his hands from my face and took one of my hands into both of his.
"Yes, but I'm not touching you the way you're touching me. We're supposed to be taking things slowly, so what you're doing really isn't fair." He chuckled.
"Maybe that's true, but maybe I don't want to take things as slowly as we have
been."
It was true. We had gone out several times, and Don hadn't tried to kiss me once.
Not where it counted, anyway. And I wanted him to kiss me already. What was his hold up?
He stopped laughing and stared at me with intense eyes, then licked his lips, looking at my mouth. My senses went on alert. He was going to do it!
"Lunch is ready," Don's mom called out.
I flinched, and he glanced in the direction of her voice, releasing me from his gaze. He got up and escorted me to the kitchen.
"What have you kids been doing?" Myrha asked as Don pulled out a chair for
me.
I watched at him as I sat down. I didn't want to answer that question. What was I
going to say? Oh, I've been teasing your son in inappropriate ways. Not! "We were watching TV," he said smoothly.
"Anything interesting?"
"Not on TV." He sat down, his eyes flashing to mine to make sure I caught the real meaning of his answer. I blushed.
We all ate, but it was difficult to eat my lunch quickly. Most of the conversation was centered on me with Myrha asking open-ended questions that required long answers. A few times, I caught Don giving his mom an exasperated look. He was pacing himself so that he didn't finish his meal before I could. Even though that was such a little thing, it still made me smile.
I continued answering questions while we cleared the table. It was really easy talking to Myrha, but the last question she asked me threw me for a loop.
"Did Don tell you his dad's moving to Texas?"
Shocked, I snapped my gaze to Don. But he didn't look at me; he stared at his mom through narrowed eyes.
"Um, no, he hasn't mentioned it yet," I said, trying to keep my voice even. Why was she telling me this?
"I was going to talk to her about it tonight," Don muttered. "Oh, I'm sorry." But she was looking at me, not Don.
What could I say? For some reason, I felt that this topic was very deliberate, and I didn't want to think of the reason why. I continued clearing the table, hoping she didn't read the fear in my eyes.
But Don did.
He walked over to, staring at his mom. "Will you excuse us?" It sounded like he was trying h
ard to be polite.
He turned my shoulders, pushing me forward since my legs didn't want to work.
He helped me through the kitchen and up the stairs, knowing exactly where we were headed. Yet when he eased me down on his bed, I was too shocked to feel nervous about being in his room. He sat beside me and took both my hands into his.
"Season," he said softly. "I'm really sorry about that. I really did plan on talking to you about this tonight."
I just nodded, staring past him at his wall. I felt the moisture in my eyes and didn't even care if the tears spilled over.
"Sweetheart, look at me, please."
I was not too shocked to get butterflies in my stomach at his term of endearment.
I shut my eyes to find the strength to force my gaze to his. Tears leaked over before I opened them.
He brushed my tears away. "My dad got offered a promotion if he transferred. Now that I'm eighteen, there really isn't a need for him to live in the same town as my mom."
I just stared at him, unsure if I could talk without breaking down. What he said made sense, but something just didn't feel right.
"He called me last night. He wants me to go over for a couple days while he looks at houses. I'm leaving in the morning but will be back Thursday night."
"Why . . ." My voice cracked. I looked down and cleared my throat, leaving my eyes on our hands. "Why did your mom bring it up?"
He sighed. "Because my dad wants me to go to school out there."
My head snapped up, and I stared at Don with pleading eyes, shaking my head. I felt like someone had just punched me in the stomach.
He released one of his hands and held my face. "That's why I've decided to go tomorrow. I need to explain to him why I want to stay here, and I need to do that in person."
I took a jagged breath. "But he thinks you're going out there to help pick out a house because you'll be living with him."
"He knows I want to stay here, but I'm sure he's hoping I'll change my mind. He's already registered me for the fall term—just in case."
"But you're staying here, right?"
"Yes. I don't want to leave. I want to stay here. With you."
I nodded and leaned my head against his shoulder, feeling exhausted, the stress almost too much to bear. He put his arms around me and squeezed tightly.
"So you'll be back by Friday, then?" "Yes."
"That's the Fourth of July."
"I know," he said, rubbing my back.
I remembered telling Chloe I didn't want to ask Don to the parade, but after this, those silly fears disappeared. "Chloe is in the parade, so she asked me to come watch her and then hang out. She'll have a date, though, so she suggested I ask you to come with me."
"I'd love to go to the parade with you." "Good," I breathed into his chest.
"In fact, I'm having a pool party over here on Saturday. I'd like for you to come."
"That sounds like fun."
He held me for several more minutes, comforting me. "Are you okay?" "I think so." Though I wasn't really sure.
We spent the rest of the day enjoying each other's company. Myrha left to do some shopping, so Don and I had the house to ourselves. It was too hot to really do anything outside, so we got comfy on the couch and watched some movies. Don propped his feet on the coffee table; I had mine on the couch beside me. I snuggled into his side, resting my hand on his leg. He put his arm around my shoulders and put his other hand on my knee. He was touching my bare skin, but it didn't faze him, not visually anyway.
I loved spending time with him, and as this day came to an end, I knew my feelings for Don were solidified.
I was in love with him.
Chapter 13
It was raining when I woke up, making my already somber mood that much more pathetic. Don had just left, and I already missed him like crazy. He wouldn't return until Thursday but would be getting in really late, too late to come over. I wouldn't see him again until the morning of the parade.
And the rain just made the day feel dreary. I guessed Ms. Gorge wasn't looking forward to me working today. That was fine with me. I didn't feel like being in a good mood anyway.
While I got ready for work, I wondered if Don's dad would pressure him into moving out there. Thinking about that only made me more miserable, so I tried not to think about it . . . much.
At work, the dreariness continued. Tracy was cranky. Chrys was busy running errands, so I figured Ms. Gorge intentionally kept him out of the store since I was
working. When he was there, though, his mood was also sad, but I was so wrapped up in my own gloomy feelings that I didn't really think about why he was moping.
When Ms. Gorge announced she was running to the bank, she seemed pleasant.
If I didn't know better, I wouldn't think there was anything wrong with her.
I saw Chrys walk in and over to Tracy. I heard their conversation, but I wasn't paying attention. I busied myself organizing the magazines on the display rack for the hundredth time today, lost in my thoughts of Don. I was so absorbed that I didn't hear Chrys walk up behind me.
"Season, can I talk to you?"
I turned around to face him. "Sure."
After we walked into the break room, he turned to face me. "What's wrong? I can tell something's bothering you."
I knew I appeared sad, but I really didn't want to tell him why. He was sad already and hearing me talk about Don would probably make that worse. "I'll tell you why I'm sad if you tell me what's wrong with you, first," I hedged.
"I can't do that." "Why?"
"Because I promised to keep this on a friendship level." "What does that mean?" I asked as I folded my arms.
"It means that I'm sad for reasons you don't want to hear about."
Well, I was already in a mood, so that just irritated me. Now, I really didn't care if he knew the reason why I was sad.
"Fine," I snapped. "I'm sad because Don is out of town, and I miss him."
Chrys flinched and grabbed the back of the chair he was standing behind to brace himself. He then took a deep breath and looked at me calmly.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I could tell he didn't want to know. He only asked because he was concerned about me, so I started to feel guilty for hurting his feelings.
"Not really." I sat in the chair beside me.
"Are you sure? You know you can talk to me about anything." He sat down, too. "And if we're friends, you should be able to talk to me, too." I leaned toward him,
and he sighed as he ran his hand through his dark hair..
"Okay, if I tell you what's bothering me, will you promise to talk to me about your sad feelings?"
I nodded.
"I-I'm . . ." Chrys paused and looked down at the table. "I'm sad because you're sad. I heard you come in, and I could tell from your tone that you were upset. I knew my mom planned on keeping me out of the store, so I wouldn't get a chance to talk to you. Not being able to console you made me feel even worse."
At least he was honest. Now, it was my turn.
"Don's dad is moving to Texas, and he wants Don to go to school out there. Don's visiting him now."
"When will he be back?" "Tomorrow night."
I could see the curiosity building in his eyes. "Is he . . . um . . . Where is Don going to school?"
"He's going to school here," I said, looking Chrys straight in the eyes. "But his dad registered him out there, too."
"Do you think his dad will persuade him?"
"No." But for some reason, my voice didn't sound as sure as I was. "I see."
"I just miss him; that's all."
"I understand. It's hard going a couple of days without seeing that special someone," he murmured, and I knew he wasn't talking about me not seeing Don.
I stood up. "I should get back to work."
"No. Wait," Chrys said as he got out of his chair and grabbed my arm. I turned around to face him. "What?"
He stared at me without saying anything, and I heard his breathin
g accelerate.
"I can't do this right now."
He dropped my arm. "I'm sorry. I'm trying. It may not seem like that to you, but really, I am. I'll get better at this. I promise."
"I'm sorry this is so difficult for you. I really do like you being my friend." "You don't know how much that means to me," Chrys whispered.
"I need to get back in the lobby before your mom gets here." I just needed to escape.
He nodded. "Let me give you my cell number. My mom is going to make it really difficult for us to have any time alone up here, and I want you to be able to reach me if you ever need to talk."
After getting his number, I worked the rest of my shift and went home. I went to bed as soon as I could without it being too obvious I was a little depressed.
That night I had another dream. It had some of the same characteristics as previous ones, but when the storm started brewing, I didn't run. I stood under the storm clouds, waiting for the tornado to form. I wasn't scared of it. I wanted it to come. I needed it to come.
I saw the same girl as before, but she was across the field. She watched me in horror as I stood under the storm clouds. She started to run toward me, and I turned to face her. I extended my arm in her direction with my palm out.
"No." I didn't yell; I said it calmly but with finality.
She rocked back on her heels, my order stopping her in her tracks.
I knew I was dreaming, and I knew I wanted to ask her questions the next time I dreamed about her, but in this moment, it didn't matter. I didn't need her answers because I was aware of all the answers. My conscious self didn't know, but my mind knew.
I gazed at the clouds waiting for the tornado to form, and the girl screamed. "You have to run! It's coming for you!"
"No!" I yelled so forcefully that the ground shook below my feet. My gaze shot up to the sky, and I yelled, "No!" again.
The black storm clouds faded to light gray and parted, forming a circle of beautiful blue sky. A voice—a female voice—spoke.
"You have no choice." It was so soothing that it felt like a trap. "Who are you?" I demanded.
"I'm everything. I'm everywhere. You can't stop me. You have no choice." Then the storm clouds went furiously black again, and I woke up.
