“Where’s your suit?”
He starts undoing his jeans. “I’m wearing it.”
Soon we’re both in the water and I challenge him to our first race. He’s fast but I win. “Go again,” he tells me eagerly. So we do and this time he beats me by a stroke.
“Ha!” he says victoriously, reaching over and pulling me to him. “To the victor go the spoils.”
I frown. “I’m the spoils?”
His face is close to mine. “No, but you could spoil me if you wanted.” And now we are kissing and our kisses are wet and slippery and exciting. He pulls me even closer and my heart is racing as I feel his skin against mine. His breath and his kisses — they’re intoxicating. I enjoy it for a while, but then it’s getting carried away — and who knows who might be watching.
“We’re tied now,” I breathlessly tell him. “Want to go best two out of three?”
“Again?” He looks disappointed, but I’m already against the wall ready to race.
“Come on, or are you chicken?”
He laughs and comes over beside me. “You asked for it.”
“On your mark, get set, go!” I yell and we both streak across the pool and back, side by side the whole time.
“I won!” he proclaims.
“It was a tie,” I shoot back.
“My hand hit the side first.”
I make a face. “I want to see the digital playback.”
He laughs and pulls me to him again. “I clearly won and now you owe me a prize.”
“What kind of prize?” But already he’s kissing me again. We kiss and kiss, both above and beneath the water, and he holds me so close, with our legs entangled, that I almost feel like we’re one entity, some kind of weird octopus with four arms and four legs.
“Is your dad home yet?” he whispers in my ear.
This sends a start through me. He wasn’t home when I changed into my suit, but what if he is now? I push Harris away and look up at our unit, trying to see if there’s anyone looking down this way from the darkened terrace. But the lights around the pool and the chlorine in my eyes make it hard to see.
“I don’t know. He wasn’t home earlier.”
“Want to go up and check?” Harris asks hopefully. “I’m starting to get cold and it would be nice to dry off some before I go home.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “I’ll go check.” I climb out of the pool and grab a towel, wrapping it around me like a sarong. “There’s a towel for you,” I call out as I leave.
I feel nervous as I go up the stairs. What if Dad is home? What if he’s been watching us? What will he say? More important, what will I say? To my huge relief, Dad isn’t home yet. So I go out to the terrace, turn on the light, and quietly call down to the pool. “The coast is clear.”
Harris climbs out and gets his towel. “Thanks,” he tells me as I let him in. “I was starting to feel like an ice cube down there.”
“You use the bathroom. I’ll change in my bedroom.”
We go our separate ways and I hurry into some warm-ups and attempt to towel dry and brush out my hair. I’m just putting on some lip gloss when I hear Harris. “You coming out of there or should I come in and get —”
“Here I am,” I say as I emerge from my room.
He grins suggestively and pulls me toward him. “I wouldn’t have minded coming in there to get you.”
I make a forced laugh. “Yes, I’m sure you wouldn’t have.” It’s becoming pretty obvious that this guy is way more experienced than I am. For that matter, I’m positive that most of the U.S. teen population is way more experienced than I am. Not that I plan to reveal this to anyone.
Harris makes small talk as he guides me into the living room, where the lights are dimmed. We sit on the sofa and he slips his arm around me. “This has been a great night, Haley. I had no idea you were this much fun.”
I feel a ripple of delight over this praise. “I’ve had fun too, Harris, even if you did cheat at swimming.”
“I didn’t cheat.” He tickles me around my waist. “I won fair and square, admit it.”
“No,” I shriek with laughter, “you cheated!”
Now we’re having a wrestling match, which goes from the couch to the floor. We’re both laughing and teasing and then suddenly he is straddling me, pinning both my arms to the floor over my head. If he wasn’t grinning, I might be scared. I had no idea he was so strong. “Admit it, Haley, I won.”
Between giggles, I admit that he may have won. Then he leans down, landing a passionate kiss on me, then another. I feel like I’m being swept away by this, like being pulled out with the tide, like I want to just drown in his affection. But then I hear something at the front door.
“My dad!” I hiss at him. “He’s home!”
In the same instant Harris jumps off me, straightens his clothes and hair, flips on the lights, reaches for the remote, and flops down onto the sofa. I try to follow his lead but am slower and just barely on my feet when my dad steps into the house.
“Hey, Dad,” I say in way too sweet a voice, “you’re home.” I walk past him and into the kitchen, where I dig in the fridge for a couple of sodas, like this was what I was doing. “Harris is here,” I call over my shoulder. “I’d like you to meet him.” I feel rather pleased with how well I’m handling this, very grown-up, I think.
Dad goes into the living room and I introduce them, and to my relief Harris steps right in, telling Dad about the movie we saw tonight and how we took a swim afterward, going into detail of how he beat me in our swim race. “Although Haley is really fast for a girl.”
“She used to be on swim team.” Dad hangs up his jacket. Then I ask Dad about Monterey and he briefly describes their day.
“Sounds like a good time.” Harris is standing now. “Speaking of time, I should get going. I have an eleven o’clock curfew.”
I walk him outside, where we exchange one last good-night kiss. “That ended too soon,” he says wistfully.
“I know,” I whisper back.
He smiles. “Until next time.”
I watch as he goes down the stairs, almost feeling that my heart is going with him. I stand there for a few minutes, trying to take this all in. Talk about a whirlwind romance; that is exactly what this feels like. I love him, love him, love him — and I really don’t want to lose him. Still, as I go back inside, I feel nervous about how quickly things are moving. I know I’m in way over my head right now, but I’m just hoping I can figure it all out as I go along.
...[CHAPTER 9].................
On Sunday morning, Dad insists that he and I do something together. Somehow he’s gotten the idea that I’m put out with him for spending the whole day with Estelle yesterday. He couldn’t be more wrong. Still, I try to play along as we eat our cold cereal.
“So what do you want to do?” he asks for about the thirteenth time.
“Like I said, I don’t really know. What do you usually do on Sundays?”
“I usually do something with Estelle.”
“Then maybe you should —”
“We’ve already been through that. I told Estelle that today was for you.”
“Was she mad?”
He shrugs, then refills his coffee mug.
“She wasn’t happy, was she?”
“Estelle likes to have fun on the weekends. She works hard all week and figures the weekend should make up for it.”
“Can’t blame her for that.”
“But back to us and today.” Dad sets his mug firmly on the countertop. “Tell me what you’d like to do.”
If I told Dad what I really wanted to do, he’d be hurt. What I really want to do is spend the day with Harris.
“You seemed to enjoy shopping last weekend. I suppose we could do something like that again.”
I frown. “You really think your credit card can afford it?”
He laughs. “I think so.”
I consider this. If we go shopping, we’ll still be within cell phone range, whereas if w
e go out into the “wilderness” to hike and take photos like he suggested earlier, we might not be. Also it would take longer to get there and back. And I’m really hoping Harris wants to do something before the day is over.
“Sure,” I tell Dad. “Shopping is fine. But maybe we should invite Estelle to come along.”
Dad looks surprised. “Really? You want her to come?”
“Why not? She’s a fantastic shopper and she’s fun.” Okay, that might be overstating it, but it’s for Dad.
He looks like I just handed him a thousand dollar bill. “So you like her then?”
“Yeah, I like her. What did you think?” Okay, here I go lying again. I do not particularly like Estelle. In fact, I sort of dislike her a lot. But I do like that she occupies Dad and that frees me up a lot. I’ve decided that Estelle is a very handy woman to have around. Although I feel like a real hypocrite for thinking that.
“I just didn’t get the impression you were that fond of her.” Dad reaches for the phone. “I’m actually really relieved to hear this, Haley.”
I make what feels like a phony smile. “Tell her hey for me. I’ll go get ready.”
Back in my room I stare at myself in the mirror. Who am I? Who am I becoming? But then I think of Harris and decide I don’t really care. What matters most is keeping him. I want to keep him … maybe forever.
To that purpose I go shopping with Dad and Estelle again. Oh, Dad pulls his “I gotta check my e-mail and the stocks” routine again. But everyone seems happy and I actually score some new clothes out of the deal. Now that Harris is in my life, clothes seem more important than they did last week. And Estelle is great at finding the kinds of things that make me look hot and really show off my figure, which she keeps pointing out is “totally fabulous.”
So maybe I like Estelle after all. Mostly I’m relieved that her “little” brother (aka Uncle Buck) isn’t ratting on me for making out with Harris in the Wet Willie’s parking lot on Friday night. Somehow I know that wouldn’t sound good to my dad. And as it is, he seems to like Harris. I’d like to keep it that way. Perhaps I can keep it that way for years to come … because I truly think Harris and I are the real thing. I would never admit this to anyone (because it sounds so corny), but I want to marry that boy. I really, really do!
……….
My communication with Harris is minimal on Sunday, but at least he’s in touch and texts me that he got roped into some family function. I text him back saying I’m doing the same. Then he says he’ll call me later tonight.
So after dinner I go to my room on the pretense of homework, but keeping my phone at my elbow, I’m really surfing the Net and listening to music. It’s almost nine when my phone rings.
“I’ve missed you,” he says first thing.
“I missed you too.”
We talk about our day a bit, then we talk about each other — how much we like each other, how cool it is we’re together. Finally he says he needs to go and offers me a ride to school.
“Sounds good,” I say, although I want to jump up and down and squeal. He says what time, then we say a gushy good night, and I close my phone and fall onto my bed. He’s still into me! I am so happy. And I can’t believe I’m now one of those girls who gets to ride with her boyfriend to school. Life is good. I carefully lay out what I want to wear tomorrow. Thanks to today’s shopping spree, my closet is looking more like a real closet — and I feel like a real teenage girl. Not like the nun my mother was trying to force me to be.
On Monday morning, I head down to the parking lot at the time Harris told me. I could wait to see if he comes up to get me, but it’s really no trouble to go down there. He’s a few minutes late and seems surprised that I’m waiting for him.
“Sorry I’m late.” He pulls into the street. “But you could’ve waited in the house. I would’ve called you.”
“Oh.” I nod. I probably looked overeager by standing in the parking lot. “I just wanted some fresh air.”
“Yeah, it’s a nice day all right.”
We make small talk as he drives, but at the stop sign, his hand wanders over and he gives my thigh a squeeze. “I missed you, Haley.”
I smile. “Me, too.”
At school he comes around and opens my door, helps me out, and then pulls me into his arms. “I really missed you,” he says passionately. Now we kiss and I feel myself melting again. Part of me wants to glance around to see if anyone is looking. Another part of me doesn’t care in the least.
“We better get to class,” I finally tell him as I pull away.
“Yeah.” His voice sounds husky. “I guess so.”
We hold hands as we walk into school, and I try to keep a perfectly natural expression on my face. I want to act like this is no big deal, like I’ve had lots of boyfriends and Harris is just one more. But underneath my cool veneer, I am trembling with excitement. This is so cool.
I can feel people looking at us. Some with mild interest. Others, like Emery’s friends, openly stare. A few say hey and we greet them back. Harris seems a little nervous too. But he walks me all the way to my locker and plants another kiss on my lips. “See ya later, Haley.”
I open my locker, resisting the urge to stick my head inside and giggle with glee, and I remove what I need, then close it. When I turn around, Emery is looking at me. It’s not a mean look exactly. More like she’s curious or confused. I attempt a weak smile in her direction. She seems to take that as an invitation and comes over.
“I’m not blaming you for the breakup,” she tells me evenly. “Everyone knows it was just a matter of time with Harris and me.” She looks around, as if wanting to see if anyone else is listening. “But just so you know, I will get him back … eventually.”
My brows arch but I try not to look alarmed. “I guess we’ll see about that.”
She nods. “We most definitely will.”
Now I force a bigger smile. “I’m just glad you’re not mad at me. I really didn’t want to make any enemies.”
She smiles back and I’m surprised at how truly pretty she is — strikingly pretty. “No, I don’t like to make enemies either. At least we agree on that.” She turns and walks away, holding her head high. Her confidence shakes me, but I try to act like I’m unaffected, like I don’t feel like a peasant in front of the queen.
Don’t be ridiculous, I chide myself. Emery isn’t superior to me or anyone. It’s just that she acts like she is — oh, in a sugar-coated, friendly way — but it’s not like I have to buy into it. Besides, I have Harris.
Lunchtime is a little precarious. I’ve decided to remain low-key, hoping I can stay beneath Saundra’s and some of the others’ radar. I wait for Harris to come into the cafeteria, then follow his lead as we get our food and go to the regular table.
“Oh, look, here comes the happy couple,” someone says.
Now we get some teasing tossed our way. Some good-natured jabs, some with sharper barbs attached. But after a while they seem to grow bored and start talking about last week’s game and how this week’s is even more important.
“Having a new girlfriend better not slow you down,” one of the guys says to Harris.
“Don’t worry.” Harris gently elbows me. “This girl is keeping me in shape.” He chuckles like this is a private joke, so I laugh too.
This evokes some off-color comments and jokes, and my cheeks burn. I can also feel Emery’s eyes on me. I know what’s going on too — I may be naive, but I’m not stupid. Everyone here is assuming Harris and I have had sex. Part of me thinks I should just go along with this charade, but another part of me wants to raise my hand and make a statement of innocence. Naturally, I listen to the first part.
Somehow I make it through lunch with a smidgeon of dignity attached. Harris walks me to class and kisses me, and I think maybe I can keep up this charade after all.
“So you’ve gone ahead and done it,” Poppie says to me in art class.
“Done what?”
“Gone all the way over t
o the dark side.”
“Huh?” I select a very thin watercolor brush, then give her a blank look.
“You and Harris Stephens, you’re a couple now.”
“Oh.” I just shrug, heading back to the worktable. “Is there a law against that?”
“Not if you want to ruin your life.”
I turn and stare at her. “Ruin my life? Don’t you think that’s being a little melodramatic?”
She makes an uneasy smile as she sits down. “Maybe so. But I’ve heard things about Harris, how he rolls. I just didn’t think you were like that, Haley.”
“Me neither,” Zach says as he joins us at the table.
“It’s touching that you two are so interested in my private affairs.” I sit down too. “But I really think you should get a life of your own.”
“Ooh.” Zach pulls his head back like I just zapped him.“Ouch.”
“Excuse us for caring about you,” Poppie says.
“I think it’s sweet that you care,” I tell her. “But I just don’t get why you’re so worried. Harris is a great guy. We had a wonderful weekend and — ”
“Really?” Zach leans forward with way too much interest. “What did you and Harris do this weekend?”
“None of your business,” I sweetly tell him.
“Aw.” He makes a face.
“Well, I just hope you know what you’re getting into.” Poppie dips her brush in water, then turns her focus onto her painting of an old building.
“What she said.” Zach’s expression gets serious. “Watch out.”
I roll my eyes, then divert my attention to my own piece. I’m painting an old rusty pickup parked in the middle of a field, with crows sitting on it. I found the picture in a magazine and for some reason liked it. Maybe I’ll mat and frame it and give it to Harris when it’s finished.
After school Harris meets me in the hallway. “I have practice, you know,” he tells me, “but I’ll call you after, okay?”
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