by Mary Whitney
It sounded sort of stupid after I’d said it. After all, it was obvious that I wasn’t Holden Caulfield. I was grieving for a sibling, but it wasn’t like I was going to end up in a mental asylum like Holden.
Yet Adam’s face didn’t change. He instead began to stroke my hair. “No, you’re not Holden, but you’re in a similar situation.”
I could tell the conversation made him anxious—that he was probably worried the book would set me back and make me depressed.
I scowled at the thought, so I dismissed it. “I’ll get through it.”
Adam tousled my hair and gave me a kiss. “I’ll help.”
He really was too kind to me. I looked down, knowing I did want his assistance—but with something else. I had to ask because I couldn’t do it by myself, and I really wanted to. I needed to.
“I do need some help with something.”
“What’s that?”
“Will you help me get some of the boxes with Lauren’s stuff down from our attic?”
“Of course.” Surely he knew, though, that I wasn’t asking just for his ability to move boxes.
So, Adam went up into the attic for me, and I stayed at the bottom of the ladder. He soon called down to me, “Nicki, none of these boxes are marked. There’s got to be at least forty of them up here. Do you want me to help you up?”
“Sure.”
“Grab a jacket first. It’s freezing.”
We tromped around the musty, dirty attic searching for her things. Once I figured out her stuff was in the most non-descript office boxes, I saw there were only three.
We sat down together in front of them. Adam was obviously waiting for me to do or say something, but I just stared at the containers. The sight of them made me incredibly sad. “So, Lauren’s life amounted to three boxes.”
“She was young.” Putting his arms around me, he kissed my hair. “You don’t need a lot of stuff to remember who she was.”
Of course he would say the right thing to me. I turned to him and looked into my favorite eyes in the whole world. It was such an odd time for me to think about us, but it happened.
My life was intense. Everything about it went way beyond what my friends dealt with on a daily basis. Adam brought lightness to my life that hadn’t been there in so long. I felt more like my age again. He wasn’t simply a distraction, though; he didn’t simply take my mind off things. Being around him made me more at ease, made it easier for me to deal with all my shit. He made life fun and gave it more meaning.
Would I have felt the same way about him if Lauren hadn’t died? Maybe not as quickly, but I was sure I would’ve ended up right in the same place—completely in love with him.
I knew Adam was the one for me. Mom was right that there were other guys out there. They could be substitutes, but they couldn’t replace him. We’d only been together for a couple months, but it seemed much longer. It felt like I had a rare connection with him, and remarkable as it was, I was confident he felt the same way about me.
What did I do in response to this revelation? I placed my right hand against his cheek and laid a giant kiss on him, full of all my emotion. Adam immediately responded, pulling me to him.
When my hand wandered down to find his dick, he murmured, “Is this what we came up here for?”
“Sorry about that. I—”
“Don’t apologize.” He tousled my hair. “I just thought we might take the boxes down and go to your bedroom.”
“Um…we can’t.” I shook my head both to say no and shake off my arousal. “Lauren’s stuff should stay up here where Mom won’t find it. She’s much better now, but I don’t want to push her. I mean…even if she was totally fine, she may not want to look through this stuff for years.”
“Or maybe ever.”
We plowed through the boxes. I’d come across things that would make me cry, like Lauren’s maimed and threadbare teddy bear, Mr. Bear. Other things would make me laugh and remember the best of her, like her book reports and really bad art projects. I found her diary but stopped reading it after a page. It was so personal that I felt like a snoop and quickly put it down.
It was great having Adam at my side while I remembered all that was Lauren. As he had pointed out, though, it wasn’t all of Lauren, just the physical reminders. He helped me through the whole thing. He hugged me when I got blue and was interested when I would show him certain items. But after an hour, I worried that Mom would come home soon. It was time to decide what I wanted to keep.
Mr. Bear was the obvious choice. It was a little trite and maybe silly to take her favorite stuffed animal, but Mr. Bear had made her really happy. She’d been inseparable from him most of our lives, more so when we were little, but he’d still always been there on her bed, even when she’d gotten older. I explained it to Adam, and his face became concerned.
“I don’t think it’s silly. It’s very personal. But, what will happen when your mum sees it?”
“Oh…I hadn’t thought of that.” I looked down at the little guy. “But, I want him. I’ll hide him for now. Maybe later it won’t be a big deal.”
I wanted to tell Mom that I’d been up here, though, simply to show her that I was brave enough to have gone through the boxes.
“You know, I told her I wanted to look through the boxes specifically for a notebook. Maybe I could bring one down.”
Adam pulled one out of a box. He opened it, and we saw it was totally blank inside.
“Perfect,” I said, both of us smiling.
Chapter 23
THAT SATURDAY NIGHT, Adam and Tom went out for a guys’ night out. I took it as an opportunity to repay Sylvia for her gift by taking her out to dinner. She was ecstatic even though I was just taking her for Chinese.
For the first half of the meal, she was jumpy and happy, telling me all about her art and why she wasn’t going to college. “Daddy wants me to, but I told him to sod off. I’m going to be an artist, not an academic.”
She then cocked her head and made a statement that was more of a question. “So you and Adam talked about what you shall do.”
“Do when?”
“After we leave.”
“Uh, no.” There went my appetite. “We’re kind of ignoring it right now.”
“What?” Her usually perfectly arched eyebrows knitted together in concern. “He said he was going to talk to you.”
“Who wants to talk about that?” I thought it was pretty self-explanatory.
Sylvia straightened up in her chair, like she was taking command of the situation. “Well, I’ll do it, then. He thinks you should go to university in Britain. I do, too.”
Huh? What? I didn’t say anything as I absorbed what she’d said.
She used the time to talk more. “He’s going to have to cram two years’ work into one so he can get the grades he needs to get into uni. He’s missed the chance to apply this year because we’ve been here. He doesn’t know where he’ll be going yet. Maybe you could decide together.”
I’d never even thought of that because I never would think of that. But I considered it for a moment, and fate quickly slapped me in the face.
“I can’t. I can’t be that far away from my family. My grandmother is getting older. I’ve thought before about going to school at UT because she’s in Austin. If she moves to Illinois to be near my dad, I’ll try to go to Northwestern. I think I could get in.” I grimaced as the hardest fact came out. “I really don’t want to be away from my parents. I’m all they’ve got now.”
All the spirit in Sylvia seemed to leave. Clearly, she and Adam had talked at length about it. I always had suspected that underneath all their bickering they were good friends. And they’d decided this was the answer, but they hadn’t thought about me.
She was quiet before saying, “I’m sorry. We should’ve thought of that. I think you should talk to Adam.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” That was the last thing I wanted to do. Face reality? No way. A distant glimmer of hope came to mind, though. “
What about him coming here?”
“Impossible.” Sylvia pursed her lips and shook her head. “A lot is expected of him. My dad wants him to choose ‘Oxbridge’—you know, Oxford or Cambridge—or at least Exeter or Canterbury. Daddy would never pay for him to study abroad.”
Again, fate wasn’t on my side; no stars aligning for me in this life. “Daddy” would certainly never pay for Adam to go to school with me. I bet he wouldn’t even like to hear his kids had talked about me going to school over there. Pressing my lips together, I tried to stop them from quivering and to keep my mouth shut. I wasn’t going to cry on the shoulder of Adam’s little sister.
After a moment of silence, she spoke. “You two need to talk.”
“I know.” Of course we needed to talk. There just wasn’t much to say.
When the fortune cookies arrived at our table, I told Sylvia to take her pick. By now, I figured I had little control of my life; my fortune would be decided for me.
She read hers aloud: “Stay true to yourself.” She laughed. “Well, that’s never been a problem for me.”
Laughing at her spirit, I pulled the paper strip out of my cookie. I read it and shook my head. “I hate fortune cookies that aren’t fortunes. You know, the ones that are just platitudes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mine says, ‘Happiness is made.’ That tells me nothing.”
“Don’t you think it’s true?”
“Yes, but I also believe in luck.” Pulling out a twenty from my wallet, I thought, And luck is something I don’t have.
As soon as I saw Adam on Monday morning, I knew he’d spoken with Sylvia. They must’ve done it when he’d gotten home the night before. He was just as sweet to me as ever, but he seemed down. I didn’t ask him about it because I knew the reason.
Although it was the conversation neither of us wanted to have, he wasted no time raising the issue when we were alone after school. I tried to deflect it by starting our daily make-out session in my living room, but he only kissed me for a minute.
Pulling away, he announced, “I talked to Sylvia.”
“And?”
“And I don’t know. Your reasons are completely understandable, but my dad will never let me come to school here. I think that’s one of the reasons I got a talking to over the holidays.”
Finding both of my hands, he held them tightly in his. “I love you. I just don’t know how we can work this out.”
“I love you, but I don’t know either.”
There was silence. It was obvious neither of us wanted to rehash our problems.
After a minute, he said thoughtfully, “Maybe we need to lower our expectations of the future.”
Lower my expectations? After the year I’d just had, I had no expectations for my future. How could they be any lower? A lovely boy had walked into my life; he made me feel more special than anyone on earth, and now he was going to walk out of it. To use one of Grandpa’s golf expressions, it was now par for the course.
What had Adam meant by that, though? That we were just going to be friends or something? With what I felt for him, that seemed impossible, entirely impossible.
More to myself than to him, I finally replied, “I don’t expect anything anymore.”
“Oh God, Nicki. This is killing me,” he whispered as he stroked my cheek. “Let’s not do this right now. We’ve got a few months. Let’s see how things turn out.”
It looked like I was going to have to be the realist. Maybe that was my new duty in life. “We’ll have to face facts at some point.”
“Yes, but not now. It’s not going to do any good fretting and worrying now.” He smiled. “I have too good of a time with you to waste it doing that. Let’s worry about it in spring—not say a word until April at least.”
Sticking my head in the sand for a few more months sounded good to me. I simply nodded. “April, then.”
It was a stupid decision, yet it was the best decision. Starting immediately, we never, ever talked about the future. We were only in the present, and we were only out to have fun. We found ways to see each other even more than usual, and we’d even started talking on the phone—something Adam hated.
All the while, I checked my calendar every morning to see how many more days I had left until my pill was effective. I still hadn’t told Adam. The fact I’d gone and done it—at my mother’s urging no less—felt embarrassing and presumptuous. I also remained committed to not planning some big sex event. I just wanted it to happen.
Valentine’s Day was on a Sunday, and Adam was very secretive about what he had planned. All he told me was to be prepared for a short hike. The weather was warm for February, and the sun shone brightly as if to give us a blessing.
When he picked me up, I asked, “So what’s on the agenda?”
“A picnic.” He added sheepishly, “Not very original. I know.”
“We live in Bellaire. How creative can you get?”
We ended up far outside of Houston, along the coast. I had to ask, “How do you know about this place you’re taking me?”
“Research,” he said and smiled.
The “short hike” was definitely off the beaten path, although still on a trail. It was kind of a pain because I had his bulky present in my backpack. But when he announced, “We’re here,” I understood at once why he’d taken me there. It was a beautiful stretch of undeveloped beach—a rare thing along the petrochemical Mecca of the Texas coast. There were even enough trees around it that we were alone.
“Wow,” I said, looking around. “This is really pretty.”
“I’m glad I picked the right place,” he replied as he spread out the blanket.
Lunch was very fancy—so good that I assumed Sylvia had to have helped him out with it. Afterward, Adam rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a small box; it was obviously a jewelry box.
He presented it to me, grinning. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”
“Aw. Thanks, Adam.” I glanced over at my own bag. “I’ve got something for you, too.”
“Well, you open yours first.”
Giggling at the suspense, I opened up the tiny box, and my heart both danced and caved when I saw the contents. A silver filigree heart on an intricate chain rested inside.
As I took out the necklace, Adam commented, “Sylvia helped me. I didn’t know if you’d want white or yellow gold, but she insisted that white gold was more classic.”
Gold? No one had ever given me gold before. Silver, but not gold. I winced at the tears that came from his thoughtfulness. “I love it. It’s beautiful.”
“I got it for you because you’re my sweetheart,” he said with a grin.
I grinned back. He was adorable and corny and everything you’d want in a boyfriend. Handing it over to him, I turned around. “Help me put it on.”
The necklace was long, falling just above my cleavage. When I turned back around, he admired his choice, but soon his face changed. His voice was earnest and a little rough. “I…I also wanted you to have it because you’ll always have my heart.”
He’d alluded to the future. At first I was taken aback that he had broken our promise, but then I realized I was about to do the same thing.
Just as earnestly, I confirmed, “And you’ll always have mine.”
I quickly grabbed my bag and handed him my little present, not saying anything about it.
After he opened up the flat package the size of a piece of paper, he smiled at the framed print of a drawing from the Menil Collection. I swallowed hard. “Something from here.”
“It’s perfect. Something to remind me.”
That was my breaking point. I couldn’t handle the bittersweet any more. My only answers were to blubber in front of him or kiss him. I chose the latter, and boy, did he respond.
We were mashed against each other in seconds. In no time, we were rolling on the blanket, and then he hitched my leg so we could really feel one another. It was crazy and hot, and the emotions I felt were lik
e nothing I’d had before.
I thought I might be alone in my feelings, until he pulled away breathlessly after a few minutes. He rolled on his back, and after a few seconds of silence, he talked to the sky. “I want to be with you, Nicki. I want to be your first. I know it’s silly and stupid, but it would mean so much to me.”
Of course, I was going to say I wanted to be with him, too, but I had to laugh to myself. What he’d said was such a guy thing to say. What was it with taking a woman’s virginity?
When I didn’t immediately respond, he looked over at me. “But I understand if you don’t. If you want to wait…for someone who will be sticking around.”
Sticking around? Why would I want to wait for that guy—if that guy even ever came around? I only wanted Adam.
I smiled to put him at ease. “I want it to be you. Now.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
He looked back and forth at our open surroundings. “But we’re outside, and you’ll get cold.”
“I don’t care, and no one is around. We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
Making sure he had his wallet, he guiltily remarked, “I have something…”
I got excited to tell him my surprise. “We don’t need it. I’m on the pill.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, for a while now.”
The prospect of condomless sex must’ve startled him. “I’ve never…done that before.”
“Well, then you’ll have a first, too.”
That brought out a giant grin and then a big kiss as we picked up right where we’d left off, with my leg hitched against him. He was rock hard in less than a minute. As I kicked off my shoes, he quickly started to strip me of my jeans. Then things slowed down.
He sweetly kissed me as he began to stroke my belly, then my thighs, and then in between. I smiled and urged him on by placing his hand at my vagina. Kissing me again, he first slid one and then two fingers inside as if to prepare me.
He stopped kissing with a cute warning. “I should tell you that I may not last long.”
“Whatever.” I laughed. “I’m hoping we do it again.”
