by Amelia Stone
“So?” Brian asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I blinked, shaking my head. “What was the question?”
“Do you want her?” Eric repeated.
I huffed out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I want her.”
“Then what’s the holdup?” Brian asked, sounding impatient.
“Maybe she doesn’t want him,” Eric said, sounding almost apologetic for even suggesting it.
Todd shook his head firmly. “She does.”
The other two goons nodded and murmured their agreement like her interest was now indisputable. Todd had that kind of effect on people. He rarely spoke, so when he did, his words tended to have an unusual gravity attached to them, like what he said must be true if he actually took the trouble to say it.
“You think so?” I asked, scratching my chin. He hadn’t seen us together in years. What made him so sure? Had she ever said something to him about me?
He looked conflicted for a moment, like he didn’t want to tell me. Finally, he fixed me with a serious stare. “Prom.”
I frowned at him. “What about prom?”
But I had a feeling I knew where he was going with this. I remembered that night with a clarity that was, admittedly, unusual for me. Then again, I remembered most everything about Jamy.
Todd scowled at me. “I drove her home.”
Shit. This could not be good. Prom was kind of a disaster – or more accurately, what’d happened between Jamy and me after prom.
Brian’s head bounced between Todd and me. “Hold up. What happened at prom?”
I frowned down at my beer for a beat, deciding which parts of the story to tell them. Finally, I took a deep breath.
“We all went as a group,” I began. “Me, Todd, Celia, Jamy, Hannah, and Andrew.”
“That fucking scumbag,” Brian spat, after I’d mentioned Hannah’s high school boyfriend.
I nodded. “No shit.” No one had any good memories of my sister’s cheating ex.
“So Jamy was your date?” Eric asked, no doubt sorting out the number of people and subtracting the existing couples.
I shook my head. “No, we were just friends then.”
Todd grunted, like he was calling me out on my bullshit. I’d known Todd since kindergarten, so I was fluent in all his grunts.
I huffed. “We were,” I insisted. We’d been strictly platonic at the time, even if that hadn’t really been what I wanted.
“So what happened?” Brian repeated, sounding impatient.
“Well,” I continued, “the girls all got stupid drunk on some Boone’s Farm that Sabine bought for them.”
“Sabine?” Eric raised an eyebrow.
“Hannah and Sam’s cousin,” Brian explained.
“She had just turned twenty-one,” I added.
“Okay, but Boone’s Farm?” Eric made a face. “That stuff is so gross.”
“Yeah, but when you’re a teenager, your choices are limited to what your part-time job at the movie theatre will pay for,” I quipped. “Jamy insisted on treating everyone, because Hannah and I had just turned eighteen.”
“Fair enough,” Eric allowed with a laugh. “But why did only the girls get drunk? Didn’t you guys drink, too?”
“Well, Todd was the DD.” I toyed with my empty glass. “And I’d gotten completely shit-faced on tequila shots at our birthday party the week before.” Eric cringed, and I nodded. “I was off alcohol for a long time after that.” I cringed. Just the smell of that fruity wine had made me want to puke my guts up.
“And scumbag?” Brian growled.
I rolled my eyes. “Andrew refused to drink the cheap shit. He had a hip flask with some scotch that he’d stolen from his dad’s liquor cabinet.” I grinned. “Which he ended up spilling in the parking lot before we even got to the dance. He never got so much as a single sip.”
Brian chuckled. “Bet he loved that.”
“He was a right ray of sunshine all night,” I confirmed. He’d been a dickbag to all of us, but especially Hannah. It seemed funnier now, with time as a buffer. And she was happy now, as Brian so smugly pointed out earlier, so it was easier to feel nostalgic even for Andrew.
“So what happened with Jamy that night?” Eric asked.
I frowned at a spot on the table. There were some things about that night that I just didn’t want to share with everyone.
“She and I were dancing,” I said at last.
Brian laughed. “That girl does love to dance.”
I nodded, smiling fondly. “That she does,” my voice going soft as my memories took over.
We’d been dancing to an upbeat tune, Usher or some shit like that. I was never one for pop music, even as a teenager. Jamy was loving it though, seductively moving her body to the beat and generally having the time of her life. But then the song ended, and Mazzy Star’s “Fade Into You” slinked out of the speakers.
Without a second thought, I pulled her closer, my arms snaking around her waist until my hands were resting just above her ass. She smiled up at me, throwing her arms around my neck, and we stared into each other’s eyes as we swayed gently to the music.
She opened her mouth to say something, and I couldn’t help but stare at her tongue. Her whole mouth was stained blue from the flavored wine, and I’d wondered at the time what she tasted like. Some combination of Blue Hawaiian and Jamy’s own essence, probably. It wasn’t the first time I’d thought about kissing her, or even the hundredth time. I’d wanted Jamy for a long time, but for one reason or another, it just hadn’t happened yet. Staring down at her blue tongue that night, it was all I could do not to claim her once and for all.
But the blue also reminded me that Jamy was intoxicated. Kissing her now, when she was too drunk to make an informed decision – hell, when she was too drunk to even remember it the next day – would have been a very bad idea.
“Sam, I wanna tell you somethin’,” she slurred, looking serious. She tried to blink a few times, but her eyelashes were sticking together, her makeup mixing with sweat or something.
I looked around at the dance floor for a second. It was way too crowded to have a conversation here. And one of the chaperones, our physics teacher, Mr. McDaniels, was eyeing us with a frown. Maybe we were dancing too close. Or maybe he was just waiting to bust Jamy for underage drinking, which was a big no-no at our school.
I pulled her off the dance floor, my arm around her waist to support her. “Let’s get some air.”
We made our way out to the parking lot. We were shielded from view by a clump of tall oleander bushes, and I attempted to prop her still-swaying body against the building. But she obviously had other ideas. She pushed off the wall, pressing herself against me. She threw her arms around my neck again, blinking up at me. Or trying to. One of her eyelids was still glued shut.
But even with all the mess, she took my breath away. Her dress was the color of the ocean, and it brought out the green in her eyes. Her hair was all piled on top of her head, with little flowers tucked in here and there. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were stained by the wine, and I’d never seen a more beautiful girl in my life.
“Sammy, I hafta tell you somethin’.” She raised herself on her tiptoes. “I wanna you.”
I frowned down at her. It sounded like she was trying to tell me she wanted me, but her words were too jumbled by the alcohol to be sure. “Jamy, maybe we should talk about this tomorrow.”
She shook her head, her whole body swaying with the movement. She was probably only upright because my arms were locked tight around her.
“Noooo. I wanna you now,” she slurred.
And before I could stop her, she closed her eyes, puckered up her lips, and moved in for the kill. But she was still swaying, and with her eyes closed, she ended up planting a sloppy kiss on my chin.
I pushed her back gently. “Listen, this really isn’t the right time,” I said.
She unstuck her eyelashes enough to look at me, and her eyes were swimming with hurt. “You do
n’t wanna me?”
I sighed, closing my eyes for a second. When I opened them again, she was still staring at me, her eyes now filling with tears. “Jamy, believe me, I want you so badly.” I took a deep breath, reminding myself of all the reasons this was a really bad idea right now. She wanted to kiss me! “You have no idea how badly,” I added.
She lurched, pushing herself away from me. I thought for a moment she was angry at me, and I braced myself for a fight. But it turned out she was about to be sick. She groaned and took a couple of shaky steps, before finally bending over and yakking all over the oleander bushes behind us.
“Blah, blah, you danced,” Brian said, pulling me from my memories. “Then what?”
I bit the inside of my lip, not sure I wanted to share. Some things should remain private.
But Todd took the decision out of my hands. “She made a move on him,” he rumbled.
“No shit,” Brian murmured, raising an eyebrow. “Shy little Jamy made a move on you?”
I ignored him, instead frowning at Todd. “How do you know that?”
Moments after the kiss that wasn’t, the others had come spilling out of the building, carousing like only a bunch of tipsy teenagers on the cusp of high school graduation can. As soon as he’d seen Jamy’s condition, Todd had insisted that we all call it a night, and he’d driven us home.
I’d wanted to make sure that Jamy got home safely, but Andrew insisted on being dropped off first, saying he was tired and wanted to go to bed. I couldn’t let my drunk sister face our parents by herself, so I’d entrusted Jamy to Todd’s care. I knew he’d make sure she was okay.
I’d always wondered if she said something to him that night, but I’d figured she’d be too embarrassed, or maybe too drunk to make any sense. Now I knew better.
“She told me everything,” he confirmed with a shrug. “Was drunk off her ass. Probably figured I wouldn’t care.”
I scowled at him. “Or that you wouldn’t say anything to anyone.”
He looked utterly unconcerned by that. “You really mad that I did?”
I sighed. No, I wasn’t. Jamy had always held so much inside her, swallowing her feelings so as not to upset others. I was glad she’d unburdened herself to someone, even if it wasn’t me.
“See, though,” Brian said. “That proves she’s into you.”
I shook my head. “It was a long time ago.” I took a big gulp of my beer. “And she was drunk. She wasn’t really trying to make a pass. It was just the alcohol.” I frowned. “She didn’t mean it.”
The next day, I’d gone over to Jamy’s to check on her. She was hungover, but lucid. Though she seemed a little embarrassed, she’d ultimately laughed the whole thing off, swearing that the Boone’s Farm had made her do it. She was just drunk, nothing more. No pesky feelings involved. Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.
To say I’d been disappointed would be an understatement. But I’d gone along with it, laughing right along with her. And I’d never brought it up again. The last thing I wanted was to embarrass us both. And because she seemed to think it was all no big deal, I’d spent the next ten years convincing myself Jamy and I we were better off as friends.
Until recently, that is. For the last few weeks, I’d had it in my head that Jamy and I could be everything to each other. I’d found myself dredging up old memories, reassessing all her looks and words. I was pretty sure we could have had something back then.
Now, I wasn’t so sure. I’d obviously blown it last night. She shut the fucking door in my face. How much clearer could it be that she wasn’t ready for me?
Jesus. My head was spinning. I pushed my beer away, reaching for the bowl of pretzels. I needed to be a lot less tipsy if I wanted to keep my thoughts straight.
Across the table, Todd huffed, shaking his head. “She meant it.”
I froze, a pretzel halfway to my mouth. I stared at him for a beat, trying to read his expression. I could count on one hand the number of really serious conversations I’d had with Todd – hell, the number of times I’d even had an actual conversation with him. It was usually a bunch of grunts from him, with me carrying the discussion. But I’d definitely never heard him utter a lie. And he seemed really sure of himself right now.
“She told you that?” I asked, hardly daring to believe it.
He nodded. “Said she’d wanted you for a long time.”
I reeled in my chair, feeling light-headed all of a sudden. Confirmation that Jamy had wanted me all those years was a game changer. It gave me hope, something I desperately needed at the moment. All of a sudden, my sour mood evaporated, replaced with a bouncy, excited feeling in the pit of my stomach. This could work. I could actually be with Jamy. She’d wanted me once. She would want me again. I’d make damn sure of it.
Now I just needed to figure out how to make it happen.
“Okay, so he wants her, and she wants him.” Eric drained his beer, then looked around for the waitress. “Now he just needs a plan to get the girl.”
“How?” Brian asked, sounding perplexed. I snorted. It was a miracle he’d managed to snag my sister, given that he couldn’t find romance even with a flashlight and a map.
Not that I was any better, apparently. I’d vowed to be patient with Jamy, but my patience had lasted all of about twenty minutes, and as a result, I’d scared her away. Clearly, my ideas on how to win her over were complete and utter crap.
We were all quiet for a bit, thinking. After a few minutes, Todd broke the silence. “Woo her.” He took a sip of his beer.
“Woo her,” Eric echoed, sounding thoughtful.
Brian grinned. “Fuck yeah. Woo her!”
I rolled my eyes. “You are such a fucking geek.”
Brian gave me the finger. “Takes one to know one.”
Todd grunted, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “Woo her,” he repeated, like it was the final word on the subject.
I thought about it for a minute. I knew this woman. I knew what she liked, what she loved, even. I could think of a thousand ways to make her feel special. If I could just manage to take my time, to look before leaping this time, then I could win her over. I would win her over.
Slowly, a grin spread across my face. “Now that, I can do.”
“So Jamy, what’s going on with you and Sam?”
Sabine’s question startled me, and I jumped in my seat, sloshing my drink all over my hand. I cursed under my breath as I set my glass down on the table and grabbed a baby wipe from my purse. I made sure to clean up every sticky drop of Malibu and Coke, scrubbing until my hand was pink. Then I scrubbed the table down. (Okay, I scrubbed the table down again. I did it when we got to the bar an hour ago, too. Don’t judge.)
Once I was all done, I looked up, blinking as innocently as I could. “What do you mean?”
Sabine smiled slyly. She hadn’t said a word all week about the kiss she’d interrupted, making me think she either hadn’t seen it, or didn’t care. Basically, she lulled me into a false sense of complacency, the dirty rat.
“I mean, that was one hell of a kiss,” she replied. “I thought I was going to have to bust out the garden hose to separate you two the other day.”
Across the table from me, Hannah choked on her drink, coughing and spluttering. Celia reached over from the seat next to her and pounded on her back. I winced in sympathy. Celia was even smaller than Hannah, but she had freakish strength for someone so tiny. I choked on a tuna fish sandwich once when we were in the fifth grade, and I’d been haunted by the phantom feeling of her fist between my shoulder blades ever since.
“You made out with Sam?” Hannah screeched, once she’d finally caught her breath. “My brother Sam?”
“Duh. How many other Sams do you know?” Sabine asked, rolling her hazel eyes.
I bit my lip. The only Sam I knew was the one who’d driven me home the other night. The one who’d kissed me senseless, right before I slammed the door in his face. The one I was no longer mad at, but who nonetheless confuse
d the hell out of me. And the one who, I’m pretty sure, I was about three-and-a-half steps from falling in love with.
On Wednesday, I’d gotten a mysterious lunch delivery at work. One of the guys at the front desk had brought back a bag bearing the logo of my favorite sandwich shop, Capriotti’s, but he wouldn’t tell me who’d delivered it for me. I figured it out pretty quickly, though.
Lunch at Capriotti’s used to be kind of a thing for Sam and me. We both loved The Bobbie, their famous sandwich that was basically Thanksgiving on a roll. We’d go there together all the time and order a large sandwich, splitting it in half. He would always give me the half with more stuffing, taking the half with more cranberry sauce for himself. We used to argue over which of our halves was better, and we could never settle the debate.
I hadn’t eaten there since he’d moved to Portugal. Capriotti’s was too closely tied to Sam in my mind. The idea of eating there without him was just too sad.
But on Wednesday, I found myself sitting at my desk, staring at half a Bobbie sandwich – and sure enough, it had more stuffing than cranberry sauce. The aroma of Thanksgiving filled my tiny office, and I inhaled deeply, blinking back tears. There was a note written inside the wax paper in familiar handwriting.
You were always the better half, it said.
And as if that wasn’t enough, he’d made another delivery earlier today. I’d come back into my office after my break, only to see my two favorite snacks sitting on my desk: a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and a Kit Kat bar. Yet another handwritten note accompanied the treats.
For the woman who is both hot and sweet.
The note was cute and dorky all at once, and I’d laughed in spite of myself. It was just like Sam to try to win me over with food. And much to my chagrin, it was kind of working.
“The only Sam I know is my brother, and I’m pretty sure he’s never kissed you before.” Hannah’s voice was jarring, interrupting my thoughts. She stared at me as though accusing me of something. Keeping the juicy news to myself, maybe? She wouldn’t be wrong about that. I’d vowed long ago to keep my crush on Sam a secret. One I planned on taking to my dang grave.
