Discovering Benton

by Jessica Sorensen

  His gaze flicks from my lips to my eyes, lips, eyes, lips, eyes, lips… Then he leans in without warning and grazes my lips.

  I freeze, unsure of what to do, balling my hands into fists on my lap.

  Oh, my God, I’m kissing a guy.

  Oh, my God, I’m kissing Benton.

  “Relax,” he whispers against my lips, sounding sort of amused and sort of uneasy.

  I try to do what he says, forcing my muscles to unstiffen, but any relaxation goes straight out the window when he parts my lips with his tongue and deepens the kiss.

  He tastes like cherries and something more potent, and his tongue in my mouth feels strange. Strangely amazing.

  He threads his fingers through my hair as he kisses me slowly. Unsure of what to do with my hands, I reach out to grab on to something and end up putting them on his sides. Without his shirt on, the warmth of his skin overwhelms my palms.

  Worried maybe touching wasn’t part of this deal, I start to draw back.

  “Don’t,” he whispers hoarsely.

  He shudders as I place my hands back where they were. My fingers tremble, my heart slams in my chest, and my anxiety soars through the roof as he then starts to kiss me more fiercely while gradually lowering me to the floor.

  Oh, my gosh, this is getting intense. I should stop it, right? Shouldn’t I …?

  I don’t know …

  Before I can make a decision, the bathroom door flies open, and I scoot back, my cheeks flushing and my heart racing.

  Benton blinks at me, looking dazed. And confused. And worried. “Zhara, I—”

  “Dude, Benton, there’re some guys in suits at the front door saying they need to talk to you. They seriously look like secret agents or something ” A guy we went to school with is standing in the doorway, glancing back and forth between us with perplexity written all over his face.

  Benton lets out a string of curses as he starts to stand. “Sorry,” he says to me then walks out of the bathroom.

  I watch him go, utterly puzzled over what he’s sorry for. Leaving me? Or kissing me?

  Kissing?

  Reality slaps me across the face.

  Oh, my gosh, I just had my first kiss with a guy I barely know.

  The thought makes my head spin because I'm unsure whether what I did was right or wrong. Would my mom have been disappointed in me? Or is this normal?

  My mind is racing a million miles a minute, but I don’t know what to think or do.

  Sensing a panic attack coming on, I get up, hurry out of the bathroom. I spend a few minutes searching for Taylor, but eventually, I give up and power walk out of the house, leaving the party without so much as a glance back.

  When I reach the bottom of the stairway, I notice Benton in the parking lot, talking to two guys wearing very nice suits. Their hair is slicked back, and their shoes are as shiny as the sun.

  I wonder who they are? Not that it’s any of my business.

  As I start toward the sidewalk, Benton catches my gaze. His brows dip and then rise as if he's gotten an idea. He crooks his finger at me, signaling for me to come over.

  Confused, I make my way over to him. When I reach him, he grins and drapes his arm across my shoulder, the scent of his cologne and cigarettes engulfing my nostrils.

  “Dee, Zen, I’d like you to meet Zhara,” Benton introduces me, pulling me closer to my side.

  Um… why is Benton is introducing me as if we’re long lost friends?

  “Um, hey.” I give them a small wave then glance at Benton confusedly.

  He gives me a pressing look before turning back toward the two guys. “Zhara is actually my girlfriend, not my friend.”

  Huh?

  The guys blink at me in surprise. But I’m pretty sure no one is more surprised than me.

  Girlfriend? Why did he just introduce me like that? What on earth is going on?

  “Girlfriend?” The taller guy gives Benton a suspicious glance. “Why haven’t you mentioned this before? Especially with what we’ve been discussing for the last couple of months.”

  Benton gives a nonchalant shrug. "It's a recent thing, and I wanted to wait to see how the relationship played out before I brought it up." He winks at me, but he's tense. "I wanted to make sure she was going to stick before I told anyone."

  I just stare at him, totally puzzled. Why is he saying all of this?

  I could ask him, but clearly, he wants me to play along. I'm not sure if I should since I have no clue what's going on, yet I find myself remaining quiet.

  “So, she’s aware of your situation?” the taller one asks, glancing at me.

  Benton nods, pulling me against his side. “Yeah. And I promise she’s trustworthy.”

  The taller one exchanges a glance with the shorter guy. They stare at each other for a moment, as if having a silent conversation. Then the taller guy turns back to Benton.

  "I guess this gives us one less thing to do before the tour this summer, but we'll need to officially discuss this a bit more. There's a lot of stuff that needs to be taken care of, and she's going to need to sign a confidentiality agreement. You and I need to schedule a meeting soon with Larry and Marla so we can get everything straightened out ASAP. Although, this might've been easier if you'd just told us a few weeks ago."

  “Sorry, but Zhara and I were still deciding if we were going to be exclusive. Plus, I wanted a bit more time being just us, you know?” Benton replies, his fingers stroking my arm.

  If I thought I was confused before, I was wrong. I’m totally lost.

  Summer tour? Confidentiality agreement?

  "Well, now that you've decided," the guy glances at me. "Let's meet up Monday, okay, so we can discuss this further and get the paperwork filled out." He looks back at Benton. "And we'll need to decide if she'll be going with you this summer. Personally, I think it'd be a good idea. The whole point of this girlfriend idea was to keep you out of trouble. And if she is with you, I'm betting it'll help. Although, I have my doubts." He gives Benton this stern, accusing look to which Benton rolls his eyes.

  “Whatever. Doubt me all you want. I’ll prove you wrong,” Benton says to him.

  “I hope so,” he replies, then turns to leave. “I’ll let you know the time of the meeting. Until then, you might want to go keep an eye on that party you’re throwing. Make sure it doesn’t get too out of hand.”

  With that, they leave, walking across the parking lot and climbing into a sleek, black BMW with tinted windows and chrome rims. They don’t start the engine up right away, and Benton makes no move or says anything. He just waits patiently, staring at the car until they finally drive off.

  The instant the car vanishes, Benton releases a loud breath, moves his arm from my shoulders, and lowers his head. “Goddammit, why did I have to say that?” He curses several more times before his eyes land on me. Then he blinks, almost as if he forgot I was standing there, wariness crosses his expression. “So … I’m thinking you might be wondering what that was about?”

  “Um, yeah. I mean, I don’t know who those guys are … and you told them I was your girlfriend and there was all that talk about a tour and stuff, so …” I stare at him in utter confusion, waiting for him to explain.

  He scratches the corner of his eye while shifting his weight. “Look, I know I need to talk to you about this, but not here. It needs to be in private.”

  Okay, now I’m even more perplexed. “Okay …? Can't you just give me a vague explanation?"

  "Now yet." He chews on his bottom lip, eyeing me over with confliction. "I can tell you, though, that I might need a favor from you… a huge favor." He seems uneasy, which makes me apprehensive.

  I point at myself. “You need a favor from me?”

  His lips quirk. “Yeah, you.”

  “What favor?” I ask, tugging on the bottom of my shirt. Or, well, his shirt. “Should I be worried?”

  He wavers. “I’m not sure… You might not need to be, but I might.”

  My brows dip. God, he’s b
eing so weird right now. “Why’s that?”

  He smiles, softly tugging on a strand of my hair. “If you’ll come here on Sunday evening, I’ll try to explain this better.” He peers around the parking lot where a group of people we know from school are wandering around. “But I can’t talk about it out in the open. It’s too risky.”

  Every instinct I possess is telling me to decline his offer and just go home, but again, Benton gives me a pleading look, and I find myself nodding.

  His smiles then backs away toward his house. “Thanks, Zhara. And I apologize in advance for what I’m going to ask you to do.”

  Warning flags go up everywhere, but Benton spins around before I can ask any more questions.

  Sighing, I head down the sidewalk, walking close to the carport to stay in the shade. Summers can be so hot in Honeyton, and since it’s mid-June, the temperature has to be at least one hundred degrees.

  My thoughts drift from the scorching heat, though, as I replay what happened today. I actually went to a party, got kissed, and was called Benton’s girlfriend. Now, apparently, I’m going to be asked for a favor from him.

  “Holy crap,” I whisper as I reach the curb of the parking lot. “This has been the strangest day ever.”

  It makes me feel extremely nervous about what tomorrow will hold but in a weird, excited way. And that excitement stays with me all the way home. But the moment I step foot into the house, guilt creeps up on me.

  Being in the house is always sort of haunting, every spot, room, piece of furniture is a reminder of my parents. Memories are everywhere.

  “My mom would be so disappointed in me right now,” I whisper, tears burning in my eyes. “I wish I had someone to talk to.” I used to be able to talk to my twin, Alexis, but ever since my parents died, she has become different, rougher, angrier, and we no longer have the connection we used to have.

  “Zhara?” Loki, my older brother, calls out. “Is that you?”

  I tense.

  I don’t want him to see me cry. Plus, I’m wearing Benton’s shirt, which will raise some questions.

  Panicking, I quickly hurry up the stairs, moving as quietly as I can. Once I’m in my bedroom, I lock the door and hurry and change my shirt, just in case Loki comes up here to check on me. But he never does, something I’m both sad and grateful for.

  Confused. I’m always confused. And sad.

  Will this confusion and sadness ever go away?

  I’m not sure of the answer, but the more I think about it—about everything—the more tears burn in my eyes.

  I need a distraction, so I dig out my guitar and begin to play. It’s a secret talent of mine, one only my mom knew about, and she was only aware of it because she once overheard me playing.

  “Where did you get the guitar?” she asked me.

  I had startled, not realizing she was right behind me.

  “I bought it at a yard sale,” I said with a shrug. “I wanted to give it a try.” What I hadn’t said is that I wanted to see if I was good at something other than school and being good.

  “How long have you had it?” she asked, inching into my room.

  “A couple of months. I’ve been watching videos online to learn how to play.” I shrugged, feeling kind of embarrassed.

  She seemed surprised. “You can play really well for only having it for a few months. It’s really impressive.”

  “Thanks,” I said, relaxing.

  It was nice to see her proud of me over something other than being good at school. So I kept playing, learning notes, and eventually started trying to write my own songs. Although, I haven’t done that in a while. I honestly haven't played very much since my parents died. Every time I try to pluck the strings, my emotions get the best of me, and I start to cry, which happens as I play now. But I'd already been crying before, so I keep going, pouring my heart out through a half-written song, wishing my mom were here to hear me. With each pluck, my pain becomes distracted by the music, and I briefly feel at peace.

  But when the song ends, the silence sets in, and my pain takes hold of me again.

  Benton

  After the thing with Zhara happened, I return to my house. And I mean my real home, not the apartment I use to throw parties at and pretend like I'm a typical teenager. Before I leave the apartment, though, I kick everyone out. Let me tell you, they're super happy about it—insert sarcasm on my part.

  Not that I give a crap what people think about me. I never have. But Zen and Lee, my band’s manager and publicist, are trying to make me care. They gave me an ultimatum at the end of the last tour after I had gotten drunk almost every night and slept around a ton. They said either I could clean up my act, or they would do it for me. They wanted me to sober up, stop doing drugs, stop getting into fights, and let them find a girl who would pretend to be my girlfriend. One that had a good image and would hopefully clean up my image and keep me out of trouble.

  They didn’t even ask me to try to find my own girlfriend, like they believed I couldn’t do it, which I guess maybe they’re right. I’m not very good at letting people in, and relationships freak the hell out of me. But still, they’re lack of confidence in me pissed me off. Just like their ultimatum did.

  When I told them to go screw themselves, they pointed out a clause in my contract that basically said I had to do what they were telling me to do. What really pissed me off is that they’re not making the rest of the band clean up their images and they party nearly as much as I do. Although, I’m probably the worst. But in my defense, being the lead singer seems to draw more wild attention than it does with everyone else.

  But as irritated as I was, I didn't want to breach my contract, so for the next couple of months I've been working on staying out of trouble and not drinking and doing drugs so much. It's been easier since we're in Honeyton, a small town my band members and I reside in when we're not on tour. No one here knows who we are and that's kind of the point. We can just be normal teenagers, go to school, hang out, without worrying about photos getting snapped of us.

  It's actually the town I grew up in for a little bit, and it probably seems odd that no one recognizes me. But when we're rock stars, we have different names, looks, etc., to keep our identities hidden. It was part of the deal our social worker, and foster parents struck with the label when my five friends and I were discovered while playing in a band competition. Although one of my friends can't hold a tune for shit, so he's the sound guy. But he's good with that sort of stuff, and it works for him.

  We were fifteen at the time we were discovered and had been friends for years, ever since we met while bouncing through foster homes. All of us have had shitty lives, but it’s kind of what made us bond.

  After we were discovered, everything happened so quickly. We became popular fast and being in the spotlight became tiring quickly. Since we were young, one of our managers suggested we find a small town to live in while we weren’t on tour, and I’d suggested Honeyton, knowing it had a low population, was in the middle of nowhere, and was basically cut off from the rest of the world.

  It was also the last place I lived with my parents, but that’s something I try not to think about too much. But I thought about it a little bit today while I was around Zhara. It made me feel connected to her in a way I can’t describe, in a way I don’t feel comfortable with, yet somehow I feel comfortable with it.

  It really doesn’t make any sense. Not just because I’m not used to feeling those sort of things, but because I felt them with Zhara. Sure, the girl is freakin’ gorgeous, but she’s smart and good and is not my type at all. It doesn’t make sense that I’m drawn to her.

  Just like it doesn’t make sense that I randomly decided to pretend she was my girlfriend.

  “You did what?” Xavier, my friend and the drummer of the band, exclaims over the phone after I finish explaining to him what happened in the parking lot with Zhara. He’s probably the grumpiest out of all of us, but I’ve gotten used to it. “Are you stupid?”

 
"I panicked when Zen and Dee showed up," I tell him as I pace my bedroom. "I don't want them hiring some random girl to pretend to be my girlfriend. And when they showed up to talk to me more about it, Zhara was there, and she and I had…" Kissed? Bonded? What exactly did happen between us? I clear my throat. “But anyway, it probably doesn’t even matter. When I tell Zhara about this, she’ll probably never agree to it.”

  “Or you could just not tell her and let Dee and Zen find a girlfriend for you,” he replies. “Think about it, Ben. It’s Zhara Baker. People in our school call her Goodie Two Shoes all the time and for good reasons.”

  “People in our school suck,” I remind him. “And besides, we know that not everything people say is true.”

  “Yeah… I guess so.” He sighs. “But honestly, I don’t think this is even going to matter. Like you said, she’s never going to agree to do it.”

  I sink down onto the bed. “I know. But I kind of wish she would. I don’t like the idea of having some random stranger that Dee and Zen picked out following me around all summer. Plus, what if she ends up being like a super fan? Things could get really weird fast. And want if she wants to hook up? That’ll just make things awkward? With Zhara, I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that. She’s not the kind of girl who’s going to want to mess around.”

  "No, she's the kind of girl who's going to want a serious boyfriend, which is why this'll never going to work." He sighs. "Look, I know you're not a fan of having Dee and Zen hiring some stranger to date you, but it might be better that way. Things with Zhara could get complicated, and you don't do complicated, at least when it comes to relationships."

  He’s right. At almost eighteen-years-old, I’ve never dated anyone for more than a week. I could blame it on the environment I’m in all the time, but the truth is, I have a hard time getting close to anyone. The only exception is my bandmates, but I've known them forever, and they understand me. They've been through the kind of stuff that I have.

  The kind of stuff that tears the soul apart.