Fall Out Girl (9 page)

He smiled, flashing his dimple at me. “Okay, the second half of the night was the best date I ever had.”

I suppressed a smile. “It wasn’t too bad,” I said, matter-of-factly.

“Come here,” he said, pulling me into his arms and seizing my mouth. I wanted to resist, to dash away from his car with a bit of my dignity intact. Instead, my traitorous body melted into his embrace. My lips became pliant and cooperative under his demanding kiss. Definitely not how I envisioned how the night would play out.

Caleb had the upper hand, and he knew it, the bastard. He let go of me and with a cocky smile, he asked, “You still owe me a movie, can we watch it tomorrow night?”

Huh? Was he out of his mind? “Tomorrow, I um…” I was tongue-tied, not a comfortable place to be. “I’ll text you,” I mumbled and made haste to leave the car.

A few minutes later, still in a haze, I slid into a pair of pajamas and crawled under the blankets.

Sleep found me hours later.

The buzz of my phone woke me from an erotic dream where I was pressing myself against a strong chest that may or may not have belonged to Caleb.

I groaned and glanced at the digital clock. It was too early for any teenager to buy drugs. Rich kids slept late on weekends, especially after using what they bought from me.

I patted the nightstand until I found my cell. With droopy eyes, I saw Caleb’s name flash across the screen. My heart rate increased and the drowsiness fled my body.

I read the text:

Caleb:
Spend the day with me

I tapped my fingers on the screen, unable to produce a response.

Another message flashed on the screen.

Caleb:
text me when u get this. Need to see u

I snapped out of the haze and punched back.

Me:
Can’t. shltr tday

Caleb:
OK

His stoic response sent a wave of disappointment through my body.

I lay under the covers with my back pressed against the hard mattress and my eyes wide open staring at the ceiling.

I thought of Dad. I imagined how last night would have played out if he were still alive. He would have invited Caleb in, made eye contact, and gripped his hand a little too tightly when they shook. After the screening, he would glance at me with a small smile of approval. After asking where, who, when, and what, Dad would’ve given us a curfew and stood at the door waving us off.

At times like these, I missed Dad the most. I wished with every part of me that he were still with me. Then, I could be an undamaged Luna, who could date cute, dimpled boys. I would prance through the mall; arms linked with a BFF, a Frappuccino in my hand, giggling and saying things like Oh. Em. Gee. I would join the cheerleader squad. Nah, definitely not a cheerleader, but there would be so much to choose from: science club, class president, debate team, soccer varsity, even band. The sky would’ve been the limit.

When the sun came out, I got up and showered.

I went through a routine I had done hundreds of times before. However, it felt different, as if a part of me had awoken from a long hibernation. Colors were brighter, as if the murky lenses through which I had seen the world had been wiped clean. Even the sunbeam filtering through an opening in the curtain had a golden hue that colored the particles of dust dancing in the still morning air.

I took extra time smoothing my hair, applied mascara, and painted my nails metallic blue. I may have giggled when I realized the shade matched Caleb’s car. The unusual extra care with my appearance was because, secretly, I hoped Caleb would stop by the shelter to see me. I hardly recognized myself.

When I pulled in the shelter’s parking lot, I gasped, and my hand tightened its grip on the steering wheel. Caleb was standing against his car, his arms crossed over his chest, and a mischievous smile on his face. I bit my lip to avoid a smile. This boy had a funny effect on me.

He opened my door and stretched out his hand. “Good morning, love.”

I ignored the hand but managed to mumble a response.

“Hey,” he said, blocking me. He placed both hands at each side of my body, caging me against the car. His warmth made my skin tingle.

I risked a glance up, one I instantly regretted. His expressive eyes displayed an eagerness, a moment of insecurity. “Please don’t shut me out,” he said. “We need to talk.”

It was so like him to say please.

“I have to go in,” I said for lack of anything else to say. I wasn’t ready for this conversation. This new and foreign version of me needed time to recalibrate.

“Fine, I’ll wait. But we so need to talk.”

Regaining partial use of my mental function, I pushed him out of my way. “I don’t see a need for a conversation.” With fake confidence, I strolled to the building.

“Good morning, my two favorite young volunteers,” Brandon greeted us.

I smiled and shook my head. We were his only young volunteers. The other volunteers were senior citizens.

“Caleb, I don’t see you on the schedule for today,” Brandon said.

“Uh, last minute decision.” He put his hand behind his neck, having the decency to look embarrassed. “If that’s all right with you.”

Brandon glanced between the two of us, an understanding smile slithering on his face. “Not a problem. In fact, today we should be busy. Luna here can always use the help.”

Brandon was right. We were busy. It appeared every family in Westfield had decided to visit on the same day. At midday, I was exhausted but ecstatic. Amber, a nine-year-old searching for a cat to adopt, fell madly in love with Snowball. The parents, anxious to oblige, didn’t notice Snowball’s lack of social skills. Oh, well, ignorance is bliss. Hopefully, by the time they noticed Snowball’s shortcomings, they’ll be as enamored as Amber and willing to overlook it.

Caleb and Brandon entered the office to talk about taking new pictures for the website, as well as a video promoting adoption. To Brandon’s delight, Caleb was an amateur videographer. He had done a summer internship at one of the biggest TV networks in New York. He was eager to apply the acquired knowledge.

I finished feeding the dogs and left before Caleb got out of the office.

I rolled down the window, reveling in the warm breeze blowing my hair. A quarter of a mile from the shelter, I turned into the opening of an abandoned road and parked my car. Since I was wearing a tank top, I stripped off my shirt. I retrieved a bag of bird food from the trunk and hoisted it over my shoulder.

Ignoring a “Do Not Trespass” sign, I slid through a gap in the broken gate and trailed down the narrow dirt path. The sun was high and the sky a clear azure. A flock of birds, congregating to migrate south, flew over my head.

Shortly after I had gotten my license, I had found this place. I liked everything about it. But mostly the solitude it granted. If the shelter made me feel closer to Dad than this would be my “thin place.” A sanctuary where Dad’s presence was so tangible, I could hear his deep, low voice and feel his strong hand holding mine.

Deep in the wood, all I heard was the quiet chirp of the birds and the constant skittering of the windblown leaves. Finally, I reached the “Bridge to Terabithia,” as I had named the stream. I adjusted the bag over my shoulder. I stopped to observe the deep grooves on the smooth rocks. They had been carved by centuries of water streaming down the creek. I inhaled deeply, taking in the soothing peace. Ferns covered the ground with a luscious green. I leaped on the moss-covered boulders, crossing to the other side of the stream.

Then I trudged through dense vegetation, pushing away branches and bushes to uncover my “Secret Garden.” Yeah, I know, cheesy book reference. But I was once Daddy’s little girl. He read me those books, and I can’t help but to recall them when I feel close to him.

My willow tree unveiled before me. I wish I could’ve hugged it; that’s how much I liked the tree. It was my favorite place on earth, heck, in the universe. I dropped the package on the ground and tilted my head up. With arms wide open, I embraced the harmony which the sacred place offered. A warm breeze blew, and the long withies, cascading like a curtain, swished around me in a sweet welcoming.

The birds, sensing my presence, chirped and gawked before taking flight. I smiled. They would be back for the food.

I noticed that all the birdfeeders, thirteen of them, were empty. The birdhouse, hanging high on the tree, currently housed three blue jays eggs. I squealed in excitement. I wondered if they had hatched. I retrieved the feeders, lined them on the ground, and refilled them. It was an extra expense to feed the birds weekly, but I gladly paid. My father would have approved of that one act of kindness on my part. And though I had become someone he certainly would despise, I couldn’t totally disappoint him. I needed one act of redemption.

I WAS HANGING a feeder when I heard the crackling of twigs. My body reacted with a typical fight or flight response. My messenger bag was in the trunk of the car, but I had a pocket knife on me. I placed the feeder on the ground and snapped the knife open. A desperate junkie would do anything for a fix. A momentary distraction could cost my life.

Think, Luna, I commanded myself as my eyes scanned the surrounding. The footsteps, as subtle as a herd of elephants, became louder, and I knew whoever approached was careless, which was a relief. If they were dangerous, whoever it was would have had the sense to be quieter.

Long fingers parted the bushes, and the beautiful face of Caleb peeked out, dimples and all.

I put my pocketknife away and planted my hands on my hips. “Following me just upgraded you from irritating to psycho freak.”

“You know how to make a guy feel welcome,” he said, removing twigs and dry leaves from his hair. The same hair my fingers ran through the night before. The memory sent a shiver through me.

“What are you doing here?” I raised my hand. “No, don’t bother. How did you find me here?”

“Birdfeeders?” He pointed to the feeders surrounding me.

“No shit, Sherlock.” I raised a brow.

“You feed birds.”

“Way to state the obvious.”

“Wow,” he said, amused. “If I were to tell people, no one would believe it.” He sat on his haunches and examined a feeder. “I know, I know, I don’t have a death wish, so your rep is safe with me. But have you noticed I’m learning all your secrets?” he said, peering up with his unnerving grin.

“Well? How did you find me here?”

I grabbed a feeder and turned to resume my task of hanging them back up.

He took a step and stood so close, I could sense his warmth on my back. “Here, let me help,” he said, and his breath caressed the damp skin on my neck. “I saw your car parked by the road and followed the trail leading to the stream.” He took the feeder from my fingers. With his stunning height, he effortlessly hung it.

My back was now touching his chest, and my heart went haywire. “I crossed the river, a little luck and voilà, here I am.” Both of his hands glided along my arms in a slow, agonizing caress. He bent his head and whispered in my ear, “Though I truly think it’s the gravitational pull you have on me that guided my steps.” His breath was warm on my ear, raising goose-bumps on my skin. My brain was suddenly unable to produce coherent speech. My head fell against his chest, and a mortifying moan rose from my parched throat.

His lips kissed a sensitive spot behind my ear as a hand slid on around my waist, pulling me flush against him. My legs weakened, threatening to give out. He trailed soft lips along my neck, kissing and sucking. Turning me to face him, he cupped my face, and his mouth seized mine.

Oh, boy, I was a goner.

His kiss was gentle, probing, tentative. My hands laced behind his neck and I angled my head, giving him better access to my mouth. My body, with a will of its own, inched closer to his. A slow ache stirred in my belly. My skin tingled, craving his touch.

Caleb guided me until my back touched the rough bark of the willow tree. His hands hungrily slid up and down my thighs. He pulled his face inches away and asked, “Tell me you don’t like when I kiss you.” His teeth rasped on my lower lip as he sucked it into his mouth. “Tell me you don’t want me as much as I want you.” His husky voice annihilated any trace of resistance in me. I was his as if I had been born for that very purpose as if my body were a puppet, and he was the puppeteer pulling the strings. His mouth traveled down my neck, over the exposed skin of my chest. His hand cupped my breast, and I arched into his touch. My body throbbed and ached for him.

I was intoxicated and dizzy. Numb to the world, but hyper-aware of every nerve begging for his touch. My hands hiked under his shirt. His muscles tensed under my fingers. I breathed in his scent, allowing it to permeate my lungs. He kissed my lips, held me close. I became all sensation. Overwhelmed, pliable. I surrendered body, mind, and soul to the assault of his touch, of his mouth. I allowed all five senses to meld together and become one massive explosion.

I closed my eyes. A million sparkling bubbles floated across my closed lids. Dandelions wafted through the air. Stars collided. I thought of cotton candy and amusement parks, popcorn and movies, hot cocoa and fire crackling, burnished orange leaves swirling down on a magnificent display, spring blossoms, summer storms, fireflies on summer evenings, the full moon, sunsets, first snowfalls, ocean smells… a spiral of all things nice, swirling on a kaleidoscope of perfect moments, of a perfect life. My body floated like a paper lantern.