by Sarah Tork
I leaned closer to his face. “You have to close your eyes.”
He closed his eyes and I leaned the rest of the way and licked the tip of his nose. I jumped away before his eyes popped open, but his arms stretched out, easily capturing me.
“Ew, and I’m the gross one?” Tom grinned, pulling me on top of him as he rested back down.
“Duh.” I grinned, holding on to his shoulders and resting my weight on the lower half of my legs. “Why am I on top of you like this?”
“Because I’m cuddly,” Tom said, grabbing my waist and pulling me down so I was sitting on top of him, on his stomach to be exact. Not on another place….
“What?” I gulped, loving how we were interacting with one another. “No, well you are kind of nice to hold.”
“Cuddly Tom is in the house.” Tom grinned, letting go of my waist and folding his arms behind his head.
“Were you really sad earlier?” I asked, leaning down to be closer to his face.
“I was fucked-up. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. This has happened so many times,” Tom confessed, looking tired and as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. I guess taking care of his mother’s feelings was more taxing than I thought.
“There was nobody to help you feel better, like, let’s say a hot girl?” I suggested.
“If I shut my brain off,” Tom paused for a second and then continued, “and if I were fourteen, crazy, and horny again….”
“Honestly?” I asked, feeling a nasty fire grow in my throat. The jealousy I was feeling shouldn’t have surprised me, I was an intense person to say the least.
“Yeah, but definitely not now,” Tom declared. “Those girls are for looking only.”
“Just looking?” I asked, feeling the jealous fire weaken.
“Before, but not now. I’ve got what I’ve wanted for a while now.” Tom caressed the side of my face, smiling sweetly.
“What’s a while?” I asked.
“Since the beginning of the eleventh grade,” Tom confessed.
“What!” I shrieked. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Would you trust me if I said it was a weird time before and I couldn’t?” Tom asked.
“A weird time?” I asked.
Tom nodded. “Yeah.”
“Something fucked-up?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Tom answered.
“Well now I’m curious. Were you scared for your life?” I asked.
“Yeah, silly. I was scared for my life,” Tom said.
“Because if you’re still scared… I can protect you. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I run a hell of a popular security program. I’ve been on patrol since the first day of school.” I grinned, pointing at myself.
“You want to protect me, silly?” Tom grinned, raising his eyebrows.
“Yeah, someone’s got to and besides, you belong to me. I’m possessive like that, by the way.” I felt like my heart was pounding like crazy telling him this. I was laying down the claim, officially. He was mine, only mine.
“Speaking of being possessive, I’ve been holding back,” Tom confessed.
“Holding back from doing what?” I asked, leaning closer to his face.
“Hugging you in the middle of the hallway, lifting you, kissing you, showing every jerk off at school they shouldn’t even look at you.” Tom’s eyes turned hard and possessive, a penetrating stare that screamed you’re mine and no one else’s.
“Or else what?” My breathing turned rough.
“They’ll have to face Big Tom,” Tom said quietly, slowly. He meant it.
“So you’re going to fight for your woman?” I smiled.
“Fight, get angry, go mental. I know it’s fast, but I feel, feel with you, silly,” Tom stated, practically growling his conviction.
The heart pounding accelerated inside me. I caressed the side of his jaw, circling around his lips like they belonged to me. “Well, I feel, feel with you too, Big Tom. And I have those emotions down pat. Don’t know if you’ve seen, but it’s pretty much a daily ritual for me. I’m Jenna ‘Crazy’ Sabini. Happy to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Tom said, tone serious. He grabbed my hand away from the vicinity of his lips and curled his fingers over mine, palm to palm, squeezing, massaging my finger joints to a point where my mind, my heart, and my body felt like they were about to burst.
“That’s so cheesy,” I said, trying to keep control, trying to keep who I was in check because I needed to stay in control no matter how much I wanted to let loose and give in to everything I felt sitting on top of him, fully clothed.
“Damn it, thought that line would have worked.” Tom grinned, squeezing my hand again.
“Work for what?” I jerked my chin back.
“For this.” Tom dived in for another kiss. Sweet kisses transitioned to hard, breathless kisses. I had choices, lots of them. But, I wasn’t ready despite my body screaming, pleading to let things happen as they may. But it wasn’t the right time. So I pulled away and hugged him tightly, resting my face against his chest.
“I like it like this,” I whispered.
He sighed, sounding content instead of annoyed. “Me too, silly. Me too.”
Forty minutes later, I arrived home.
“Turn the radio up, this is my song,” Dad yelled from across the kitchen. As I entered, the volume to “Monster Mash” by Bobby “Boris” Pickett was increased. Dad began doing this shaking thing with his hips.
“Come on,” he urged Mom, grabbing her hips. “Remember, just like old times. This is our song. Do the mashed potato with me, come on.”
“I am not that old!” Mom screeched, trying to pull away. “We’re eating dinner now, stop it.”
“Shake it, baby!” Dad hollered, doing I guess what was the mashed potato. “Look at me, I still got it!”
Mom pulled away, shaking her head as she opened the cupboard and pulled out plates. “Don’t listen to him, Jenna. We’re not that old. I was a baby when that song came out.”
“Sure, Mom.” I laughed, stopping at the counter.
“And where were you, young lady?” Dad grinned, dancing to a halt in front of the kitchen table, not moving his hips anymore.
“Out to see my boyfriend; I needed a hug,” I informed them. My parents looked at one another and burst out laughing.
I wasn’t surprised. I would have laughed too if I weren’t me.
“That was a good one,” Dad said at the end of his deep belly laugh. There was a pizza box in front of him. “Come and eat, the pizza’s from Uncle Frank’s first ex-wife’s brother, Ralphy. He opened up a new pizza place a few weeks ago. He still has a good relationship with Frank and brought over ten pizzas. Oh yeah, scored a pizza tonight!”
“I need to tell you guys something,” I said as Dad popped open the pizza box lid.
“Uh-oh, why don’t we like the sound of that?” Mom said, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
“Because it’s not going to be good,” I said, taking a seat beside her.
“Define not good?” Dad asked, humorless.
I gave them both a timid smile. “Not good, as in, not getting a scholarship to Florida State.”
*~*~*
*TOM*
The pool deck stretched out miles deep, lost behind the blinding glare of the horizon. Crystal clear water lay calm beyond the narrow deck. I shut my eyes, wiping them and then opening them expecting to be the only one here, but standing meters away in the pool looking the same as the last time I saw him was my father.
“Dive in, son.” My ex-hero waved me over, but I stood still on the pool deck, shivering at ice-cold water turning my feet blue. “Dive in, my boy. Join me. Join your father and we’ll swim across together.”
“But I can’t,” I cried, the coldness creeping up my leg. “Not like you can. Time ran out.”
“Come here,” my dad yelled, splashing water at me. “I promised I’d teach you and now I will.”
Thunder struck fer
ociously, breaking the entire fog of my nightmare. I gasped awake, holding my chest where my heart raced, sounding like a brick moving up and down on a drum. Cold sweat dripped down my head and over my pillow. I got up and turned my pillow over and grabbed my phone. I wanted to call Jenna, but that was a bad idea. Our relationship had a rocky start, what if my neediness overwhelmed her? Or worse…. annoyed her?
I thought about it some more and made a decision. I felt like our relationship went beyond the typical high school one where it was all about looks and who we hung out with. She was important to me, and if she had a problem and wanted to call or text me in the middle of the night, or hell…want to see me I’d be there for her no matter what, just like I had earlier when she came over. But she had serious problems that involved her future, and my problem was just a nightmare.
I shook my head. Knowing who she was and why I fell for her in the first place, Jenna wasn’t the type to get mad at a friend, and now a boyfriend, when in need, no matter what. Including the trials of post nightmare stress.
Tom: You awake?
Jenna: Big Tom, you do realize it’s like two in the morning?
Tom: I had a bad dream
Jenna: Eek! That sucks majorly.
Tom: Yeah. It fucked me up.
Jenna: Shit. Take a deep breath and relax. Then think about something that makes you laugh. That should erase all bad nightmare vibes. I’ve got a list of things that will most definitely set you down the path of cheerfulness.
Tom: I’m open to suggestion.
Jenna: Clowns, our history teacher breakdancing, Donna Tallins juggling peanuts and counting backwards from ten, Latisha with toilet paper stuck to her shoe, Roy, Peter and James dancing ballet in pink tights and a leotard. LOL!
Tom: That last one might actually scare me more than my nightmare. LOL!
Jenna: You laughed didn’t you?
Tom: I did.
Jenna: Then mission completed? What’s the vibe prognosis now, major Tom?
Tom: We’re at fifty percent, captain!
Jenna: Damn it, I need a hundred percent before I can even fathom going back to sleep. Okay, wait a sec. I have another idea!
I waited a minute before my phone buzzed with an incoming text, but it wasn’t a text, it was a photo. My heart slowed, one long beat at a time. The pit of my stomach felt queasy, like there were butterflies. The photo cleared and an entire colony of butterflies took refuge in my belly, because damn, how’d I get so lucky. I caressed the screen of my phone and the picture magnified automatically. Jenna had sent me a selfie of her, half asleep, half smiling, wild sexy bed hair, lying on her bed with a sea of pillows behind her head. God, she was beautiful….
Jenna: Well… how about now?
Tom: 100%, baby. Thank you.
Jenna: Then I bid you goodnight. Sweet dreams for eternity.
CHAPTER 9
*JENNA*
Thursday November 8, 2012
“So, Jenna, what would you like to talk about today?” Mrs. Carlisle asked. She was one of three guidance counselors at Royal Heights High. I made the appointment earlier today. The only time available was during lunch. It seemed many other kids were in need of help today. I needed someone to help steer me on the right path now that Florida State University was out of the picture.
“I’m screwed,” I mumbled. No more of a perfect word to describe my current situation than those particular words.
Her jaw dropped, but she quickly snapped it closed. “I highly doubt that.”
“You don’t get it. I am. I’m not going to get the scholarship to Florida State University. They’re giving it to someone else,” I explained, leaning into the seat.
“How do you know?” she asked.
“I have my sources,” I answered, not wanting to rat out Coach just in case she’d violated some sort of trust.
“Who’s getting this beloved scholarship then?” she asked.
“Some girl from, I don’t know, I think she’s from Argentina. She’s got arms faster than twenty fins, and is able to hold her breath underwater long enough to pay property tax. She’s amazing, and… so yeah, I’m screwed,” I stated.
“No, you’re not. This is life. You get knocked down, you pick yourself back up and try again.”
I snorted. “Ugh, not that speech again. I already heard it enough times from my parents.”
Mrs. Carlisle leaned back into her seat. “Did you tell them?”
The conversation I had with my parents after I got home from Tom’s house was one of the most nerve-wracking moments of my life. Thankfully they were chill about the whole thing.
Well, kind of chill about it.
As good a reaction as I could have hoped for.
I was expecting Dad to throw the pizza at the wall and for Mom to fall to the ground and cry a flood of tears. But I was wrong. Yes, life was unfair, but nobody knew that better than them.
“Right away.” I nodded slowly.
“Were they disappointed?” she asked.
“Yeah, but they said they’d try and think of another way to help me pay for school,” I explained, repositioning my leg.
“Are you worried you won’t get in also? Because I’ve checked your grades, they’re good. You should have no problem getting into your program. English Literature major, right?”
I smirked. “You got that right. I’m a poet.”
“Do you believe that?” she asked, staring intently at me. She was starting to freak me out.
I just shrug. “Kind of, I mean yeah I do, I have to.”
“Let me ask you something, what career do you want?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I guess I never thought of anything but swimming in college and hopefully getting scouted for team USA, but I’m not even good enough to get a scholarship, so all that’s off the table. I have no idea.” I sighed, feeling defeated beyond repair.
Maybe I could major in failing, you know, since I seem to be doing so well at it lately.
And the award for biggest failure, no future in sight, drumroll please… Jenna “The Crasher, The Burner” Sabini! Children, take notes, this here is the visual description of what not to do in high school.
“Well let’s figure it out,” Mrs. Carlisle chirped. “What are your interests?”
By golly, this woman was staring at me with a twinkle in her eye. Did she figure out what this life thing was all about in the last ten seconds?
And if so, I’d take it.
“Swimming, swimming pools, fighting against evil ‘hot’ girls who think they can get whatever they want because someone told them a long time ago that if you show your thong outside your jeans, you’re golden. Oh, and lest I forget, fighting for the small guy. I’m sort of the resident vigilante here.” I grinned and gave myself a pat on the shoulder, because hey, I deserved at least some recognition.
She cleared her throat and gave me that nervous full-toothed smile. “Well, that’s… an interesting set of skills. I’m sure there’s something that’ll grab your interest.”
*~*~*
*JENNA*
“How’d the meeting with the guidance counselor go?” Mom asked, grabbing a shopping cart on our way into Hal’s Grocery Store. “Grab a flyer,” she ordered me while wringing the umbrella out and placing it inside the cart.
I grabbed a flyer and returned to her side as she wheeled the contraption by fifty thousand people also trying to make their way inside.
“Yeah, it went, it went…. I’m not inspired or anything if that’s what you’re asking. I’m down in the dumps,” I explained.
“Let’s head to the produce aisle. There’s a sale on apples. Hells yeah.” Mom grinned, pushing the cart. “No worries, you’ll eventually feel better. My darling, you’re the best. Those scouts may be infatuated with that other girl, but you’ll be on the team anyway and they’ll see. They’ll see you.”
“What about the money?” I sighed, sticking my hands into the pockets of my rain jacket.
“I’m sure you can g
et a student loan. I’m sure of it,” Mom said. “Oh, look, there’s a sale on cucumbers too! Move, my darling speedsters, cucumbers needeth catching.”
“Are you watching Chronicles of Mortals Lost again?” I laughed, trying to keep up behind her.
“Binge-watched the third season about a week ago,” Mom stated, burning mad rubber with the cart. “Oh, you want to have a TV night tonight? Wait, what am I asking you for, I own you. My way is the highway. Tonight is TV night!”
I laughed and headed down to the produce aisle for some apples and cucumbers.
Later that night, after eating this weird vegetable stew Mom concocted after watching the food channel, we all sat in front of our fifty-five-inch flat-screen television with the remote in Mom’s hand. She turned on our TV and exactly seven minutes later….
“Mom….” I shivered, hiding behind a throw pillow.
Dad cleared his throat with a hand on his heart. “Natalie, what the hell? Out of all the movies you could choose, you picked a slasher movie? You know I can’t watch these kinds of movies. I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
Mom let out an exasperated sigh and turned the volume up.
Dad sunk further into the couch, grabbing another throw pillow and using it as a shield like I was. The movie had only been on for ten minutes, but the scene playing had the main actress walking into a barn, leaving the door open, with the killer walking in behind her with a machete.
