by Mary Whitney
“Well, it creeps me out. I’m not sure what I’m writing about, but it definitely won’t be about those two.”
At the lockers after class, I heard Adam ask, “Why, Nicki?”
“Why what?” Adam had talked to me so little lately that I was startled simply by his voice. A vague question like that made me even more flustered.
As he leaned against his locker, I noticed how his green shirt contrasted with his eyes, and my heart sped ahead of my mind. He looked at me thoughtfully and asked, “Why would you write about those two characters? That’s a grim topic.”
Closing my locker door, I stared straight into his brown eyes that always seemed to melt away my walls. I sighed, as they’d done it again. “Remember when I told you that Scout reminded me of my sister? Well, I…I don’t want to have to write about Scout. And she’s interwoven with all the other characters. I can write about Bob and Mayella and avoid everything about her.”
Adam nodded. “That makes sense.” Not breaking his gaze, he asked, “How are things? We haven’t talked for a while. I’m sorry I’ve not been myself.” Afterward, he swallowed hard enough that I could see his Adam’s apple move.
Whenever he was so direct and honest with me, I always bumbled through my thoughts out loud. This time was no exception. “What? How am I?” It came out sounding like I was also asking why he cared.
“Yes, how are you, Nicki?” he asked again with a small laugh.
Nobody had asked me that in a while. A pang of sadness hit my heart. What should I say? I didn’t understand why he was asking now or why I was reacting the way I was. Instinctively, I went with the safe answer. “I’m fine.”
But his eyes seemed so intent on me. Looking straight into them, I felt my throat close as I tried to answer. Thinking of the pain that hadn’t changed, I cringed.
“Everything is the same. It’s all the same.” I looked down and whispered, “I wish it wasn’t, but it is.”
Even as I bit my tongue, I couldn’t stop myself from saying something more—something I wouldn’t have said if he were still dating Meredith. I wanted to see if he really meant what he’d said about wanting us to start over. Raising my head to look into his eyes again, I confessed, “I do want to talk to you, but I can’t…not yet.”
Even though I had just put myself out there, I felt more at ease after I’d said it—probably because I felt every word of it.
I watched Adam’s expression transform from one of intense sincerity to the same flirty smile that he’d had at church Sunday. He leaned in closer to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll wait for you.”
He’ll wait for me? What does that mean? I thought about how mentally nutso I was. He might be waiting for a very long time. That made me giggle, which was good because I was tense. My entire body was fully aware that Adam Kincaid’s hand was on it.
Still smiling, he squeezed my shoulder. “Why are you laughing?”
I shook my head. “No, no reason. It’s…it’s nothing.” I gripped my books for some psychological leverage, as at that moment I personified a stammering idiot.
“I like it when you laugh.” With that, he gently squeezed my shoulder again. His hand then followed the length of my arm all the way to my wrist before dropping at his side. The movement was so quick and light that most people wouldn’t have noticed it, but to me it was slow and strong. Then he gave his locker a tap and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Nicki.”
“Sure…Have a good night.”
Autopilot took over for my brain as I turned and walked home, and I remained that way for the rest of the night. I ate dinner, talked with Mom, watched TV, and even did homework, but the entire time I was totally engrossed in replaying the few sentences I had exchanged with Adam and remembering how he’d touched my arm. What it all meant, I wasn’t sure. I could have called Lisa or Rachel and analyzed every last word and movement, but I was afraid to. While I wanted it to all mean something, I didn’t want to get my hopes up.
My hopes only got higher and higher, though. The next morning after we got our books, he asked, “Shall we go into class now?”
I was stunned. He wanted to walk into class with me?
For the rest of the week, Adam and I chatted whenever we had a moment together. It was obvious now that both of us were going out of our way to be together. We met up at our lockers between every class and arrived earlier and stayed later at school than we used to. Things were different between us, with very little awkwardness, and we easily talked. He was charming and interesting, and even though we were from such different places, we seemed to have a lot to discuss. Most of all, he made me laugh, more than I had in months.
And as the week progressed, we had more fun together. I played stupid tricks on him, like whenever he was working at opening his locker, I would whisper random numbers to him. It never failed to elicit this silly, adorable giggle of his while he screwed up the combination. To get me back, he was constantly looking over my shoulder and teasing me about something I had written or something in my locker or bag.
Occasionally, he could make me blush, which he took a lot of pride in, always pointing it out to me. After one especially intense teasing session on Thursday afternoon that left me flaming red, I said, “You know, teasing can be a form of torture.”
“Then I’d say we’re equal.” He leaned against his locker.
“How so?”
“Because you’ve been bloody torturing me for weeks and weeks now.”
“What do you mean?” It might have seemed I was playing coy, but I honestly had no idea what he was talking about.
My lungs forgot to breathe as my entire focus went to his face inching toward mine. He was close enough to kiss me, but he didn’t. Instead, he whispered, “You are far too clever and beautiful a girl not to understand.”
I sucked in some air, and I swore I could taste his breath on mine. Being that close to him ignited something inside me. “If it’s what I think it is, then the feeling is mutual.”
“Good.” The flirty, crooked smile appeared again on his face. “That makes me happy.”
After that incident, I spent Thursday night wondering if he was going to ask me out. I knew Tom was going to be out of town, so there wasn’t a convenient movie or party for us to see each other at.
On Friday morning, we were chatting before economics when he asked, “So what are you doing this weekend?”
Finally, I thought. He’s going to ask me out. “Not much. Nothing is going on, and I’ve got a paper to write. How about you?”
“I had to write mine this week because we’re going to Austin this weekend. My dad needs to meet a colleague at the University of Texas, so we’re making a family trip out of it. We’re leaving after lunch today.”
I was bummed there would be no date, but I smiled at how he’d said “University of Texas.” Anybody from Texas just called it UT, but with his accent it sounded regal. “Your father is a geologist, right?”
“Yes, at Cambridge. He’s here consulting for some oil companies.”
“Finding the right spots to drill?”
“Yes, so that they don’t cock up the earth any more than they do already.”
“That’s a noble goal.” I grinned. “So he’s a professor? Has he stopped teaching?”
“He’s on sabbatical.” He inhaled like he was fixing to make an announcement. “We’re only here for a year. We’ll be going back home after the end of term.”
At once, I did the math—basically, six months. Adam was leaving in six months. I would never see him again in six months. That wasn’t a long time at all. Lauren had died almost six months before, but it felt like yesterday.
My eyes widened. What in the world am I doing with him? I was only going to get hurt. But who was I kidding? I was already hurt. And I couldn’t hide it.
“Oh,” I said flatly.
His forehead wrinkled. “Nicki, I’m sorry. I thought you knew.” Then he shook his head. “No. That’s not true. I hop
ed you already knew and that it didn’t matter.”
“It’s okay. It’s not a big deal.” I bit my lip, which I soon realized was pretty much an international sign of not being okay. He got the signal immediately.
“No, it isn’t okay.” He cleared his throat and continued, “After everything you’ve been through this year, I’ll understand if you don’t want…” He grimaced and stopped. I waited for him to say something else, but he remained quiet.
If there was one thing I had learned from Lauren’s death, it was how to be nonchalant—how to give a blank stare as if I didn’t care when in reality I really, really did. So I did just that. I shrugged my shoulders, too, as if it was water rolling off my back. “I don’t know.”
Neither of us said a word, but our silence broke as the bell rang. I felt like it was tolling the end of the conversation and whatever burgeoning relationship we might have had. “We should go in,” I said reluctantly.
Adam nodded toward the door, but he was uneasy. He looked like he still wanted to talk. I didn’t, though. I skipped going to my locker for the rest of the morning until I knew he had left for the day. I had told him that I didn’t know what I wanted, but I did.
There was no way I was getting close to someone I liked as much as him when he was just going to leave. Lauren was gone forever. I wasn’t going to be abandoned again—at least not knowingly.
I was depressed. For the rest of the day, I did everything to hide it from Lisa and Rachel, but they could tell something was up. Lisa even commented I seemed glum. I told her that I had hit a rough patch with Mom about Lauren. That kept her from asking any more. It was easy to blame Lauren’s death for being down because I wasn’t lying. That sadness was a constant.
I thought about what Lauren might say to my using her death as an excuse for moping over a guy. I could just hear her grumble, “Don’t blame me for something stupid you did.” It made me smile—the only thing that did all weekend.
Chapter 12
ON MONDAY MORNING, Adam was waiting for me at the locker, even though I was breezing in with only a minute to spare. He was really chipper, and I was friendly, but nothing like I’d been the week before. Over the last couple months, I’d learned my lesson with that guy. I had played with fire more than once, and I got burned each time. No more playing with matches.
At first he seemed a little hurt when I wouldn’t respond to his teasing. That afternoon before English began, he asked, “So how was the book the second time around?”
“Honestly, I have never been able to read the book again. I…”
“You, okay, Nicki?” he asked hesitantly.
His face was full of concern. It was another kind invitation to talk. Fuck it again, I thought as I gave in. “I’m a little worried about having to watch the movie in here today.”
“I think you should just bunk off. You won’t miss anything.”
Huh? What did “bunk off” mean? It sounded like a circle jerk at a boys’ camp, but that couldn’t be it. What if it did mean something sexual, though? I wasn’t up for a conversation like that with Adam. But his expression didn’t change, so I think sex wasn’t really the context he’d meant.
I shrugged. “I should watch the movie and get it over with.”
All those things about Scout that reminded me of Lauren really don’t come out in the beginning of the movie, so I was doing just fine. Then there was the scene where Scout talks with Jem about their mother, who had died a few years earlier. I felt the tears coming, but I didn’t want to give in and leave class. I didn’t want to be like Mom and just put it all away in a box to be looked at maybe someday, maybe never. Yet, I also didn’t want to display all of my emotions for my whole fucking class. I decided the easiest thing to do was put my head down and close my eyes.
I didn’t want to look at Adam, so I faced Lisa. She was watching the movie, so she didn’t see me. I still had to listen to the words, but having my eyes closed helped a lot. I ended up falling asleep.
I woke up to the lights and to Lisa’s grin. “I can’t believe you even fell asleep watching a movie in class. You’re ridiculous. What do you do on a date?”
My eyes blinked at the light as I stretched and smiled. “I try not to fall asleep on dates.”
At the lockers after class, Adam chuckled. “So are you going to catch up on your sleep over the next few days?”
“Well, it worked, didn’t it? I don’t think it’s such a bad idea.”
Adam looked at me quizzically for a moment. “Do you want—”
“I don’t think so.” It came out curt and sharp. I had no idea what he might have been asking me, but the outcome could only be bad. I almost added, because I don’t want to get destroyed in the process, but he gave a nod as if he understood. I couldn’t tell if he really did, so I wanted to acknowledge that he’d tried to be nice. “Thanks, though. See you tomorrow.”
The rest of the week, Adam was withdrawn again. He must have gotten the picture.
Despite the fact that I knew Adam would be there, I went to Tom’s on Friday because he was doing it up that night for The Godfather. He was cooking spaghetti and had been talking about it for weeks.
As soon as I entered Tom’s living room, I found a single recliner where Adam couldn’t sit by me; I didn’t want to be awkward and uncomfortable for the whole night. When Adam walked in the room, he looked at me and then walked over to an empty space on the sofa and settled in. Good. Everyone was in the right place.
But after our spaghetti intermission, I went back to the recliner and found Lance there.
“Sorry, Nicki. Finders keepers.”
“I’ll remember this.” I looked for another spot, and there was Adam moving over for me.
“Come and sit by me. You can have the arm end.”
With no other option, I acquiesced. “Sure.” Must act calm, cool, and collected. I sat down next to him as Tom started the movie again. I was once again incredibly aware of the precise property lines between Adam’s and my personal space.
Luckily, I had a pillow to my right on the armrest that I could lean into and away from him. The pasta was sitting in my stomach like dead weight, bringing my eyelids down with it. As I was about to close my eyes and lean my head to my right, I caught Adam’s eye. He wore a little smirk.
The theme music eventually filled the room, but I clung to my sleep. I was warm and cozy, yet after a while, I forced my eyes open. They widened even more as they registered that only millimeters away was the plaid fabric of Adam’s shirt. My heart felt like it stopped, and it stayed stopped as I realized that my head was on his shoulder while my body was curled beside him with my hand on his chest. I felt his right arm around my back and his hand resting on my side. Oh my God. What had I done? I jerked up.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry. How embarrassing.” That was the understatement of all understatements.
“Why? It was nice,” he said with a grin as he started slightly rubbing my back.
Nice? Horrifying! I’d literally thrown myself at him. My subconscious had taken over my physical being. I could feel my cheeks become fiery hot. I had to know what happened. “How did I get over here?”
“You were restless in your sleep and curled into me, so I put my arm around you. After that, you slept soundly.”
What could I say to that? I then remembered there were about ten other people in the room who’d seen me sleeping on him. I was mortified. I couldn’t think of a response that wouldn’t make me an even bigger idiot than I already was. “Thanks. I promise I’ll stick to my side next time.”
In front of everyone, Adam moved his right hand up to my hair and smoothed it off of my face. He wore a small smile as he said quietly, “Please don’t.”
God, I wanted to kiss him, but I thought better of it. I looked over at Lisa who was smiling at me, albeit a little suspiciously. What world had I woken up to? Adam didn’t mind me sleeping on him? Lisa was smiling at me being close to him?
When I looked back at Adam, he aske
d, “Can I give you a lift you home?”
“Sure. Thanks.” For a split second, I wondered if I was dreaming, because I was not acting rationally.
As we got ready to leave, thankfully no one made any snarky comments. Rachel simply said her usual, “I’ll call you tomorrow.” Lisa nodded. And Tom was busy feeding Helga her dinner. He said to Adam, “See you after the break. Have a good trip.” I wondered what that meant.
I was beyond nervous as Adam let me in his car. I needed to break the ice, so I asked him about the movie. He did some talking, which, if ever asked what he said, I would have never been able to repeat. I was too overwhelmed with the situation. I’m sure I sat there with my mouth open looking like a total dork.
When we got to my house, Adam cut the engine and smiled. “So are you going to tell me again that I can’t walk you to your door?”
“Maybe,” I said, returning his smile.
“Because this isn’t a date?” He moved his hand to my hair.
“It’s not a date because I try not to fall asleep on dates, especially literally on my date.”
He laughed and continued to stroke with my hair. “I believe I overheard you saying something like that at the start of the week.”
The conversation was light, but his fingers in my hair felt emotionally heavy. “I did,” I whispered.
“Nicki,” he said, his voice more serious, “about me leaving…I know it’s complete shit, but please realize I’m taking a risk here, too.”
I looked down. Guilt only added to the awkwardness of the situation. “I guess you are.”
When I raised my head, he was moving toward me, and I instinctively leaned into him to meet his lips. The kiss began so softly, but sweet and nice didn’t seem to be what I really wanted. I opened up my mouth to his, and our tongues met for the first time. After a moment, he murmured, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”
