The Tomboy & the Rebel

by Leeann M. Shane

My mouth fell open and I tried to breathe, hyperventilating on his bedroom floor as I took in every inch of his secret.

  Me.

  “It means I’m in love with you!”

  His love was everywhere. There wasn’t a dust mote in sight.

  And suddenly I felt it. The warmth in my chest, the burning in my heart—I loved Darren Moore.

  He filled my empty parts. Held my hand when I was falling apart. Showed me the stars when my sky was starless. Made me laugh when nothing was funny. Gave me hope when every single part of my life fell apart.

  He gave me a chance to fall and know that he would catch me.

  I didn’t blame him for being afraid. For pushing me away. Love that strong had its own kind of fears. Now I was just as afraid. To let another person in with hopes that they wouldn’t crush me.

  I heard a groan behind me and froze, the picture still clutched in my sweaty grip.

  I peered over my shoulder to find him rubbing his eyes. He sat up and put his face in his hands. He didn’t know I was there yet. I could crawl out of the room.

  Instead I remained still, watching him wake himself up. He looked tired and his eyes were still red.

  He dropped his hands and his eyes fell on me. They widened, and horror settled in them so deeply I started to cry for him.

  “What are you doing in here, Mel?” he shouted, jumping to his feet.

  I jabbed a finger at him, the picture crumpling in my fist.

  “Mel!” he screamed, as his secret exploded. “No. Not like this. Not yet. Not right now,” he cried, falling to his knees.

  I crawled to him and wrapped my arms around him. I sat in his lap and breathed in the scent of sweat and him on his skin. His arms hung limp at his sides. His heavy breathing fanned down my back. Terror clung to his pores, to his muscles; he was so hard it hurt to hold him. But I would. Hold him as hard as I could.

  I put my mouth over his ear. He needed to know how I felt. Needed to know I wasn’t afraid of his feelings. “Please hug me back.”

  His body sagged. His arms came around me in a stronghold, gripping me until breathing was impossible. “Why aren’t you running?” he asked. “Why aren’t you screaming bloody murder and running for your life?”

  I kissed his neck, and I kissed him there again. “Why would I run?”

  “Because now you know.”

  “Know what?”

  “That I’m a sick, obsessed loser.”

  His pulse pounded against my lips. “Not sick.” I slid my tongue over his neck and a groan emanated from his chest. “Obsessed? Maybe. Definitely. You’re totally insane,” I admitted, losing my cool. I pulled back to meet his red eyes. My own were blurry with tears. I moved to hold his handsome face between my hands. His silver eyes leaked hot metal all over my heart, burning holes through it until it was nothing but a charred smoke-filled mess. I loved it. I’d never felt anything as amazing as holding his face under the proof of his love. “You’re the furthest thing from a loser to me, Dare.”

  His grip squeezed my waist, holding me onto his lap like I’d get up and bolt. Leave him here with his pictures and love. Our heavy breathing mingled between us. Where we touched felt electrified. He’d never looked so sexy to me as he did in that moment. So strong and brave. So trustworthy and… mine.

  “What am I to you then, Mel?”

  I pressed my forehead to his. I had to do this. Prove to him that if we ever ran again we would only do that together. Palm to palm. “You’re mine. If you still want to be.”

  “If I still want to be?” A small, pained smile lifted his sculpted lips. “I’ve been yours from the moment I saw your cute face in the hall all of fourteen-years-old. You stole my heart, Melanie Barton, and you didn’t even know it.”

  I kissed him. Hard. Our tongues tangled, hot and silky. There was no nervousness in our touch. No hesitation. There was intent and want. I had something to tell him and he had a lot to tell me.

  He led me over to his twin bed, and then Dare kissed me, touched me, and consumed me under a collage of his love for me. My face watched our bodies meet. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen—every one of those versions of me watched as I gave him my body for the first time, and my heart.

  I didn’t want it back.

  ***

  Sweat kissed our flesh where we touched. The scent of him was all around me. Cologne, shampoo, mint, and just him. I pressed my face into his pillow and inhaled him. Beside me, he breathed hard; his chest panted. Tendrils of pleasure still tingled through my body. My bare thighs pressed together, and my hand sought out his.

  His fingers wrapped around mine.

  “I knew you were hot, Tom, but I didn’t know you were that damn sexy.” He rolled onto his side, his eyes finding mine. He looked fearful and hesitant. He kissed my cheek, my nose, skimming his tender just-kissed lips over mine.

  He felt so different and still so familiar. I let him kiss me again until I couldn’t take it. I reached blindly for where he grabbed the first condom, and then I handed the second one to him with trembling fingers. I’d never flown so high. Never touched the clouds that long. Never felt anything as good as having our bodies conjoined, no space between us, giving me his love as I gave him my trust. We exchanged both, keeping our lips locked like we’d break apart if we ever let go.

  “Where’s your mom?” I asked, as we both lay in a tangled heap of tender kissed lips and sweat-slicked limbs.

  His thumb traced mine where our fingers met. “In the hospital.”

  And just like that our intense bubble, where it was just us and the truth, exploded. I sat up and grabbed for my panties, slipping them back on as he did the same to his boxers. I put my baggy jeans back on and my dark blue V-neck shirt on over my bra. I combed my fingers through my hair, watching him as he got up and opened his top drawer to pull out a pair of jeans. They hung unbuttoned on his hips. There was a hickey on his throat I hadn’t remembered giving him, but I did remember spending a long time moaning in that exact spot, kissing and biting his neck when it hurt, when it felt good, when it felt amazing.

  He pulled on a plain black shirt and then picked up the condom wrappers and tossed them both in the trash beside his bed.

  “Have you brought girls back here?” I wondered.

  He gave me a weird look like, are you crazy? “No, Mel. Course not.”

  I bit my lip, nervous all of a sudden. We hadn’t even talked. I’d attacked him. Twice. My virginity had exploded in a fit of passion and hunger. I’d given it to him and he took great care of it. But now that I could think again, I needed answers.

  “Is she okay?”

  “Barely,” he grunted, sinking down to the floor and gazing at me with nothing but openness and intensity.

  His walls were gone.

  So were mine.

  “What does that mean?” I asked softly, sliding down and sitting across from him. Our bare feet touched, and he locked our toes.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked instead, giving me a heavy look that made me squirm. “Did I hurt you?”

  I shook my head. “For a tiny second, but then it felt…”

  His lips pulled into a crooked smile and his eyes shimmered dangerously. “Mind-blowing?”

  I let my breath out in a rush. “Better than mind-blowing.” I’d never felt anything that good before. It was like touching the emotion itself and taking a bath in it.

  He licked his lips and gripped my toes tighter. “You ruined me, you know. In every single way. You feel like you’re made for me, but nothing ever makes it happen.”

  “You loved me all that time?” I had to know. Hear it from his mouth.

  He nodded, unashamed. Controlled with his secret. “I did.”

  “Why?”

  A smile played on his lips. It was soft and beautiful. “Why? Why not, Melanie? You’re gorgeous. Funny. Smart. Brave. You were a safe place for me as my world fell apart. And the last few weeks with you only proved that what I felt would never go away. I love you, Mel.
And I always have, and I always will. There’s nothing I could do about it. I tried,” he groaned miserably. “Tried to see other girls the way I saw you. It never worked. They were all missing something only you had. I tried not to love you, Mel, but it didn’t work. And now I’m done. Condemned myself to it.” He looked miserably happy.

  I thought I looked the same. The pictures on his walls watched us. “What’s your favorite picture of me?”

  His eyes lit, and he got up, plucking the picture over his bed down without even having to look through them first. He handed it to me.

  I was wearing loose khaki pants and a bright orange shirt that had are we all insane written on the front. My head was thrown back and I was laughing at something Sean or Gen had said. We were in the cafeteria. So young I hardly recognized myself.

  “First day of school, freshman year. We’d just moved to Phoenix. I was miserable. Alone. Pissed off. Mom was high all the time. I had nothing good in my life, Melly. Nothing. I felt empty all day and night. I was sitting in the cafeteria, hating everyone and everything, and then I heard you laugh. I looked over, and for the first time I felt myself smile. It was a punch to the gut. You made me smile when nothing else did. After that, it was history. I realized you had the locker across from mine, and I took advantage of it. Taking pictures so I could look at them later. When I was hungry, and Patrick was crying, and Mom was nowhere to be found, I’d pull one out and look at it. I’d know that all I had to do was wait until one day I could laugh as loud as you. My feelings took me under. One minute you were a safe place, the next you were everything.”

  Heat surrounded me. It was in my heart. In my bones. In the air, breathing into my lungs. I realized all that time, that warmth spreading through my chest was actually love.

  “Dare,” I breathed. “I love you, too.”

  I watched as he processed my words. He shook his head, arguing with himself. He licked his lips, and then he laughed in disbelief. “I’m sorry, what?”

  I got on my hands and knees and crawled to him. “I love you.”

  He clutched my face between his hands. “Don’t mess with me, Mel. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. I need you to mean it if you’re going to say those words to me, baby.”

  “I’m not messing with you. You were all those things to me, too. My safe place when my world fell apart. The only person who was there. Who made me smile, and laugh, and held me when I cried. You’re my best friend, and I love you, Darren Morre.”

  He crushed his lips onto mine and kissed me until we were both breathless and sprawled out on his bedroom floor.

  “Stop trying to distract me. Where is your mom?”

  “You’re distracting me,” he argued. “Let’s get out of my room. And away from my bed.”

  He helped me to my feet and brought me out into the living room. “How’d you get in?” he asked.

  “Front door was open.”

  “Oh. Forgot to close it. I was airing this place out.”

  He looked over his living room with unmistakable heartache in his eyes. “Mom overdosed. Patrick was eating his cereal and she did it, Mel. She shot up right in front of him. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time. He kept right on eating and didn’t come to get me until she threw up and hit her head.”

  I took his hand.

  “I tried to revive her, but I couldn’t. I called 911 and then they took her away. Cops came. They called CPS.” His voice wobbled. “I’m almost eighteen, but Patrick’s not. They took him.” He broke down, his shaking hand gripping mine as he cried.

  I flung my arms around his neck and held him as hard as I could. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Rent’s past due. Three months. The landlord’s kicking me out. Patrick’s gone. Mom’s in the hospital. I’m all alone.”

  My heart ached for him. I threaded my fingers in his hair and increased my grip on him. “You’re not alone, Dare. You have me. You let me be your safe place all these years, let me do it a little longer. Why don’t you come home with me?”

  He snorted. “Like your old man would allow that.”

  I took his hand, glaring at him. “Go pack a bag.”

  He shook me off. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “Dare,” I warned, on the edge of sobbing. He looked so lost, when he’d been my foundation.

  “Where will I put your pictures?” he demanded, like that was all that mattered. Those damn pictures.

  “We’ll figure it out. Let’s go take them down, and then you pack a bag, and I’ll call my dad.”

  He just stared at me. Hair a mess. Eyes red. A hickey on his neck. His feelings for me set free. He had nothing left. But he had me, and I would never let him down.

  “Please come with me,” I begged, biting back tears.

  I led him back into his room, and then we spent the afternoon taking down every picture he had on his wall. We put them in shoeboxes. Five full shoeboxes of pictures. As he taped them closed I went outside to call my dad.

  “You weren’t at school,” he criticized. “I ungrounded you, and then you go and pull a stunt like this?”

  “Please listen to me.” I told him about Dare’s mom, about his brother, and about him being homeless. “Can he come stay with us for a little while?”

  “Are you out of your mind?” he growled. “Melanie, listen to yourself. What kind of moron do I look like? Letting a boy move into my house? This isn’t an MTV reality show.”

  “You owe me,” I seethed. “You owe me for ripping apart my trust and for making me go to sleep alone. For not being there. You owe me!” I shouted.

  “Calm down,” he hissed. “We’ll talk about it when you get home.”

  Yeah right. “Listen, Dad. If you don’t let him come home with me, I won’t come home.”

  He took a second to answer. “Don’t threaten me.”

  “I’m bringing him home with me, and we’re going to be there for him. He just lost everything.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. His pain hurt me. I didn’t want Dare to hurt. I wanted him to smile as big as he wanted to the first day of freshman year.

  “Mel. Stop crying. Listen to me.” He sighed gruffly. “Fine. Bring the damn boy here. We’ll figure it out.”

  I sagged in relief. “Really? The guilt-trip worked?”

  He laughed in surprise. “Guess so. But this is temporary. I mean the very truest form of the word. He’s not getting comfortable in my house.”

  “Thank you, Dad.”

  He grunted. “Get home immediately.”

  “We will.”

  “We?” he moaned, and then I hung up, running inside to find Dare filling up a duffle bag.

  “He said yes,” I told him, grinning from ear-to-ear with tears in my eyes.

  “Stop crying, Mel. No more tears.” He pulled me into a hug. “You really want to do this for me?”

  “Of course. Wouldn’t you do it for me?”

  He only hugged me. “If I had it, and you needed it, I’d give you every single damn thing I had, Tom.”

  I rose on my tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Don’t forget our hat.”

  Dare drove to my place without speaking once. He was numb and hollow. I’d never seen him so empty before. He looked exhausted and dragged down, heart in shambles. I bit my lip and watched him the entire time out the corner of my eye. His hat was between us.

  When we got to my place, I took one of his duffle bags and he took the other. We trudged up the walkway and the door flung open, revealing my dad standing there with irritation clear on his face. He crossed his arms over his chest and blocked the door so neither Dare nor me could enter.

  “Before you step foot in my house, you need to understand some things,” he stated, staring Dare down.

  Dare faced him, bored and empty. “Okay.”

  “Dad,” I started, but he waved me off.

  “First, you are not, under any circumstances, sleeping in her room. You’ll sleep in the room next to mine. The floors creak.” He grinned evilly. “You’re not to tou
ch her in any way when I’m not home, and you’re not to touch her at all when I am home. I’m not putting up with your bad boy shit either. You go to school every day and be home by nine. If you’re not, you’re out, and then your someone else’s problem. I’m doing this for my daughter, and only her. Got that, son?”

  I quirked a brow at his rules. What did he think we’d do together? And then I recalled the hickey on Dare’s neck and prayed Dad didn’t look too far to the right. Didn’t ask how he’d already touched me.

  “He gets it.” I took Dare’s arm and started leading him up the steps.

  He dug his heels in and stood straight and faced my father. “I love your daughter,” he promised, like it was the easiest truest thing he’d ever said to anyone.

  Even Dad quirked a brow at him, losing a shred of his antagonistic behavior. “Love doesn’t make you a good person.”

  To that, Dare laughed, a sad, bitter sound. “Don’t I know it. So where can I set up my topless bar?”

  Dad tried, really hard, not to laugh at that, but in the end, he caved, giving Dare a chuckle with a roll of his eyes. “No topless parties with the kid around.” He threw a jab at me. “She’s a buzz kill.”

  I gaped at him. Biting my tongue, I left them both on the front step and marched up the stairs, sick with the things I’d learned today, but also elated with them, too. My head spun. I dropped his bags off and my backpack, and then I stood in the middle of my room, trying to make sense of the last few hours.

  It didn’t work.

  I sank down on my bed just as Dare and Dad came in. Dad’s gaze was beady and intense, watching us both like we’d get naked in the time for it took for him to blink.

  “Don’t make me regret this,” he warned, pinning me in place with his stare. “You set up the back room. I’m ordering pizza for dinner. Combination okay?”

  I bobbed my head.

  He shot Dare one last look, and then left, making sure to kick at my door with his foot so it swung all the way open.

  When he left, Dare’s eyes snapped to mine. “I feel like I’m in a nightmare. But you’re there, and I don’t want to wake up.”

  “I’m sorry for letting you push me away. I’m sorry for not fighting. But I think I was tired of fighting. I didn’t want to do it another minute.”