by Jeff Shelby
Her hand was soft and warm and I had a hard time finding my voice. “Yeah.”
She scooted closer to me, pressing up against me. “Can I tell you a secret?”
She smelled so damn good and I was sort of glad her hand was on my knee and not higher. Because she would have felt a brick between my legs. “Yeah.”
“The other night,” she whispered. “At Ty's party. I really didn't want to stop.”
I remembered. We'd been on the bed, our clothes coming off as we went further along. All of me ached, but I knew I wasn't prepared to go any further because, well, I'd never had a need to be prepared. I hadn't thought to fill my pockets with the condoms I kept in my nightstand for whenever I finally de-virginized myself. But I remembered what her skin felt like and lying on top of her, pushing against her as her tongue explored the inside of my mouth. Yeah. My entire body had ached.
“Me, either,” I said.
“So would you have?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Gone further, I mean. If I hadn't left?”
I thought for a second, then shook my head. “No.” Her eyebrow lifted higher and I added, “I didn't...I didn't have anything.”
“I remember you saying that,” she said, a small smile playing across her lips. “But...you know. We could've still...done other things.”
Butterflies banged around in my gut. “I know.”
She leaned toward me and kissed me and I tasted her and the brownie had nothing on her. Nothing. Her tongue flicked lightly against my lips, then against my teeth. I pulled her onto my lap and she straddled me on her knees, holding my face with her hands. She pressed her hips into me and I lifted up and there was no possible way that she couldn't have felt me. She leaned fully into me and I wrapped my arms around her. I didn't care that her clothes were wet. I just wanted them off.
“Do you have anything in your room?” she whispered.
“Yeah,” I rasped.
We kissed again, harder this time. My entire body was a brushfire. The butterflies wrestled in my stomach. The drama from school was gone, all the bullshit with Derek and Amy and everything else. It was me and Cam and the fact that I was just a horny teenage boy looking at the real possibility of losing his virginity. There was still a tiny whisper in my head, that it was too easy with Cam, that she was into me as much because I was a basketball player as for any other reason.
As her tongue danced in my mouth and she grinded her hips into mine, though, I didn't much care.
After a minute, I pulled my mouth from hers and whispered, “Do you wanna go in my room?”
Her face was flushed. “Is your dad coming home?”
I ran my hands down her sides, then over her stomach. I could feel her heated skin through her damp shirt. “He's at work.”
She slid her hands inside my shirt and pressed them against my chest. I felt like I was going to explode.
“Let's go,” she said.
TWENTY FOUR
“I've…I’ve never done this before.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“It's okay. Do you have—?”
“Yes… “
“Here. I'll put it on you. There.”
“How do I—?”
“I’ll show you. Here. Right here…”
“Jesus…”
“Go slow.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah, like that. Just like that.”
“It's fine?”
“Yeah. Do you like it?”
“Holy shit, yes.”
“Good. You feel good.”
“I'm not sure I can—”
“Just go faster now, Brady. Faster.”
“Oh my God. Yes. Yes... Cam—”
TWENTY FIVE
“This was honestly your first time?” Cam asked.
“Can we maybe stop talking about that?” I asked.
We were burrowed under the sheets, still naked, still warm, still in the dark.
But I was not still a virgin.
“Just hard to believe,” she said, her arm wrapped around me, her head on my chest. Her hair tickled my nose, my cheek, but I didn’t brush it away. I just breathed her in.
“Why?”
She threw her leg over me and I could feel every single part of her naked body against mine. It did not suck.
“Because you're a guy,” she said. “Because you're good-looking. How has it never happened?”
“I don't know.”
“Didn't you have girlfriends?”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“I don't know,” I said. “I mean, I went to dances and stuff...”
“Did those girls not want to?”
“I don't know. It just never happened.”
That was the truth. I'd gone out with girls and we'd kissed and made out and stuff, but we'd never gotten to the point where we were that close. It wasn't like I'd been saving myself. It just hadn't happened. And now that it had, I wondered if that was a good thing. Had I just all of a sudden given in because it was easy and we were alone and Cameron clearly wanted to be with me?
Or had I just wanted to do it and reached the point where I didn't care who I was with?
She rubbed her hand across my chest. “Hmm. Okay. Still hard to believe.”
“Do I even wanna know how many times you've done this before?”
“I don't know. Do you?”
“Probably.”
She laughed. “A few.”
I wanted to press. I wanted to ask who, how many, when was the last time. But I realized it wasn't because I cared who she’d been with. It was because I wanted to reassure myself that she'd done it before, and I hadn't done anything wrong with her that she hadn't wanted to do.
“Was it good? This time, I mean,” I asked.
“Better than good,” she said. “That's sorta why it's hard to believe. That was...nice.”
It was better than nice for me. I couldn't believe I'd waited so long to have sex. It felt incredible, like all of the good things I'd ever experienced wrapped into one amazing thing. Her body felt unreal. She tasted good. My body still felt light and tingly. And I wanted to do it again. And again.
“Was I any good?” Cam asked, snuggling in tighter against me.
“I don't have anything to base it on.”
“Gee, thanks.”
I rubbed my foot against hers. “It was good. Really, really good.”
“You're just saying that.”
“We should probably do it again, then,” I said. “So I have something to judge it against.”
She made some noise that I thought was agreeable and her mouth was against my ear. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. So I'll know. I don't want to lie to you.”
“Brady?” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
She slid on top of me and I felt everything on me spring to life. Jesus. I couldn't touch her enough. Her entire body felt like warm silk.
“I think I'd like to have lots of sex with you,” she said, her mouth moving to mine.
I didn't answer. But I knew one thing.
I wanted to have lots of sex with her, too.
TWENTY SIX
“There's a picture,” Jake said.
It was before the first bell and he was next to my locker, waiting for me. I'd half-expected to see Cam standing there. She'd left after we'd done it a second time and I'd spent the rest of the night thinking about if I was really any good at it and when we might do it again and wondering if it was that good with every girl and what it would feel like to do it with someone else and how we were supposed to act together now. I didn't know how it worked. Instead, I saw Jake standing in the hallway, bouncing on his feet, chewing on his thumbnail. He yanked the thumb out of his mouth when he saw me coming.
I tugged the lock on my locker and pulled on the door. “A picture of what?”
“Of Amy,” he said, lowering his voice as a group of girls passed behind us.
“What are you
talking about?”
He frowned. “From the night of the party. At Hammerling's. She's naked.”
“Are you screwing with me, Jake? Because I was in a good mood and—”
“Hey,” he said, “Mr. I'm Not Gonna Turn Into A Dickhead. Are you listening to me? They took a picture of her. Passed the fuck out.”
I blinked. “Did you see it?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. But it's out there. It'll hit me soon enough. And from what I heard, she's totally...out of it.”
I motioned for him to move and I closed the locker. I swung my backpack around and unzipped it. “Why the hell are you telling me this? Dude, she ditched me at the party and, as you pointed out, I actually was into her. So I was pissed. But she bailed me. And if you noticed, she didn't exactly give me a reason. So I really don't know why you're telling me. What the hell do you want me to do?”
And that was exactly how I felt. I was still pissed that she'd essentially dumped me and used me to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, not just because I'd liked her but because that was a shitty thing to do to anyone for any reason. And now that I was with Cam—or whatever I was with Cam—I didn't feel like I was invested in anything that was happening to Amy Mitchell.
He held up two fingers. “Two reasons. One, she was passed the fuck out. Do you get me? As in, drunker than shit and, uh, maybe she didn't want to be there. That kind of passed out.”
A tiny icicle formed in my chest. “Like they—” I thought about Derek’s words at practice. How Amy had wanted it, had asked Ty and Ken to join in.
“Yeah. Like that, dude,” he said. “I haven't seen it and I know people say stupid shit all the time, but I have a feeling this is real.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah.” I looked at him. “You said there were two reasons.”
He chewed on his bottom lip for a couple seconds and his hands wrapped tightly around the straps of his backpack.
“What?” I asked, the icicle growing in my chest.
He leveled his eyes with mine. “People are saying you took the picture.”
TWENTY SEVEN
“I wasn't there,” I said.
“You were at the party.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “So you think I took it?”
He shook his head. “No. I'm saying you were there, so people know you were there.”
“She ditched me,” I said, the anger finally hitting me. “She ditched me. And then I was with Cam. So fuck anybody that's saying that.”
“Look, man, I'm just—”
“And you know what else?” I said, my anger gaining momentum. “Derek told me what happened. She wasn't passed out. She didn't end up there by mistake. She went up there to hook up with him. And Ty and Blake. I had nothing to do with it. Nothing. So everybody can go—”
“Wait, wait,” he said, holding up a hand. “Back up. It was all three of them. Those three?”
I jammed my lock together. “Yeah.”
He looked away for a minute. “Your captains.”
“Yeah,” I said, annoyed. “So?”
He was lost in thought and my irritation was growing by the second. I started to say something, but over his shoulder, I saw Amy coming down the hall. She was dressed the same way as the day before —jeans and a gray sweatshirt, no makeup. Her chin was down and her shoulders hunched, her backpack looking like it weighed a million pounds. She stopped at her locker and started spinning the combo.
I pushed past Jake.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
I didn't answer him and made a beeline for Amy. She didn't glance up until I was right next to her.
“Are you telling people I took that picture?” I asked. “Lying the same way you lied to me about coming back?”
She looked at me like I'd pissed on her leg. “What?”
“I don't wanna be dragged into this bullshit,” I said. “I hate drama. So whatever the fuck happened, leave me out of it. You understand?”
Jake grabbed my arm. “Hey. Stop.”
I shook him off. “No. Fuck this. She bailed on me at the party and then went and fucked half the team. That isn't my problem.” I looked at Amy. “And if you're the one throwing my name out there, knock it off.”
Her lips pressed together and her jaw was vibrating. “I went looking for you.”
“Where? In another state?”
Her eyes flitted to Jake, then back to me. “I went looking for you because they said you were looking for me upstairs.” She paused, her jaw still shaking. “I went looking for you.”
I started to say something, completely pissed off, then stopped, processing her words. What the hell did she mean she'd gone looking for me? And who told her I was looking for her?
“And what fucking picture?” she growled. She looked at Jake. “What are you talking about?”
He didn't say anything, just rubbed at his chin, not finding the words.
“A picture of me?” she asked, staring first at Jake, then me. “From that night?”
Jake chewed on his lip, then nodded.
She dropped her chin, staring down at the ground. She looked up again, tears in her eyes, the rest of her face a snarl of anger. “I didn't say shit to anyone about that night. Or you. Not a single fucking person. And I sure as hell didn't take some picture and tell people you took it.”
She turned to her locker, snatched out a book and slammed the door shut. “I can only guess what that thing looks like. Really looking forward to seeing it. Because guess what?” Her eyes went hard. “My entire life right now is drama and bullshit. So don't worry. There's none left to go around. It's all mine. All fucking mine.”
She pushed between us, took about three steps, turned around and came right up to me. I took a step back.
“And fuck you for saying I bailed you,” she snapped. “You were the only reason I stayed at that stupid ass party.” She smiled, but there was nothing nice about it. “The only reason. Lotta good that did me.”
I stood there and watched her walk away.
TWENTY EIGHT
I couldn't bring myself to look at Amy during history. I swore her eyes were burning into the back of my head the entire time. I couldn't focus on anything, and all I knew was that I didn't know shit. Nothing added up and someone was lying to me.
And I was pretty sure I knew who.
At lunch, I grabbed my tray and sat down across from Jake.
“This a new thing?” He was peeling an orange. “You sitting here?”
“Yeah. You mind?”
“Not at all,” he said. “Just checking. But aren't your girlfriend and your teammates gonna be pissed?”
I paused for a second, thinking about Cam. I still hadn't seen her or talked to her and it felt kind of weird. I had this idea in my head that we should be doing something—holding hands or sitting together or something that made us look like a couple now that we'd had sex—but I wasn't exactly sure what that something was. She hadn't come and found me, either, though and that felt weird, too. As good as the sex felt, the awkwardness now was eating away at me. She could always come sit with us if she wanted.
“I don't know about Cam,” I said. “But fuck the rest of them.”
He dropped the orange peels on his tray. “Well, this should be interesting then.”
On cue, Derek and Ty stopped at the table. Derek looked at Jake, then me. “What are you doing?”
“Eating lunch,” I said.
“Slumming is more like it,” Ty said, a smirk on his face.
Jake just laughed and shook his head.
“Come on,” Derek said, tilting his head toward the normal table. “Eat with us.”
“I'm good,” I said. “Thanks.”
Derek looked at Jake, then at me again. He shrugged. “See you later, then.” He walked over to his normal table and Ty followed him, throwing a dirty look back at Jake.
Jake smiled and waved.
“I wanna know something,” I said, sticking my fork into the cafeteria's idea
of mac and cheese.
He popped an orange slice into his mouth. “Okay.”
“You zoned out after I told you who she was with,” I said, stabbing several of the noodles. I didn’t want to eat but I knew I’d regret the decision later. I forced a bite in my mouth. “Why?”
His mouth twitched. “Something I heard about last year. I'm still not sure it's real, but with what you said?” He shrugged. “I think it's a possibility.”
“Tell me.”
He finished off the oranges. “Last year, there was this girl. She was a senior. Tessa Jackson. Pretty hot, pretty popular. I didn't know her, just knew of her, you know? The way you know the names of the people you're supposed to think are cool.”
I nodded.
“So last year about two weeks into the basketball season, she's just...gone,” he explained. “She was here on Friday, gone on Monday. Never came back to school. Not too weird or anything, right? People move, shit happens, whatever.” He paused, running his fork through the food on his plate. “But then a couple weeks later, people start talking. Saying something happened to her. And I thought it was all bullshit because you know how it is. Someone leaves school and suddenly they're in jail or some shit like that. New kid comes to school and he's on parole.” He made a face. “People are assholes and just make up shit.”
I nodded again.
“But I started hearing it over and over,” he said. “The same thing.” He glanced over my shoulder and raised his eyebrows. “Your girlfriend just sat down with your pals. Think she's looking for you.”
I twisted around on the bench. Cam was next to Ty, saying something to the group. Her eyes moved in my direction. She gave me a small wave, then motioned for me to come over. I shook my head, then pointed at her and motioned for her to come to the table I was sharing with Jake. A confused expression settled on her face and she looked at the group at her table. Then she looked back to me and spread her hands out over her food, like “I'm already here.”
My gut twinged. She picked them over me. At least that's what it felt like. We'd had sex, but she was picking them because it was too hard to pick up her tray and come over. I didn't get that. At all.
