My Life as an Album (Books 1-4)

by LJ Evans

  We ended up at the bowling alley anyway. And a bunch of the guys and their girlfriends showed up, as well as Wynn and Peter. We played girls against the guys, and it was so much fun both flirting with you and teasing you at the same time. What was really fun was the way you tried to distract me by kissing me when it was my turn, or playing with my hair, or doing anything you could to make that zing go through my body and make me tingle in places that I’d never really thought about too much. Unfortunately for you, the tingle set me on fire which made me do really well.

  Bowling was the one exception with ball games and me. I couldn’t play football worth a squat, but I could aim down the alley. Maybe it was because I wasn’t really a team player and bowling was more of a one-on-one thing. Who knows? Anyway, the girls did pretty decent, and for a while I was leading them to a win, but we didn’t win. Who would expect us to against a bunch of jocks?

  After, you took me home. And we sat in your car for a long time. Music on, you played with the hair at my face, and ran a finger down my cheek, and just stared at me with those intense, mosaic eyes of yours. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and yet, like I was breathing a million times a minute.

  “I really am an idiot,” you said.

  “Yep. One hundred percent, prime time, idiot,” I said all breathless.

  “But, Cami…” You paused, and I just nodded. “I’m terrified of screwing this up. Of hurting you. Of being the bad guy. I’d be able to beat up anybody else that messed with you, what do I do if the bad guy is me?”

  “Just kiss me, idiot,” I said for the second time in two days.

  And you did. You pulled me up close and kissed me in that way that you’d kissed me the day before. Like nothing else in the world mattered but the two of us. I think I fell in love with you all over again. For the third time? Or the fourth? Does it matter? I would fall in love with you many more times. I could have stayed there all night, in your arms, kissing you.

  But my mama flicked on the porch light. It was kind of funny. It was at five minutes to eleven, but it made us realize she was serious about the eleven o’clock thing. She’d never really been serious about my curfew before because she’d known I was always with you, and that you’d take care of me.

  Now, I bet she wasn’t sure she wanted to think about what that meant. It made us both smile and chuckle a little. You walked me to the porch and the door. Not that you hadn’t made sure I made it home safely before, but it just felt, well, different. You kissed me one more time. That was definitely different. You squeezed my hand, winked, and said you’d see me later.

  I’d barely washed up and climbed into my pajamas when my phone buzzed at me. It was on vibrate so it wouldn’t wake Mama, but I smiled when I saw it was you.

  I answered it. You asked what I was doing. I said something silly about just getting back from a really good date, and you asked me to tell you about it just like you would have if we were just friends.

  We talked for a long time. I don’t know about what. Stupid stuff I’m sure. And I don’t remember when it happened, but I fell asleep. Talking to you. Listening to you.

  ♫ ♫ ♫

  You know, when you look back over your past, there are moments that you can remember with crystal like clearness. And no matter how much time goes by, you think of that memory, that moment, and it’s like you are right there. Like no time has passed. Your body remembers it, too, because you feel the same emotions and tingling inside. Your breathing changes, you feel like you are right there all over again. And then, there are times that you can barely recall. They are like the flickering lights of an old black and white movie. Images without sound that fade in and out.

  That first summer with you. I remember all of it. Crystal clear. Every date. Every kiss. Everything you said to me. It’s burned into my body like a tattoo. It won’t ever leave me. It was like heaven on earth. There are other memories we shared, later, that are the same way. But maybe because that summer was the first time we were ever together that way, it holds a special place in my heart.

  We spent that summer like we had all summers, mostly at the lake. But I still had dive practice, you still were working out, keeping in shape for football, and you were still doing some part-time work at the car dealership. I think our daddies were still hoping you’d want to go into the family business. So, our days weren’t always spent together.

  But, the ones that were…well…they were happy dreams. We’d still race to the dock in the middle of the lake like we did before, but when we’d get there, you’d kiss the hell out of me and then toss me into the lake when we got too hot and heavy. You’d still race me to the shore, and I still won a lot which would make you grab me and kiss me like there was no tomorrow.

  We stayed out late at the lake with the usual crowd. Barbecuing, playing loud music, and dancing. I’d never really been into dancing. It had always felt kind of stupid. Like people trying to act like lemurs or something. But with you, God, I loved it. Because even when it was a fast song, you found a way to touch me. And let’s face it, I loved you touching me. I’d always loved you touching me… even with your eyes.

  It was magic. Pure and simple magic. The whole summer. I think I smiled more in those eight weeks than I smiled my entire life. What I would love to do is write down every single moment, but…you know those moments. You experienced them too. So… what’s the point? I can’t share with you anything new, anything you didn’t know. Except maybe…maybe, that those were the first times in my life that I felt truly and completely whole. When you were there, holding my hand, wrapping your arm around my waist, and tucking me close up against your body where I fit like the last piece of a puzzle.

  ♫ ♫ ♫

  A weird thing did happen that summer though. All of a sudden, there were a lot more guys flirting with me. Guys that had graduated with you, guys that would be seniors when we went back to school in the fall. A lot of football players.

  You hated it, which of course made me love it more. I didn’t ever start the flirting. But I could keep up with it. And you know that I was always about getting your attention. And flirting with other boys definitely did that. As soon as you saw it, you’d get all possessive with your hand around my waist and your eyes going that deep, lake color that scared the hell out of the guys.

  It was like you’d broken some kind of invisible barrier that had surrounded me before. Maybe it was because I’d been off limits in a way that Mia still was, when I was viewed as “Jake’s responsibility.” Like a “little sister.” Now that you were dating me and kissing me, it somehow made it okay for everyone else to see me in that light too. There’d been that brief time, when I’d first found my girl clothes and you’d found Brittney, that the boys had tried some, but since then, they’d all abandoned ship. Partly because of me, but mostly, I think, because of you.

  Or maybe they were attracted to me because I was glowing. And smiling. And nice. And let’s face it, I wasn’t usually very nice. Most people would still describe me as prickly. And I had been. Still was. But now you’d lit me up inside. So, it was like I was an open flame and the boys were the moths drawn to it, as cliché as that may be.

  ♫ ♫ ♫

  For eight weeks, we were enchanted with each other in a way that hadn’t been possible before, but, then, the enchantment wore off some because you started packing. You had to get to Knoxville early to start football practice, and that reality hit us both hard, smack in the face, like water hits your stomach in a belly flop.

  We were quieter in our times alone. My smile faded some. My mama noticed it, but didn’t say anything. She’d been watching for it. She’d known it was coming that first night when she reminded me you were going away.

  It wasn’t that I had expected you to change your mind and stay. God, I didn’t even want that for you. I wanted you to go and be the football god that you were. To take the world by storm the way you’d taken our town and my heart. But I couldn’t stand the thought of life witho
ut you. My panic attacks came back. The twisted pain in my stomach returned. I tried to hide it. Tried not to dim our time together with the blind fear that would take over when I thought of you leaving.

  The weekend before you left, we ditched all the friends, and headed for the lake. You’d borrowed your daddy’s truck again. Thank God Mama didn’t know that.

  Instead of parking in our normal spot, you four-wheeled it out onto the grass until we were parked under our favorite tree with its arms outstretched. The tree we laid under when Blake called out to us all those years ago. The tree you’d been under when I’d walked out of the lake bleeding for the first time.

  It was our tree.

  I could almost see it stretching its arms higher in a victory dance for me tonight. Like it had all summer. It had silently cheered me on.

  We’d packed a cooler full of food, and you’d loaded the back of the truck with sleeping bags and blankets. I hadn’t really given much thought to it all, other than the thought of being able to be with you. Like I always wanted to be with you.

  The sun was almost gone, and the sky was that deep purple-gray that’s there before the black, when we crawled into the back, sharing my mama’s potato salad and your mama’s fried chicken. We’d done this kind of thing a million times in summers past. But it was like tonight was set aside from the rest in some way. You had the music going in the background. Some of our favorite songs that were now in a list called Cami. Cami…

  “Just think. In a week, you’ll be stuck in the city hardly being able to see the stars,” I said casually.

  You lay back and looked up at them. I joined you, in my favorite position, my body tucked the length of yours, head on the arm that you had behind your head.

  “Everything will change,” you said a little wistfully. If a macho guy can be wistful, I guess.

  “Stop being a wuss,” I said to lighten the mood. And that did the trick, for a while. You started tickling me, and we were wrestling, me trying to get away, and you trying to get every spot that you knew was ticklish on me. I’d lost my advantage because you weren’t afraid of touching me pretty much anywhere anymore. Which was a thrill and a curse.

  As always, it ended with me on the bottom, and you on top. This time, you didn’t roll off to go get a snack. Instead, you stared at me for that same long, intense moment, but then started kissing me slow and delicious like there would never be another moment like this. And, in some way, there wouldn’t be.

  The heat of you soaked into me like the sun on the dock in the summer. You touched my face, my neck, and stroked my breasts. I couldn’t help my body’s reaction to you, I arched up into you, and I felt your hardness on my leg.

  And right then, right then, I knew that I didn’t want you to go away without us having gotten as close as two people could possibly get. I pulled at your t-shirt and it came off, followed by my t-shirt. I was wearing my sexy underwear again. Well…pretty much all summer I’d been wearing them or something similar.

  You ran a finger under the lace of my bra, and I felt like every part of my body was going to explode. You removed your lips from my mouth and kissed me all the way down to the button on my jean shorts. Those shorts were gone in two seconds flat. I’m not sure how you did it. But you’d obviously had lots of practice. I think I should have sent a thank you card to the Kaylas, Brittneys, and Ambers of the world.

  Your hands were so warm and did such delicious things to my body. At first, you didn’t react when I undid your button and tugged at your jeans. When I tentatively moved my hand into them, and stroked you through your boxers, you kind of came to your senses.

  You pulled my hands up and kissed them and rolled away from me. We were both breathing hard. I felt the cool breeze touch my skin, and I shivered.

  I didn’t want you off of me.

  I moved up close and kissed your bare chest all the way down past your belly button to the top of the boxers, and you groaned. But you shifted away from me and pulled me up to hug me against your chest.

  “Why do you keep stopping me?” I asked.

  “We have to stop,” you said with a voice so husky and low that I could hardly hear it.

  “I don’t want to stop,” I told you, honest as I always was with you. I looked into your eyes in the dark, and I swear they flashed like lightning.

  You kissed me hard and intense, but it was different. More like a kiss of reverence or adoration.

  “I know. But we need to.”

  “I have protection if you didn’t bring any,” I said a little confused.

  Then the flash in your eyes was anger.

  “Do you think I would ever consider doing that with you without having protection?”

  I was more confused than ever. Why were you angry at me?

  “I’m just saying. I’d like to do this. I’ve thought about it a lot. I want you to be my first,” I told you, putting it all out there.

  You pushed me away, buttoned your jeans, and pulled on your t-shirt. I could tell you were angry by the way you held your back so tight. I sat up and hugged you from behind.

  “Why are you mad?”

  You stopped and held my hands that had surrounded you from the back, but you didn’t turn to face me.

  “You’re insane if you think I’ll do this with you. God, Cami, you're fifteen.”

  “So! How old were you?”

  “That’s totally different.”

  “Why, because you’re a boy? Haven’t I always been more boy than girl?”

  “I’m leaving.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not going to take your…well…and then up and leave,” you said with anger and bitterness.

  “Not even if I want this? You wouldn’t do it for me?”

  You were quiet for a long time, but then you shook your head no. And then I was angry. I felt like you were treating me like a kid again. Like the next-door neighbor that needed protection. Like you had to look out for me to save me from myself.

  I pushed away, tugged on my clothes, and climbed out of the bed of the truck.

  “Cam?” you called out to me.

  I ignored you and walked to the edge of the lake, debating whether I’d dive in to take out some of my anger in a good long swim or just storm around some more. I kicked at the dirt and threw some pebbles, skipping them across the jewel-like surface of the still lake.

  I heard you climb out of the truck. I heard you walking toward me, crunching the grass with your boots. You tried to pull me into a hug, but I wouldn’t let you.

  “Don’t be mad at me,” you said.

  “Then stop trying to protect me from everything.”

  You were quiet.

  “If I don’t, who will?”

  I pushed you. “God, I don’t need a big brother. I wanted a boyfriend tonight. Not some god damn hero.”

  “What are you really mad about? Is it so bad that I’m not gonna screw your brains out and then leave you here while I go play the college kid?”

  “I’m sure someone else would oblige me.”

  “So that’s all you want? Just to have sex for the first time? Like diving off the cliff, Cam’s just got to prove she can do something?”

  “You’re an idiot!” I yelled at you, partly because I was embarrassed to think that maybe some of what you said was true. I did want to prove that I wasn’t a kid anymore, and having sex with you was definitely a step in that direction.

  “No. Tonight, you’re the idiot!” you said looking down at me, eyes flashing.

  And then I did something that surprised us both…I burst out crying. In the middle of a fight? I was more a punch-you-in-the-face kind of girl. And here I was crying. You tried to wrap your arms around me, but I pushed you away and stormed back to the truck. I slid into the passenger seat and slammed the door.

  It took you a while to join me. I was in the middle of a good cry—hiccups, blubbers, and snot—by the time you joined me in the truck cab. You hand
ed me some tissues from God knows where but didn’t say anything. You started the engine and drove toward home. I didn’t slide over to the middle of the cab seat like I had all summer when we were in your daddy’s truck. I sat at the passenger seat, crying and fuming at myself for crying.

  When we got home, it was still early. Mama hadn’t turned on the porch light. But I didn’t want to face you. I felt humiliated and embarrassed. I’m not sure if it was because you’d turned me away or because you were right, and I’d been doing it for all the wrong reasons.

  All I knew was that for the first time in eight weeks, I couldn’t face you. Couldn’t bear the thought of you kissing me good night on the porch in the gentle way you’d come to do all summer. I thought if you kissed me, I might scream in anger and frustration and sadness.

  Instead, I ran inside, up to my room, and continued to cry while I destroyed more pillows in frustration at you and at me.

  ♫ ♫ ♫

  When I woke, I felt like my head might explode. I wasn’t used to crying so much. I felt like I had the flu. My eyes were all puffy and my nose felt like I’d need a gallon of Nyquil in order for it to feel normal.

  I wasn’t sure what had woken me because it was barely gray outside. The sun hadn’t quite come up yet, but it was light out. Maybe it was just the enormous headache I had. I sat up and fought off a wave of nausea while trying not to think about our fight.

  That’s when I heard it. A clack on my window. I went to it, pulled back the curtain just in time to see a pebble hit the glass and startle the heck out of me. I gave a little squeal, dropped the curtain for a second, and then went back to it.

  My window looked out into our backyards. And I could make out in the early morning light, red petals strewn under my window. And the petals led all the way from the window to our tree house.

  I couldn’t see you. But I knew you were out there. My heart flipped over and began to beat a steady rhythm. I dropped the curtain and ran to the mirror. I looked like shit. My hair was a bird’s nest. My nose was red. My eyes were like little slits in my face, but I didn’t have much time. A pebble hit the window again.