Four Play: A Collection of Novellas (12 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Number Two: The Nissan

November 12, 2013 (Ten months ago)

Since the last time was a two-and-a-half-minute disaster, I knew I needed to distract myself as much as possible by pleasing
her
first. The whole stamina thing was going to be a lot tougher than I thought.

Sex wasn’t like I’d always thought it would be.

The act of it was fine, but I was completely devoid of emotional attachment. I’m not sure if that’s normal or not, but that was never really my goal anyway.

It just struck me as odd.

Where was the excitement? Where were those elusive butterflies that I was supposed to feel when I kissed her for the first time? Where was the tingling and nervousness and timidity? There was nothing except my hormones. I might as well have been having sex with a blowup doll.

I was eager again that time, but Emily wasn’t as quick to give up her virginity as Peggy had been several months before. It had taken me a long time to try it again. To be honest, I didn’t think we were going to have sex at all until she unzipped my fly.

I think I need to start a spreadsheet on this subject, because it’s fascinating. How is a guy supposed to know what a girl wants unless she asks him? There must be signs, some kind of signals they give us that are more subtle than Emily’s.

I was really still just a kid. I turned seventeen the month prior. If Emily knew how scared I was that night of doing the right – or wrong – things, she’d probably think I was a wimp. She’d also probably kill me if she knew I was trying to seduce her for practice.

I went down on her that night. That was a first for me. And yet still, no butterflies.

I just knew it would be different with Miss Shields. It had to be. She was the one who would make me get goose bumps. She would be the one to make me feel like I was whole again. Miss Shields really was the woman I’d always dreamed of.

But that night with Emily was pretty run of the mill. Kind of like a Nissan: she was shiny and new, but there was nothing exceptional about her.

Was I a complete asshole for comparing her to a car?

I was able to make her come after two hours of kissing and groping, and I lasted four minutes inside her—almost twice my record.

Yet still, I had no connection. No spark. Nothing was mysterious or intriguing about Emily herself. All I could do after that point was hope that when I finally got there, Miss Shields would be the one to bring it out in me.

Chapter Fourteen

Again, she’s gone.

I expected to wake when she left, thinking I’d feel her move. But I must have slept through it. A part of me feels like I’m hungover and that last night couldn’t be real. But as I stand and look around the ruins, I can see the sun beginning to rise, shining a light down to the spot where I had slept. Something glimmers in the sun.

I don’t know if she intentionally left it behind for me or if it fell off her, but I find her small locket lying in the dirt. Snatching it up, I shove it in my pocket and head for home.

In the shower, I think of her.

Arleen.

On the ride to school, I can’t stop either.

It’s still Arleen.

As I walk up the steps into school, I wonder where she is.

Not a single second passes where she’s not in my thoughts, and I think I’ve gone completely insane.

I’m worried about her.

I’m not even hormonal—at least, I don’t think I am. My mind and body aren’t reacting to her like they do with Miss Shields.

Miss Shields
.
Fuck. It’s Thursday.

I have a research study group for debate tonight. I don’t even remember what we’re debating.

I’m losing control, and I can’t concentrate on anything. My parents are probably going to fly back from wherever the hell they are when they find out I’m failing every class this semester. That’s all I need: Mom and Dad meeting with the principal and finding out I have no plan for college.

Yet even as I sit down in first period, all I can think about is that in fifty minutes I get to walk down the Math hallway and see Arleen—even though I’m pretty sure she won’t even look at me.

And after all this, I have no intention of getting into her pants. In fact, I want everyone to stay the hell away from her. She’s definitely not my Number Ten.

In fact, the thought of a Number Ten isn’t quite as appealing as it used to be.

Isn’t it nice that my conscience decides it wants to be a part of my life when it’s most inconvenient for me? Aren’t I supposed to be screwing Miss Shields’s brains out in two weeks? Katie “I-Was-Born-To-Fuck-You”
Shields? It’s a simple goal! I just need to stick to the plan!

But I’ve barely thought about her since she mentioned adjoining rooms.

Where are my eighteen-year-old urges when I need them?

The hour passes and I find myself watching the second hand tick toward the twelve just as the bell rings.

I jump out of my chair before anyone else, and head for the door. My strange behavior has no doubt set the gossip mill going within the debate team. But for some reason I don’t give a shit about what they or anyone else thinks.

I race to Arleen’s first period class, and watch as she exits. I sneak behind pillars and duck behind doors, remaining hidden. Her brow is pinched more than usual, and she seems to have her guard up so that people avoid her.

Oh. My. God. I’m stalking her!

Yet even this revelation isn’t enough to make me stop. The only time I pause is when Miss Shields approaches from nowhere, standing in my direct field of vision.

I blink twice, regretfully taking my eye off Arleen as she turns the corner.

“Hi, Simon. I…” Miss Shields looks like she has something important to tell me, but I wave her off.

“Sorry, Miss Shields. I’ve got somewhere I need to be.” I don’t stick around long enough to watch her jaw drop to the floor, but as I pass, I hear her sharp intake of breath.

The short delay has made it impossible for me to catch up to Arleen. I really just want to see her face again before she makes it to her classroom.

I take a deep breath and smile widely when I realize I’m about to cut through the library just to intercept her.

It’s absurd, and it makes absolutely no sense at all, but I can’t contain my laughter as I jog through the library and get to her classroom door just as she’s rounding the corner.

For the life of me, I can’t remove the smile from my face.

Because I know—I
really know
—that I’m about to kiss her, and there’s nothing either of us can do to stop it. This thought makes my stomach flip more than anything else ever has.

Her hair is covering most of her face, and it looks like she’s grinding her teeth. She hasn’t seen me yet, so I back up casually against the wall, cross my arms over my chest, and keep my smile in place. If she looks up even briefly, she’ll see me and have to acknowledge me.

She
has
to feel this.

How can she not? My entire body is buzzing with whatever
this
is.

She quickens her pace, looking like she’s got something on her mind. When she glances up briefly toward the door, her eye catches mine, and she slows to a stop.

Students file into the classroom, but she continues to watch me. She takes no notice of the people passing her and her shoulders slouch. Her face looks sort of panicky even though I’m still smiling. I can’t stop. I must look a little freaky standing there with a gaping grin on my face.

But I feel it—this tension in the air between us. It’s mesmerizing.

She
must
feel it too.

Because even though I can’t put my finger on why, there has never been a girl I was more certain about kissing than Arleen Carson.

I close the distance between us and watch as the air empties from her chest and her body tenses.

I
need
her to feel this.

I loop the necklace that’s in my pocket around my finger just before I reach for her, and as the locket dangles from my thumb, I cup her cheek in my hand.

She swallows and closes her eyes. “Please, Simon.”

I hear her plea and inch my lips closer.

“Don’t,” she whispers.

My eyes open wide as I see her fear. Not the kind of fear of the unknown. Or the kind that she’s scared that people will see us.

Jesus. Is she scared of
me
?

I look around the hall, and the few people that are lingering aren’t paying any attention to us. But I still feel like I’ve got a knife in my chest.

It’s more than embarrassing. It’s desire at its worst met with denial at its best.

She really
doesn’t
feel this, does she?

My eyes close on their own accord as I slowly shake my head. I look back into her eyes one last time to see if I’ve misread her, to see if there’s some other reason hidden behind them as to why she isn’t kissing me.

But I see nothing.

“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll leave you alone.” I feel like I’m about to puke as the words come out.

Her eyes brim with tears, but I don’t stick around long enough to watch one fall.

I have my own wounds to nurse.

Chapter Fifteen

Now that I know Arleen will never be here before nine o’clock, I can use this place for what it has always been for me—well, what it had been to me before I found Arleen here a month ago.

I rake my hands through my hair and try to calm my heartbeat, but there’s so much building inside that I can’t bear to let it stay. The only thing I can think to do is scream.

Within thirty seconds I’ve screamed every combination of curse words imaginable. And damn, it feels good.

“You missed debate tonight.” The whisper comes from the corner, and I swing around to see Arleen standing near the broken wall.

My nostrils flare and I feel once again like the village idiot. Now, not only has she turned me down, but she is witness to my frustration about it.

“So?” I grab my backpack and begin my exit.
Fuck this. I’m done.

“The first thing you need to know is that Miss Shields paired us up for the debate tournament in Saint Louis in two weeks.” She speaks quickly, before I can leave.

I stop a few feet in front of her and flex my jaw. “Well, I’ll make sure I speak to Miss Shields about that. Don’t worry, you won’t have to see me.”

“Simon, wait. Please.”

I fling my backpack off my shoulder and toss it to the ground. “Why? What’s the point? You’ve made it clear how you feel, and I don’t intend on being someone who sticks around where he’s not wanted. Sticking around isn’t really my gig.” My voice is stern, my insinuation obvious. She had to know my reputation. I had always been a bang ‘em and leave ‘em sort of guy.

But with her I hadn’t wanted to be.

I was an idiot.

Her eyes squint shut. “The second thing you need to know—”

“Yes. I already know, Arleen. How about we avoid rehashing this? Believe me, I get it.”

“You know, for someone so smart, you’re pretty fucking stupid. So shut up and come here!”

I look at the space between us and realize that if I come any closer I’ll be in dangerous territory. “What do you want, Arleen?” I ask without moving.

She looks down to the ground and back up, a stream of tears running down her cheeks. I feel guilty for making her cry but I can’t move toward her. I just can’t. I’d already put too much on the line for her. I’m done ripping myself open for someone who doesn’t want me.

“I like you more than I should,” she begins. “The things I’ve heard, the things I know…” Her brow creases as she trails off. She’s struggling to find her words, and the space around us suddenly feels much smaller. I feel like she’s on the verge of some kind of realization—or perhaps it’s me who is.

“I’m sick of feeling like I have nobody!” she shouts, mimicking my frustration from minutes earlier. “I think about this constantly. You’re absolutely fucking perfect, and I have no idea if what you say is how you truly feel, or if it’s…” She trails off, not brave enough to finish the sentence. “Do you have any idea how it feels to be cast aside and unwanted? Of course you don’t! What could you possibly know about being unwanted? You spend half your life up girls’ skirts!” she spits out bitterly.

She obviously has only half the truth. I wish this wasn’t so confusing. This shouldn’t be so hard! We’re kids, for fuck’s sake. The hard stuff should be a good five to ten years down the road!

“What do you want from me, Arleen?” I ask, sounding tired and defeated.

She uncovers her face and stands with confidence. “I want you to kiss me, Simon.”

My head jerks up and I meet her eyes. Hers are intense and unwavering.

“What?” I ask, not sure I heard her correctly.

“Don’t make me say it again, Simon,” she says, her voice a plea.

I take a step toward her, and her arms wrap around herself. I don’t know what I feel. I can’t place it. I don’t know if I should kiss her, or if I’ll be sorry that I did. Will I regret it if I let this moment pass by, or will I wake up in the morning beating myself up for going there in the first place?

And I don’t know if I should take a minute to think this through, or if I should just do what I
want
to do.

Because every last part of me is telling me to go to her.

“Just please, whatever you do, don’t kiss me like you do all the others. I just need to feel like someone special. I couldn’t bear the thought of this being some kind of game—”

Before she finishes her sentence, my lips crash against hers.

In all the girls I’ve been with, I never knew what it felt like not to be the one holding all the cards. I was used to being the one to leave. I was never emotionally invested. I could get up and go without thinking twice.

But I know right now, at this very moment, that if she were to turn and walk away she could quite possibly ruin me.

I’m in deeper than I’ve ever been before. Yet the thought of turning around and leaving at this very moment eats me up from the inside.

Her lips are softer than I imagined, and her breath is even sweeter. It’s awkward at first because I’m so eager, but then I let myself take a breath and I slow my pace, soaking her in.

All of my frustration from minutes ago has vanished, and my insides feel solid again. And yet there’s still something strangely unnerving. Because the closer I allow myself to get to Arleen, the more the future I had planned with Miss Shields fades away.

She’s caressing my tongue with hers as she throws her arms behind my neck. I pull her closer until there is no longer any space between us.

“Simon, I’m so sorry.”

I don’t reply, but my lips confirm what I’m thinking:

There’s no need for an apology as long as you stay with me.

I let the swarm of butterflies dance in my stomach as we kiss. Butterflies I have never in all my eighteen years felt until this moment.