Beside Your Heart

by Mary Whitney

  “Um…yeah. It is.” I didn’t add that I wouldn’t mind being pinned against the wall by his hips again—appropriate or not.

  It felt like everything had changed between Adam and me that day. Of course, I still had that heady feeling just being around him; I doubted that would ever end. But with the boyfriend/girlfriend pronouncement, everything became more comfortable. Adam seemed happier and less cautious when he spoke to me. And I felt like I could be more myself around him, rather than being on guard the whole time. I also stopped trying to second-guess him so much, especially about Kate. It no longer felt like the other shoe was about to drop.

  On Thursday, my heart and stomach were aflutter as Adam and I walked into my house right after school. As I’d predicted, Mom had confirmed that morning she would be gone until ten. So there we were. No parents or Sylvia, no friends, and not outside in a car. We would be all by ourselves for six hours.

  Adam and I got some Cokes and were standing in the kitchen talking. There was a natural pause in the conversation when he asked, “Will you show me your room? I’m curious to see what it’s like.”

  “Okay.” I smiled, trying to remember it was a normal request.

  The moment he saw my room, he said, “This is cool.”

  I had tidied it up that morning, but the walls remained fully covered in newspaper articles, photographs, posters, and general crap. He walked around studying and reading, eventually asking, “How long did it take you to cover the walls?”

  “I don’t know, maybe a year or so.”

  “Brilliant. It’s interesting. Do you put up whatever takes your fancy?”

  “Pretty much. Mom hates it, but that just makes it more fun.”

  Adam then turned to my music. First, he glanced at my CDs, then he zoned in on all my old vinyl. He thumbed through a stack of records, which appeared to pass muster. “You’ve got some good stuff.”

  Walking around the room again, he nodded toward the bathroom door. “A loo off of your room. That’s handy.” He peered in and then looked back at me. “That other door can’t lead out to the hall. What’s through there?”

  I gulped. “That’s Lauren’s room…or was Lauren’s room.”

  “Oh.” Adam’s face became serious. “I’m sorry. Nicki, I…”

  “Oh, no. Don’t worry about it.” On impulse, I announced, “I’ll show it to you. There’s nothing in there.”

  Adrenaline from courage or stupidity took over, and I led him into the bathroom. Lauren’s door let out that same crack as the last time I had walked in. The new-paint smell had only faded slightly. Adam’s face remained somber. He didn’t say anything, but suddenly the words flew out of me.

  “I don’t like it.” I sighed. “My grandmother—Mom’s mom—did this. I hate it, really.”

  I didn’t cry as I spoke, but Adam immediately pulled me to him, and we sat on the floor in the middle of the room. It felt so safe in his arms that everything spilled out of me.

  I told him all about my nutty family—about how Grandma Stuart had boxed up Lauren’s life and hid it out of sight up in the attic; how Mom was so loco herself that she hadn’t thought twice about me when Grandma had done it; how Dad had been thoughtful and saved Lauren’s room for me, all because of his girlfriend who I used to hate; and lastly how Grandma Johnson had helped me.

  It felt really good, not just to finally tell someone but also for the first time not cry as I spoke about my life. I felt more in control. Adam would ask a question here and there, but mainly he just listened.

  When I ran out of steam, he kissed my forehead. I took his hand in both of mine. “Thank you for listening to me. It feels good to be able to talk and not cry. I think it’s because I’ve been talking with you so much. It really can’t be that fun for you.”

  “Rubbish. I’m happy you would share that with me.” He grinned. “I’ve got something for you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A Christmas present.” He smirked, clearly knowing he’d caught me off-guard.

  “We said no gifts!”

  “Well, I changed my mind.”

  “But I don’t have anything for you.”

  “I don’t care. And it’s not a big deal. Come with me.”

  We went back downstairs, and I sat on the sofa while he took a small flat package wrapped in red tissue paper from his jacket. He must have snuck it in.

  He sat next to me and offered it, looking a little anxious. “Adam…” I tried to protest, but I was too touched. A guy just wrapping a present for you could clench the coldest heart. As I slowly unwrapped the paper, it was apparent that it was a small book, so I expected to see a novel he thought I might like.

  I didn’t expect what it was—a beautiful brown leather journal, wrapped with a matching cord of leather. My fingertips brushed across the soft material, which smelled so nice. “It’s so pretty.”

  “Look inside.”

  As I undid the cord, the pages fell open to beautiful illustrations of flowers and vines edging every page and done by his own hand. I was stunned, though, to see what was pasted into the first page. It was a fine sketch of a woman’s profile from a slightly turned angle. Despite the halved image, I knew at once who it was.

  “This is me?”

  He nodded shyly. “Yeah, I drew you in lessons…around the time you weren’t speaking to me. You never looked at me, so you were a good model.”

  “Oh, Adam. No one’s ever done anything like this before. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Like it? I can’t believe you made it for me. I love it!”

  “I’m so glad. I was worried you wouldn’t like it. I tried to pick the best sketch.” He looked down shyly. “I had a few to choose from.”

  “Well, I didn’t talk to you for a while. I’m sorry about that.” I threw my arms around him, holding as tightly as I could. I hoped he could tell how my heart felt, because the only words I found were, “Thank you.”

  For the next few hours, Adam and I hung out downstairs, laughing our way through bad TV. Eventually, we got hungry and ordered a pizza. Then around seven, we started a heated debate about the cover of the Clash’s London Calling album. I swore it was a take-off on one of Elvis’s old records, and he didn’t believe me. I swiped Mom’s Elvis, and we ran upstairs together to check out the Clash album.

  He laughed breathlessly at me. “I don’t know why I bother arguing with you. You’re usually right.”

  “About some things.”

  His eyes twinkled, and he pulled me onto my bed. Right as we hit the mattress, we were shamelessly all over one another, and this time clothes started flying off. Somewhere along the week, I had lost all my inhibitions with the guy. I knew I still wasn’t ready to have sex, but my fingers itched to touch him again. So I made the first move and had his shirt and sweater off in a snap.

  As soon as I saw his skin, my hands and mouth were all over his lanky muscles. I followed them up and down and all around, and every time I hit a patch of his curly brownish hair, I squirmed below. It must have been obvious, because soon after I’d gotten him half-naked he said, “I think this is unfair to both of us.”

  “What is?”

  “I haven’t seen that map in a while.”

  I giggled and looked down at my blouse. “Well, help me with the buttons.”

  He got to work on the buttons and muttered, “I like your men’s vest better. It was easier.” But when my bra was exposed, he said, “Actually, I take that back.”

  Of course, my lacy bra with front closure was premeditated. He smiled and made a throaty sound in appreciation as he first traced my scars and then the lace around my breasts. “So beautiful.” I knew I wanted the sensation again of him kissing my body, so I unfastened my bra as fast as I could.

  That elicited a groan and such quick action from him that I was flat on my back before I knew it. He was kissing and sucking on my right nipple while massaging my other breast. His mouth was wet and warm, bringing m
y body to life. I arched toward him, only wanting more. I got so worked up that it took me a bit to realize his mouth was headed south.

  As much as I wanted whatever Adam was planning on doing down there, I wanted to feel him first. I had left this boyfriend of mine with blue balls too often—not to mention I was dying to see what he looked like. So I pulled him up for a kiss and then rolled us over so that I was on top of him.

  I could tell he was curious by what I was doing and probably thinking I was slowing us down. But he appeared almost baffled when I smiled and reached down to the button of his Levis. I always loved the fuzzy belly above a guy’s jeans, so I stroked it a few times before I started to unbutton them. In a quick breath, he exclaimed, “Oh my God.”

  Enjoying my few minutes of complete power over a guy, I toyed with him. “Is this okay?”

  “Fuck yeah.”

  With that, I unbuttoned his jeans and started tugging them down along with his boxers. I was a little uncertain as to how far they should go. Down to his thighs? To his knees? Off altogether? Adam decided for both of us. He quickly kicked off his shoes and stripped down. The sight of him fully naked gave me a start.

  For as much as John and I had fooled around, he’d never been totally nude in front of me. This was my first time being with a guy like that. I felt a little thrill. Being in the presence of a perfect male form reminded me of visits to the Menil Collection or the Museum of Fine Arts. I wasn’t just seeing something beautiful in a book; I was present and fully experiencing it.

  “I’m…uh…” Adam said.

  When I raised my eyes to his, I saw he looked uncomfortable, maybe even distressed.

  “Well, in the UK, they don’t…” he continued to mumble sheepishly.

  Then I realized what he was so shy about—he was uncircumcised. Meredith’s friends had said she didn’t like it. Yet, I hadn’t noticed at all. His penis looked perfect—just like the rest of him. It seemed to be about the same size as John’s; I really wasn’t sure if that was large or small. And yes, there was the difference of a foreskin, but because I had seen more classical art and statues in my life than American porn, his foreskin looked like it was supposed to be there.

  “You know, you look like Michelangelo’s David,” I said with a smile.

  He grinned when he heard it, appearing both relieved and pleased, and he pulled me back on top of him for a forceful kiss. I didn’t let that go on for too long, though. I wanted to play around, so I moved down his body. The relatively small amount of experience I’d had with guys had taught me one universal truth—they were simple. If you put your hand and especially your mouth on their dick, they were instantly happy. If you made them come, they were ecstatic. And if you let them come in your mouth, they were downright overjoyed.

  Afterward when I looked up at him, he was still shaking and panting, but he started to smile. He pulled me up as that guaranteed overjoyed grin spread across his face. “That…that was fucking fantastic.”

  Whatever I had done earned me a long, passionate kiss before he rolled me on my back. He extended the kisses down my neck and around my breasts. Venturing downward, he brushed every one of my scars with a kiss as he went lower and lower on my stomach, causing me to hold my breath in anticipation. I didn’t hold it long, though, because he continued kissing me as hooked both his hands on my skirt and yanked it off along with my panties.

  I squirmed a little out of embarrassment. I was lying there completely exposed. I hadn’t even been that naked in front of John. And now Adam had the complete ugly view of the scars across my body. I was going to say something about not wanting to scare him off, but Adam groaned—a low, sexy groan. He went back to work kissing my scars, and this time he started going lower and lower, below my belly button. I was playing with his hair the whole time, feeling every kiss on my stomach deep below as well. When he reached the top of my pubic hair, kissing along the edge of it, my breath hitched. Was he really going to do what I thought he was? Indeed he was. A few minutes later, my hips started bucking, and there was no controlling me from repeatedly mashing myself into his face, eventually releasing into the best orgasm ever.

  When I caught my breath and came back to reality, I giggled—a little out of embarrassment and a lot out of happiness. Who was I to say men were simple? I was just as easily pleased. I pulled Adam’s face up to mine and placed both of my hands on his cheeks, kissing him. I could taste and smell myself on him, but I didn’t care, and he didn’t seem to mind either.

  “I’m glad you liked that.” He laughed and rubbed his nose against mine. “And that was just my first go.”

  We ended up lying under my covers talking and laughing for the rest of the evening. It took a while for me to realize that it wasn’t perfectly normal for Adam to be lying naked next to me with his head on my green paisley pillow.

  But as the night wore on and I saw that it was getting perilously close to ten, I knew we had to break up our little party. It felt like I had crashed into a wall of sadness. Adam was quiet, too.

  Despondent, I said, “You should probably leave soon, before Mom gets home.”

  He nodded. “We’re leaving so bloody early tomorrow anyway.” Then he turned his head on the pillow to look at me. “I’m going to miss you, Nicki. These last few weeks have been…wonderful.”

  My heart was folding in on itself, and there was a giant lump that felt like a boulder in the back of my throat. I couldn’t say everything that I wanted to. Instead, I whispered, “Yeah. Me too.” I rolled my head away from him as a tear left my eye.

  “Oh, Nicki, don’t cry.”

  Turning back to him, I could feel more tears on my face, so I tried to smile. “I won’t. Send me a postcard, okay?”

  He kissed my wet cheeks. “Of course. I’m back on the second. Can we go out that night? I’ll ring you as soon as I can that day.”

  “I’d like that.” I wiped my tears. “I think we both need some clothes now.”

  We laughed a little as we helped each other get dressed. Looking around the room, I realized that before Mom got home I should also straighten up. Most importantly, I needed to make my bed.

  I knew if I walked him out, my tears would come on even stronger. I hugged him and kept my forced smile. “You should let yourself out. So I can clean up my room and wash my face before Mom is home.”

  He looked a little disappointed but nodded.

  “Thanks again for my present. It’s really beautiful. You shouldn’t have.”

  “But I wanted to.” He leaned down and gave me one more long kiss before he whispered, “Cheers, sweetheart.”

  I whispered goodbye, too, mainly because I was holding back a gusher of tears that wouldn’t let me speak clearly. After kissing my forehead, he walked out the room.

  Sitting on my bed, I cried as I heard his car drive off, but I smiled through my tears. The guy was adorable. He’d called me sweetheart!

  Chapter 19

  I TRUDGED THROUGH THE NEXT DAY at school. No Adam to make my day better. No Adam for weeks to make the holidays better.

  His absence did provide an opportunity for me to catch up with Lisa and Rachel, though. That Saturday, my mom said she was going out with friends for dinner and a movie, so I begged Rachel to leave Tom for the night and come over with Lisa. She ended up bringing Lisa, pepperoni pizza, and beer she’d scammed from her dad’s endless supply.

  Lisa started counting. “It’s a good thing that you brought one, two, three…damn, Rachel, you brought half a case. How am I supposed to drive home?”

  “You won’t.” Rachel giggled. “We’ll just crash here. Nicki’s mom won’t care.”

  “I’m in. I should call my mom before I start slurring my words, though.”

  Being with them again cheered me up. “We haven’t done this in a while. I’ve missed it.”

  It was true. We hadn’t spent the night together since Lauren had died. It had always been so much fun, especially with Lauren lurking around trying to figure out what we were keeping
from her about guys and sex. She would spend an ungodly amount of time in the bathroom pretending she was peeing, brushing her teeth, or taking a bath. Out of nowhere you’d hear, “Wait…where were you and John?” or something like that. I’d then scream, “Lauren, get the hell out of there now!”

  As soon as we sat down to eat, Rachel immediately got to the point. “I’m guessing you haven’t had sex with Adam, because you would have told us immediately, right? So what’s been going on?”

  “Ask me specific questions, and I’ll answer them specifically within reason.” I really didn’t want to say too much about Adam.

  Rachel started a rapid-fire interrogation. “So have you had sex?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Then we’ll start at the beginning. Has he touched your breasts?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shirt on or off?”

  “Both.”

  “Very nice. Has he touched your vagina?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ah!” Lisa jumped in, “Have you touched his penis?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh my God! And is he really uncircumcised?” asked Rachel.

  “I think you know the answer to that,” I said, flashing her a look.

  “How exciting! So have you touched his penis with your mouth, too?”

  “Yes.” By then, I was giggling like the silly girl I was. Rachel’s eyes got big as she asked, “And has he touched your vagina with his mouth as well? Please say yes.”

  “Yes.” It came out sort of proudly.

  And then even Lisa was excited for me. Gripping a pillow, she asked, “And did you have an orgasm?”

  I nodded and continued giggling, while Rachel screamed and bounced up and down. “Oh my God! Awesome!”

  “All right.” Lisa grinned. “That’s a wicked good reason for abandoning me since Thanksgiving.”

  “I’m sorry about that, Lisa.”

  “Not a big deal, really. Anyway, what is oral sex like? I keep being with these lousy guys who push my head down on them but won’t touch me.”

  “I hate that.” Rachel shook her head in disgust. “Nothing pisses me off more than a guy who pushes my head down to his dick. It’s so demeaning. I never give a blowjob to a guy who does that to me.”