by Blair Holden
We settle near the lake, thankfully the grass isn’t wet so we don’t need a blanket.
“What I wouldn’t pay to know what goes on in that head of yours.” He chuckles as he passes me a napkin and a slice of pizza.
“Usually nightmares about how you pushed me from this very tree when we were nine. I broke my arm, had to wear a cast for three weeks, and missed my piano recital.”
“It wasn’t this tree,” he says defensively, pointing to the weeping willow behind us. I shake my head and smile at the sudden embarrassment on his face. Is he feeling bad?
“I think I would remember, thank you very much.”
“I didn’t think you’d actually fall,” he says softly, picking on the blades of grass. His bottom lip is sticking out, looking incredibly pink and way more attractive than I want it to look. Cole’s made me have a lip fetish apparently.
“It’s okay, it’s been nine years, and I think I’m over it by now.” I chuckle and he laughs with me. Much as I used to want to, I don’t like making him feel guilty anymore. It’s apparent that he feels bad for all the times he’s bullied me in the past.
“So did you pick a song?” he asks as we finish eating. I lean back on my elbows and look up at the starry night sky. I don’t want to talk about the silly competition right now. Here, in my own bubble, I just want to relax and not think about all the problems plaguing my life. I’d stopped coming to our town park a long time ago. Nicole and her posse would almost always be here and she was almost always making out with Jay. In hindsight I think she kissed Jay to drive me away, not because she actually wanted to.
“What song?” I ask looking at him, only to find him staring at me with a wide-eyed gaze. Immediately I sit up straight, wrapping my arms around myself. That look of his, his intense piercing gaze, has my heart doing a dance of its own inside my chest. No dancing, heart! Not over a potential heartbreaker like Cole Stone.
He scratches the back of his neck and avoids looking at me. Once again I feel like a douche for making him uncomfortable. I don’t want him to think that he creeps me out. It’s the opposite, in fact, I like the way he’s been looking at me way more than I should.
“You know, the one we’re supposed to dance to?”
Oh, right, the dance. The dance every couple taking part in the competition has to perform, the one if you nail it, it means that you’ve won the title. Cole wants to wrench it right from Nicole’s grasp and give me the one thing she’s worked for for so long. Her popularity is all she cares about and watching someone else take it away from her would destroy her in more ways than one. I’m not sure I want to do this to her. I’m not sure that I’m even capable of dethroning her. Though whenever I say such a thing, I receive a huge lecture on self-esteem from my unwanted spiritual coach, Cole, and am forced to suck it.
“I didn’t think you’d be interested. You said slow dancing was for pansy pants.”
“It is for pansy pants, shortcake, but we need it to win; besides, I’ll be dancing with you. That makes all the difference.”
He winks at me and like a fool I gape at him. He’s flirting with you, Tessa, say something, do something. Stop looking at him like you want to jump his bones. Tell him how much he repulses you; tell him you’re not interested. Just do something!
“I got new curtains for my room,” I blurt out.
What in the name of fudgesicles is wrong with me? Curtains? Why, Tessa, Why?
“Do I make you nervous?” He sounds so smug that I want to hit him. It’s not nice that he wants to take advantage of my idiocy. I have to work on not letting myself get tongue-tied in front of him or he’ll think I’m just like every other girl in town. Though I can see now why they’re as attracted to him as they are. He’s gorgeous and he’s extremely aware of it.
“No, spending so much time with you is killing my brain cells, Stone.”
“That’s obviously because of all the time you spend staring at my airhead brother.” He gets up, making me think that he’s mad at me or something or that I’ve said the wrong thing. However, when he reaches for my purse, lying on the ground, I realize he’s up to something else entirely.
“You have your iPod in here?”
I get up and snatch my bag away from him.
“Haven’t you been told never to look through a lady’s purse?” I cringe at the sort of things he would find in here, my tampons being the worst.
“Where’s the lady?”
I kick his leg. “Just don’t touch my bag again,” I growl and hug the bag tightly to my side.
“Here.” I place my iPod on his waiting palm. He grins at me before wrapping his free arm around me and pulling me to his chest. The small action knocks the breath out of me and if he hadn’t been holding me I would have melted into a puddle on the ground.
“W-what are you doing?” I stumble a little as I cough out the words. His hooded eyes twinkle as he places the iPod in the front pocket of my jeans. One piece of the earphones goes in my ear and the other in his. I watch, absolutely hypnotized as he guides my arm to rest on his shoulder and interlinks our free hands so that they’re hovering in the air.
“I’m dancing with you, Tessie.”
Soft music begins to play as I fear the song that will follow it. I share my iPod with Megan since her mother won’t let her go near technology before college. Let’s just say my friend and I have starkly different tastes in music.
“Follow my lead,” Cole whispers as we begin to sway.
As the first verse starts I try my best to not focus on the lyrics. It’s a song I’ve listened to an embarrassingly high number of times. It’s about a guy telling her that he loves her because and not despite of her imperfections. Lyrics have meanings, words have power, and I can let myself be overwhelmed by all this.
“Loosen up, you’re too tense. “I nod at his instructions and copy his movements without ever looking into his eyes.
The words of the chorus hit home and my bottom lip begins to quiver. He’s holding me so close and so tight like he’d never let me go. Just when I’m thinking about letting go of him and running for my life, he removes our interlinked hands for the briefest of times. Tilting my chin up, his eyes bore into mine.
“You need to look at me.” His voice is husky and causes tremors to rock through me. “The judges need to buy what we’re trying to sell.”
Right, of course. We’re putting on an act because we need to win. I let out a deep breath, not as close to death by hyperventilation as I was minutes before. This is all about beating Nicole, nothing more.
“Now let’s try again and this time look at me, okay?”
His hand inches up from the small of my back, up my spine. It’s slow and sensual enough to make me squeeze my eyes shut. The stupid song isn’t helping; I need to tell Megan to stop putting all these sappy songs on my iPod!
“I’m going to lift you now, okay?”
“Please don’t throw me in the lake,” I say weakly.
He lets out a laugh before pulling me even more tightly against his chest.
“Don’t you trust me, Tessie?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
He rolls his eyes at that one. “I’m going to lift you anyway. You’re just going to have to learn to trust me.”
I snort at his claim. “Easier said than done, buddy. You tormented me for most of my life. I wouldn’t put killing me past your bucket list.”
He mutters something under his breath and I’m pretty sure it’s along the lines of “drama queen.” This is good, this is normal. Bickering, arguing, wanting to rip each other’s hair out is what we do best. Any lingering feelings might disrupt our awesome dynamic.
The second verse begins and without warning he hoists me up by the waist and in a matter of seconds my legs are dangling in the air as Cole moves us. The words that we hear in our individual earbuds now resonate all around us. With the way Cole’s looking at me and with the singer’s soft caressing voice, it’s just the most magical thing to ha
ve ever happened to me.
As he brings me down, slowly his hands move so as to grip my hips. The space between us is as much as the width of a hair. As my feet touch the ground, I find myself completely tangled in Cole. His arms around me, one leg in between mine, my hands gripping his shoulders fiercely, it’s surprising that there’s any space left between us.
His eyes zero in on my lips and I can’t even make sense of the way my heart is threatening to crash out of my chest. Every single part of me is aware of how close he is, this is it. Something that’s going to happen right this moment will change my life forever.
“Tessie,” Cole whispers as he leans into me. I find myself inching my face closer and closer . . .
A shrill buzzing sound ruins the peaceful silence of the night, making me feel like I’ve been drenched by ice-cold water. Cole curses silently and untangles us as I stumble away from him, nearly falling on my butt. My cell phone continues to ring and vibrate as I take it out from my back pocket with trembling hands.
“Hello?” I sound breathless, my voice is cracking and I feel like driving a nine-inch nail through the skull of whoever just called.
“Tessa, oh thank God. You need to come up to Megan’s right away, she’s having a meltdown and I don’t know what to do.”
Beth keeps on talking about how she’s worried about our friend or how she thinks Mrs. Sharp has finally pushed her daughter over the edge with her controlling behavior. I’m only half listening to her; my eyes linger on Cole’s back as he tosses pebbles into the water. From his tense posture I can tell he’s angry, or irritated at the very least.
We were going to kiss, that I was certain of. Had Beth not called, would we have finally done it?
“You there? Can you hear me?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”
I end the call and walk toward Cole, who notices my approaching footsteps and turns to face me. His expression gives nothing away; he seems like he always does; carefree, happy, and a tad bit crazy.
“Everything okay?”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Apparently Megan has an emergency. Can you drive me there?” Hopefully the drive from his house to Megan’s would give us a chance to talk.
We almost kissed, again. This demands some kind of serious attention, right? Isn’t that what grown-ups do, talk about stuff?
We walk in silence to his house with an awkward distance between us. It’s nerve-wracking to not have him babbling away or making fun of me. I want him to tell me that I dress funny or that my teeth are too big, anything insulting or outrageous would do. Anything but this terrible quietness. The time it takes us to get there is enough for my brain to go into hyperdrive, to analyze and then overanalyze. If I don’t stop thinking about the what-ifs, I’ll surely end up with the mother of all headaches. So I force myself to think about something mundane until we reach his house and get into his car. Cole has remained quiet beside me but I can almost feel the nervous energy bouncing off of him.
I strap myself into his Volvo as he revs the engine. Thinking of safe topics for conversation I begin by something which obviously can do no wrong—boosting his ego.
“So where’d you learn to dance like that?”
“Cassandra taught us when her sister was getting married. Jay and I must’ve been about ten.” He smiles at the memory and I can imagine a ten-year-old Cole with his gangly frame, learning how to slow dance.
“Obviously Jay wasn’t a very good learner.” We both chuckle thinking about how bad of a dancer the other Stone is. Nicole’s yelps are heard throughout the gym whenever there’s a dance.
“Cassandra gave up trying to teach him after she got blisters all over her feet. Let’s just say, my brother might be many things but he’s definitely not a good dancer.”
“You got that right.” I snort and he grins at me. All at once the awkwardness vanishes and we go back to being ourselves. All it takes is dissing Jay a little and honestly, I don’t even mind that right now.
We park outside Megan’s house smack-dab in boring old suburbia. “Thanks for the ride, I’d ask you to come in but I fear what Mrs. Sharp could do to you.”
I remove my seatbelt and climb out of the car. I’m halfway up their porch when I hear footsteps behind me and not surprisingly Cole right behind me. The only difference is that he’s holding a large gift box with a silver ribbon on it.
“What’s this?” I ask nervously and watch him once again scratch the back of his neck.
“Look, I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you or anything but . . .”
“What is it? Why do you sound so scared?” My laugh sounds fake to my own ears as I eye the box warily.
“I know you were having trouble finding a dress and since you don’t want to look like a disco ball wearing your mom’s, I got you this.” He thrusts the box toward me shyly, like a little boy offering his teacher an apple on the first day of kindergarten. Though if I remember correctly, poor Mrs. Grisham got a whole jar full of earthworms from her least favorite pupil that fateful day.
“You bought me a dress?” I gasp as I grab hold of the heavy box. How much did the thing weigh?
“Technically Cassandra helped me pick it out but I think you’ll like it. If you don’t you can always return it. I mean I’m not going to force you to wear it, it’s not like I know a lot about dresses. Cassandra said you would like it and I thought it would look good on you. I swear it’s not important that you . . .”
He’s rambling. Oh gosh, he looks so cute when he’s all caught up and nervous and rambling. I’ve never ever seen him lose his calm like this and boy, is it adorable. Without thinking I place my hand over his mouth.
“Shut up, Cole.”
When I’m sure he’s not going to start talking again, I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his cheek. Applying the slightest pressure, I let them linger there for about five seconds before moving away. The dazed and starstruck look on Cole’s face is worth braving my fears.
“Thank you, I’m sure I’ll love it,” I whisper before backing off and walking away.
“You’re welcome, shortcake! Though I do accept Swedish massages as tokens of affection,” he yells as I’m nearly in the house.
“Only in your dreams, Stone,” I whisper yell, not wanting to scandalize Mrs. Sharp. He winks at me before going back into his car. Before driving away he blows me a kiss and I stand there watching him leave thinking about how much he’s changed, how much we’ve changed. The difference is staggering.
Chapter Fourteen: I’m As Smooth As Chunky Peanut Butter
The last time I’d been asked to act was in the seventh grade. We were putting on a performance of Romeo and Juliet and I was asked to play the Nurse. It made sense at the time, with my weight and my Lane Bryant clothes I was the perfect fit. However, my fifteen minutes of fame came crashing down when I took one look at the crowd. My parents were sitting in the front row, my mom had been waving more than enthusiastically at me, my dad had an encouraging expression on his face while my brother made funny faces.
Glory never came to me, though, and you wouldn’t have been able to unfreeze me with a blowtorch. The girl playing Juliet had tried her best to work around me. She’d made up random gibberish, dialogues Shakespeare would never claim to be his own, but it had worked. I’d stumbled off stage earning a death glare from my drama teacher and all the Montagues and Capulets. It took a while for it to hit me and then came the embarrassment, a whole lot of it. I was so terribly afraid of the reactions that I knew would come that I hid in the costume closet for the rest of the show.
However, when I came out, things were even more chaotic than when I’d left. Turns out, our Romeo had decided to add his own twist to the tale and had refused to kiss Juliet, claiming that her braces grossed him out. He’d then proceeded to grab Marsha White, the cutest girl in our grade, who was playing Juliet’s mother and kissed her smack on the lips. It caused quite the uproar.
Cole had been Romeo.
Now when I t
hink about it, I wonder if he did it to take away the attention from me. It wouldn’t be surprising, not with the way our relationship has done a one-eighty. If I start thinking about it, I’m sure I’ll find a valid reason behind everything he’s done so far. Though it’s not something I’m ready to do right now.
“They’re here.” Cole sticks his head through the door of the supply room at Rusty’s. He’s excited, with eyes like an open book, it’s not that hard to tell. I can tell that he is in his element, scheming and plotting. This is what he does best and he’s finally getting his chance to do it. All at once the three of us spring into action as his head disappears. I straighten my apron and grab the bread basket.
“Time for action, ladies; remember, Megan, you can’t come out. No matter what happens, your parents shouldn’t find out that you were here.” Beth has sprung into manager mode. She knows the two of us are hopeless when it comes to anything that involves an extended amount of lying. I’ve asked Rusty to let her work some shifts this week, just so that she could help us today.
“Okay,” she agrees in a meek voice but I can see how badly she’s shaking. She’s nervous, we all are, but this is what she wants but is too weak to actually ask for it herself.
I take a deep breath and get ready to put on a performance of a lifetime. Beth is already out the door, seating Mr. and Mrs. Sharp. Cole must already be schmoozing the life out of them and Alex . . . poor, poor Alex.
“You think this is going to work?” the anxiety-ridden redhead asks me and I put on my most reassuring smile.
“Of course it will.”
On the inside I keep going back to the thirteen-year-old girl who choked and choked badly. Mr. and Mrs. Sharp are the epitome of white-collar douches, no offense to my best friend. They’re both lawyers and are partners at a prestigious firm. In their books, if you’re not rich or powerful then you might as well be dead. Suffice it to say, they love me. It sickens me to have them gushing over me, ignoring their own daughter in the process, but today that’s about to be mighty useful.
