Catherine (16 page)

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Authors: April Lindner

Tags: #Classics, #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Juvenile Fiction / Classics, #Juvenile Fiction / Love & Romance

BOOK: Catherine
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“Your guest room.”

“Wherever. To
make out
with your boyfriend.” A moment later, almost in disbelief, she added, “You’re going
to have sex with him.”

“Since when are you so judgmental? We’re in love, Jack. This is totally it.”

“What if you get pregnant?”

“We’ll be careful.”

“What if my mom comes home early? She does that sometimes, you know.”

“We’ll climb down the fire escape. Listen, Jack. I’d do it for you.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.” Jackie straightened in her seat and stared at the blackboard.
I knew she was thinking of all the things I’d done for her. Helping her spy on Q when
we were little and he was still her Prince Charming. Standing up for her when the
girls at school made fun of her less-than-stylish shoes. Not to mention being her
best friend when she was the new girl at school.

Just then, Mrs. Farley started taking attendance.

“Think about it,” I whispered. “That’s all I ask. I promise I won’t change.” I added
the last part because I knew Jackie. She wasn’t worried about my getting pregnant
or her mother coming home early. Or maybe she was, but she was more worried because
I was moving ahead, starting a new phase of my life, and she wasn’t there yet. She
was worried my feelings for Hence would change our friendship.

Jackie shot me a narrow-eyed look and folded her hands in the perfect imitation of
a prim schoolmarm. We didn’t talk to each other again until lunch, when I was relieved
to see her sitting at our usual table. I slipped in beside her. “Want my cookie?”

“You can’t buy me with oatmeal raisin,” Jackie grumbled, but something in her voice
told me she was about to give in.

“It’s chocolate chip,” I said, giving her side a gentle you-can’t-stay-mad-at-me poke.

“Sometimes I hate you.”

“But mostly you love me.” I threw my arms around her and squeezed. “Is that the new
perfume your mom bought you?
Très, très chic.
I like it.”

“Quit buttering me up.” But Jackie was hugging me back. That’s how I knew for certain
she was on our side.

When I reached the front steps of Jackie’s town house, Hence was already there, wearing
a shirt I’d never seen before, a crisp white button-down that looked gorgeous against
his skin. He still didn’t have a jacket on, and when he took my hand, his touch, usually
so warm, was ice cold. Without a word—not even a hello to Hence—Jackie unlocked her
front door and flung it open for us to go in first. “Why do I feel like a pimp?” she
muttered under her breath as I passed her.

“Shhh,” I whispered in her ear. “You’re Cupid.”

I led Hence up two flights of stairs to the sunny guest room, with its itchy plaid
bedspread. It smelled like potpourri and lemon Pledge.

Hence stood in the middle of the room, looking to me to make the first move, I guess.
I clicked the door gently shut behind us.

“It’s okay,” I told him. “Jackie will warn us if her mother comes home early, but
she hardly ever does.” I went over to him and took both his hands in mine. “You’re
so cold,” I said. “Were you waiting long?”

Hence nodded. We’d both been waiting—whole agonizing days—for a chance to be alone
together. Still, we hesitated, unsure how to begin. In Jackie’s room, just under ours,
the stereo switched on, playing death metal—a kind of music Jackie didn’t even like.
Well, if she thought she could ruin the mood for us, she was
wrong. I smiled up at Hence apologetically, and that was the moment he chose to kiss
me, his lips softer than soft and tasting of the cold afternoon air.

“You don’t have to feel like a pimp,” I reported to Jackie after Hence had left for
The Underground. “All we did was kiss. He didn’t even try to touch me.” I sat beside
Jackie on the bottom bunk of her bed, where we’d once built pillow forts and I’d helped
her write love letters to my brother, where she’d made me laugh so hard I’d fallen
off the top bunk and needed stitches in my head.

“Humph.” Jackie scooted over to make room. The heavy metal had been replaced with
the Fine Young Cannibals’ “She Drives Me Crazy”—probably a commentary on me, come
to think of it.

“Nice music,” I said. “Much better than before.”

Jackie humphed again.

I sang softly in her ear. “I drive you crazy, ooh, ooh, like no one else, ooh, ooh.”
Then I sprang to my feet and did a little dance to make her laugh, which it did. I
yanked her to her feet, and we did the moves we’d perfected in middle school, and
that’s how Mrs. Gray found us, giggling and doing the Safety Dance and the Electric
Boogaloo till our sides were sore.

For the next few days, Hence and I met at Jackie’s guest room hideaway. Hence had
only an hour-long break each afternoon, and
he had to get back and forth from The Underground, which left us with forty minutes
alone together. Even so, he was late getting back to work once, and Dad gave him a
friendly talking-to and a warning that it had better not happen again.

At night, as I tried to fall asleep, I swear I felt actual pain at being away from
Hence, especially knowing he was just five floors away, missing me, too. But being
alone together for that little chunk of time each weekday was like heaven, even if
the guest room door didn’t lock and we could hear Jackie’s clever musical commentary
wafting up from the floor below. “Like a Virgin.” “Keep Your Hands to Yourself.” “Another
One Bites the Dust.” When Jackie fired up that last one, I couldn’t help myself; I
burst into giggles, and couldn’t bring myself to explain to Hence why I was laughing.

The moment his lips touched mine, though, everything else faded away and it was like
we were in a suite at the Empire Hotel, on a plush bed with violins playing and sunshine
streaming in to bathe us in liquid gold. All we did was kiss—a full forty minutes
of nothing but lip-lock, until I thought I would explode if we didn’t go any further.

I’d done my share of making out before, but the guys I’d been with had always been
in much more of a hurry than I was. I would break up with them when they got too pushy.
Unlike some of the girls at school, I was never in a big rush to lose my virginity;
I’d always figured I would know when the time was right.

As it turned out, I did know. After a few afternoon make-out sessions with Hence,
I
absolutely
knew. The tingling I’d never felt before with any other boy had become an actual
ache, and still his hands hadn’t once left my hips.

I spent the weekend in a state of restlessness. On Saturday, Dad kept Hence so busy
he didn’t even get a break, and on Sunday he had rehearsal with Riptide all afternoon
and most of the night. By Monday morning, I didn’t think I could stand the wait until
we were alone together again.

That afternoon, in the guest room, we kissed and kissed and kissed. When I couldn’t
stand it for another second, I pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” Hence asked, his lips as puffy and cherry-red as mine felt. He looked
worried as I got to my feet and took a step back from the bed.

In reply, I unbuttoned the top of my school uniform. Underneath it, I’d worn my nicest
lacy pink bra. “Don’t you want to go further?”

Hence closed his eyes. “Of course I do.” When his eyes opened again, they seemed bigger
and darker than ever—like bottomless pools. “I didn’t want to rush you.”

I unzipped my skirt. Beneath it, I was wearing matching underwear. I let the skirt
fall and climbed back onto the bed, leaning over Hence so my hair fell around his
face like a curtain. “You’re not rushing me.”

This time when we kissed, his hands explored me, then unhooked my bra. His lips on
my skin were softer than I could have imagined. Because my hands were trembling, Hence
helped me unzip his pants. Without his clothes, he was even more amazing than I had
imagined, his skin smooth and mocha sweet. Seeing him like that—leaning back on his
elbows, eager and exposed—made my heart inflate.

I wasn’t exactly sure what to do next, but he took charge. To
my surprise, he’d come prepared—he had a condom in his pocket. He was careful not
to hurt me, but even so, it did hurt. I couldn’t imagine wanting to feel that pain
with anyone else.

Afterward, we held each other for a while longer, though we knew he was taking a chance
on being late for work again. I kissed his chin. “That was my first time.”

He nodded.

“Was it yours?”

He shook his head no.

“Never mind,” I said. “I don’t want to know.” For once, I didn’t mind his reticence.
I couldn’t bear to think of Hence with anyone else, no matter how casual the encounter
had been. As long as I didn’t know the details, I could pretend I was the only one
he’d ever touched with that look of wonder on his face.

One day a distributor didn’t make his delivery when he was supposed to, and Frank
the assistant manager called in sick, so Hence didn’t get his usual break. I went
straight from school to Jackie’s only to find he wasn’t there. So I talked Jackie
into putting off her homework and renting a video—one of those romantic comedies she
loved so much. We microwaved popcorn and settled in, but of course we had so much
to talk about that we hardly watched the movie at all.

“You’re going to tell me everything, right?” she asked. “What it’s like?”

It was a relief to talk about Hence to the only person who knew
he and I were together. Sometimes it seemed like I’d stepped into an alternate universe
where people walked around on the ceiling and nobody around me even noticed anything
was strange. Pretending I wasn’t in love hadn’t been easy. The week before, David
Hasmith had asked me to the winter formal and I hadn’t been able to come up with a
reason for saying no, but of course I couldn’t say yes. He looked hurt, and soon everybody
was looking at me like I was a freak because David was popular and lots of girls would
jump at the chance to go
anywhere
with him. My turning him down confirmed everything they already thought about what
a weirdo I was.

Like I cared.

In another life, I might have said yes to David. He was cute enough, and less of a
self-involved jerk than the rest of the popular guys. I probably would have been thrilled
to go shopping with Jackie and her mom for the right dress. But I was glad to be in
my life, exactly as it was. No—more than glad. I felt like I had been born for that
exact moment, my life opening up the way crocuses do, popping out of the snow just
when you can’t stand another minute of winter.

I struggled to find the words to answer Jackie’s question. Even when I wrote in my
journal, where I’d always done my best thinking, it was hard to find the right words.
I wanted to get down every detail so I’d never forget a single one: Jackie’s footsteps
in the room below ours; Hence’s warm, smooth skin; the muscles of his legs and the
heat of his lips. How even though we wanted to shout, we had to whisper.

Afterward, we held each other, my hands wound in his damp hair. The afternoon sun
rippled on the blanket and he smelled
deliciously like himself, and also like the outdoors, the scent of wind and fresh-cut
grass clinging to his skin even though he’d walked through exhaust-choked city streets
to get to me.

“We fit so perfectly,” I said, and Jackie hid her face in her hands and screeched
with laughter. “No, not like that! Or not
just
like that. Even when we’re standing up, the top of my head comes to just below his
chin, so he can rest his chin on my head. And sometimes he knows what I’m thinking
without my having to say anything.”

“You’re so lucky,” Jackie said. “I don’t think I’m ever going to fall in love like
that.” Over the last week or so, she had mellowed out about my whole situation, and
had cut out the musical commentary. It seemed like she’d come to accept my love for
Hence as the inevitability it was.

“Of course you will,” I assured her.

“There’s no ‘of course’ about it. I’ve never seen anything like the two of you. The
way you look at each other.” She picked at the pilling on her bedspread, making a
little pile of fluffballs. “It’s so intense it’s almost scary.”

I couldn’t honestly disagree. Though I was sure Jackie would fall in love someday
with someone who would adore her, I doubted any other couple had ever felt the way
Hence and I did about each other.

“Besides”—Jackie added a few more pills to her pile—“I don’t even want to think about
guys. I’m still recovering from your brother.”

I sighed. Hadn’t Jackie resigned herself to Q’s taste in giraffe-thin exchange students?
“He’s not worth your time.”

She looked puzzled, and I realized that as far as she knew, Q was still the handsome,
athletic big brother who had protected us from the mean kids in elementary school.
Sure, she knew about Bad Quentin, but she’d never seen him in action, and I’d always
downplayed that side of him, not wanting to share my brother’s weirdness, even with
my very best friend.

I chose my words carefully. “If he can’t see how fabulous you are, he’s an idiot.”

Jackie waved me off, embarrassed. After that, we tried to watch the movie, but before
long Jackie’s mom came home from work and started asking about homework, so I figured
that was my cue to leave.

I hurried home in the dark, frustrated at not having had my alone time with Hence.
It seemed so stupid and unfair that we had to sneak around like our being together
was some kind of crime, when it was really the most natural, beautiful thing in our
lives. Besides, it was scary being at Q’s mercy, knowing he could rat us out at any
moment. Lately he’d been putting in a lot of hours at the club. He said he was saving
up for spring break in Cancun, but I couldn’t help thinking he had other motivations.
When I did my homework downstairs, I’d overhear him ordering Hence around in a way
that got nastier when Dad wasn’t within earshot. But Hence couldn’t complain without
risking the loss of the job he so desperately wanted to hang on to.

To him The Underground was still the Promised Land, and Dad was a hero. A few days
earlier I’d gone downstairs to find the two of them immersed in another of their impromptu
jam sessions, Dad encouraging Hence to take a solo. From the way Dad
smiled, I could tell he was impressed with Hence’s guitarwork. I hid out in the shadows,
not wanting to ruin the moment. When the song was over, they laughed together. They
played a few more songs before Dad noticed I was listening.

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