The Girl of Sand & Fog (8 page)

I crinkle my nose. “‘
Not like every other girl
?
Is that good or bad?”

He shakes his head. Kisses me lightly on the
lips. And then walks away.

*  *  *

I
bounce against the lockers and wait for Zoe to cram all her shit in there.

She tries to wedge a book into a space clearly
not big enough. “Everything OK with you and Bobby?”

I shrug. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

She rolls her eyes. “OK. Don’t tell me what
happened in the car this morning. But I guess you two made up. I cut out once
you started making out.”

I give her the stare. “We didn’t make out. He
kissed me. That’s all.”

She struggles to free her brown paper bag from
the locker. Duh, she should have taken it out before shoving the books in.

I change the subject. “What’s up with you and
Seth? And why didn’t you text me last night like I asked you to?”

She slams her locker closed, and then snaps the
lock. “Me and Seth? What are you talking about?”

I arch a brow. “Don’t play coy. You’re not the
least bit subtle when you flirt. You really should knock all that flirty shit
off. You don’t need it. You’re a really pretty girl. It sends the wrong
message. And believe me, you don’t want to send a guy like Seth the wrong
message.”

Her mouth drops. “Are you joking?” She crinkles
her nose. “I’m not interested in Seth. I don’t know how you got that idea.”

“All the loud laughing and hair twirling and
hanging on him.”

She makes a little shudder like her head is going
to explode. “As if. I wouldn’t even talk to him if he wasn’t Jake’s best
friend.”

My eyes widen. “Jake? Who’s Jake?”

We pause at the edge of the quad and she motions
with her head toward a table. “There. Sitting next to Bobby.”

Oh. I remember him. He was at the beach
yesterday. Cute. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Nice body. Yellow surfboard. Kind of
shy. I don’t recall him talking to anyone.

Zoe stares at him. She sighs. “I’ve been trying
to get him to ask me out for weeks. He doesn’t seem to get the hints I drop. So
I’m on to a new strategy. Chatting up his best friend—i.e. Seth—to see if that
gets him to make a move.” Her mouth scrunches up. “So far not working.”

I smile at her. “Well, I’m glad you’re not into
Seth, and he’ll come around.”

Zoe smiles in return. “It’s kind of sweet that
you’re trying to look out for me. I’ve never had a girlfriend have my back before.
It’s nice.”

I nod. “Well, you’ve got one now.”

“And I’ll always have your back, Kaley. If you
ever need me to.”

We cross the quad to Bobby’s table crowded with
guys and everything inside me rejoices when I see he’s left a spot next to him
for me. 

It doesn’t surprise me that he’s surrounded by a
mob when I used to think he was such a loner. He’s walked me to every class
today. Just showing up randomly, waiting in the halls for me after the bell. By
fourth period, the twenty Facebook friends makes sense, and so does his
unexpected popularity.

He’s cool to everyone, and everyone likes him. He’s
class valedictorian—that one was a fucking shocker—but a loner by choice, above
the standard high school bullshit politics, and people like him anyway.

I set my shake and fries on the table, then slip
down on the bench the way Bobby is sitting. He’s straddling it and his arm
comes around me, easing me back against his chest.

I fiddle with a ketchup packet, fight to look
casual about this public display of
whatever
—which is hard because
everyone at the table is watching us and only pretending not to—and I struggle
to find my way into the current conversation.

Zoe turns her head to face me.

She gives me the look, the girl-chat look, and
leans in to me in a way that tells me I need to ease toward her so she can
whisper.

I don’t want to.

I can tell Zoe isn’t going to be the least bit
stealthy about this.

 “I’ll always have your back, too, Kaley,” she
whispers into my ear. “If you ever need me to. Which I don’t think you will.
Because you’ve landed the most popular guy on campus in two days by being a
total bitch. God, you are my idol.”

CHAPTER 8

One
month later…

My phone
vibrates.

I carefully move it to my lap and open the text.
I angle my body in the seat to read it.

Bobby: Lunch?

Me: Yep.

Bobby: On campus or off?

Me: Off. Meet me at your car.

I feel a heavy stare on me and tuck my phone into
the fabric of my skirt.

“You’re supposed to be writing in your senior
journal, Miss Stanton. Put away the phone or I’ll take it.”

I look up to smile at Mr. Wyatt. I grab my pen
and nod.

After a moment, the teacher slouches in his chair
and buries his nose back in his book.

I lay my head on my desk, using my arm as a
pillow, and stare at the blank page in front of me. I haven’t written very much
in it since Bobby and I became a couple.

I scrunch up my lips, moving them side to side,
as I contemplate what I want to write. I’m trying to think a lot of stuff
through right now, but I just don’t know if I want to write about it…

It’s kind of nice having a boyfriend. Never
expected that one since before Bobby the hard and fast rule was ‘stay clear of
all guys.’ I was wrong about that one. You don’t have to stay clear of the
good
guys
, though it does kick up a lot of high school drama that I so wasn’t
expecting.

Bobby and I have been pretty much inseparable
since that morning in my car when he first kissed me. Why does everyone on
campus watch us so much? Crap, the kids watch everything here, and make so much
more of what they see than they should. It’s not like we’re such an interesting
couple to watch. We don’t walk around all goo-goo-eyed like the other couples
at school. He kisses me but we don’t suck face in the hallways like the gross
couples do. I would find us boring to watch.

It’s been pretty freaking wonderful being Bobby
Rowan’s girlfriend. I kind of feel like I fit in here now. He takes me
everywhere with him. I am not completely able to insulate myself from my
changing emotions or my slowly changing opinion on guys. Probably because Bobby
is a really good guy who I’ve grown to respect. He said he wasn’t into games
and drama and he isn’t. He calls when he says he’s going to, he texts me all
through the day, he is never critical or controlling with me in front of others
the way some of the jerks here are with their girlfriends—like that makes them
so alpha male…not!—and I can always depend on him. He is more intelligent, more
thought-provoking and just plain more nice than any of the other hot guys on
campus.

He always treats me with respect. I wouldn’t put
up with anything less, even if it is starting to wear on me because I’m really
getting tired of him maintaining the balance of that in-between thing—really
hot for each other but not fucking. Oh, we’ve done a lot of stuff physically,
but not
that
. For a month he hasn’t even tried to get across that
line with me.

What’s up with that? I find it frustrating and it
definitely is keeping me off-balance since he never actively urges me toward
going all the way.

So frustrating. It’s like being in another limbo
state in my life, because I’m pretty sure he’s the one I’m going to give it up
to. I guess if it’s going to happen, I’m just going to have to be the one who
bags him.

Yep, I’m ready. My first time is going to be with
Bobby and it better be soon. Like, really soon.

Not that we don’t have fun together without the
sex thing. He takes me to parties. We cruise the streets of Hollywood on his
bike. We go to dance clubs and rocker haunts. I watch him surf and work out. He
tags along while I film documentaries, and we talk for hours on the phone when
I’m home—I’m so glad he’s a talker, not a text fanatic—even if he’s spent the
entire day with me.

He is wicked smart, current and well-informed on
the national and world news fronts. He is certainly better traveled than I am.
He is one of the few people I’ve met with enough mental substance to keep me
intellectually stimulated. Yep, even his smarts are a turn-on. Jeez, he can
talk about anything, when most high school guys never have anything interesting
to say. He’s the most popular guy on campus and he isn’t the least bit
competitive about that.

I’m the one with the competitive personality.
After our first argument, in fear of losing on the substantive points, I
decided to win the argument the old-fashioned way: I devolved the conversation
into something nearing phone sex. From that point on, I just started shifting
our nightly conversations into a sexual vein since he seemed willing to go
along with it. I was the one who started the sexting first, and I am the one
who keeps pushing the line of what we do sexually in the pool house together.

It’s sweet that Bobby seems OK with respecting
the status of our relationship, never pushing for an upward change in the level
of seriousness physically but, heck, this girl is ready to do him.

It’s happening, this week, if I can figure out
how to get Chrissie to let me take off for five days for the couples’ Santa
Cruz trip Bobby has got planned over the Thanksgiving break. Mom isn’t at all
cool like Linda Rowan.

Christ, maybe I should just tell Mom that I’m
going to Zoe’s again. Less hassle, though it is a lie and I hate lying.
Chrissie might prove me wrong, be cool if I tell her the truth. She might not
even question the Santa Cruz thing.

She is definitely preoccupied lately. Injecting
Linda Rowan into her carefully constructed universe seems to have propelled my
mom out of her limbo stage. It’s nice that she’s being social again. She’s
going out a lot. I’m pretty certain she’s dating, which is kind of bizarre,
since with everything that’s happened this past year I expected her to get back
with Alan, especially since they are both single at the same time, but no,
haven’t seen him.

Whatever my mom is up to has diluted her focus to
a point where I am gone more nights than home with hardly any questioning. “Off
to Zoe’s” is all I have to say and that pretty much is all it takes.

Still, it bothers me that Chrissie doesn’t seem
to notice that I’ve changed. I’m less angry, less resentful about being forced
to move to Pacific Palisades, and I’m definitely less involved in my websites
and the home front.

I’ve always been close to Mom and it sucks that
she hasn’t noticed that something pretty fucking special is going on with me…

The
bell rings and I slap shut my journal. I shove my junk into my tote and spring
from my desk.

As I hurry down the hallway, I wave at the people
calling out to me, but I keep going toward the parking lot.

When I get to Bobby’s car, the top is already
down on his Aston Martin, classic Aerosmith is blasting from the speakers, and
he’s sitting on the trunk talking with Jake and Zoe.

I bite back a smile. It took weeks of truly
obvious girl-world antics to make it happen, but they are finally dating. Maybe
after Santa Cruz they’ll be a couple. I hope so. Zoe is a great girl and Jake,
for all that he doesn’t talk much, is a pretty awesome guy.

“Finally,” Zoe says in a heavily exasperated way
when she sees me.

“My thoughts exactly,” Bobby adds, pulling me up
against him.

“Pardon me for having to actually wait until
after the bell to meet up,” I tease, since Bobby and Zoe work as office
assistants fourth period and can pretty much cut out whenever they want to, and
somehow Jake ended up without a fourth period.

Bobby leans in slowly, very slowly, but stops
with my mouth so close to his that it feels like we’re touching but we’re not.
Not being kissed by him is glorious torture, unexpectedly hot, especially with
the change in his breathing and the look in his eyes.

“I’m not complaining,” Bobby says, a smile rising
to his eyes. “Some things are worth the wait.”

Yep, not being kissed by him may be even sexier
than being kissed by him—and he’s an incredible kisser. As for that
worth
the wait
comment, my eager body plugs immediately into the countless ways I
can interpret that.

I stare at him until I can’t take the suspense
any longer, then I lean in with my lips because I want him more than I’ve ever
wanted anything.

He eases back before contact. “You did clear it
with Chrissie to take off on Wednesday, didn’t you?”

I nod slowly. It’s only a little lie—I plan to
clear it with my mom when I get home today. No more stalling. And if I panic,
I’ll just do an
I’m off to Zoe’s
for the holidays.

As soon as I answer, he’s completely still. “You
haven’t, have you?” he accuses impatiently.

Damn, how does he know?

I crinkle my nose. “I’m going. I wouldn’t make
you go girlfriendless on a couples’ road trip.”

“You better not,” he warns.

A thrill runs through me. The way he says that makes
me wonder if he’s got something planned for me. Hallelujah. Maybe my nun status
is soon to be over.

“Not a chance,” I whisper, my voice low and
throaty. “I’ve got plans for you, Bobby Rowan.”

I weave both hands through his hair until I’m
holding the back of his head and kissing him deeply. I’ve lost count of how
many times we’ve kissed over the past month, but every time the feeling changes
into something more intense, like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

I grab on tightly as my mouth plunders his because
I’ve had enough of our in-between status, and by his quick response I’m pretty
sure he has, too. It isn’t long before we’re kissing a little more frantic and
needy than ever before, and I can feel the tension in his body matches my own.
I know, just know, this week is the week I give myself to him.

“Crap, can you two get a room or stop flirting
with each other or cut the rest of the day and finally do it?” Zoe exclaims,
frustrated and not the least bit tactful. “I’m hungry. We only have an hour.
Let’s bail.”

We break the kiss and we’re both breathless and
laughing.

I’d forgotten about Zoe and Jake.

Bobby turns me in his arms until I’m leaning back
against his chest, facing them, and it isn’t until I feel the hardness in his
shorts that I realize he’s using my body as a shield.

“Where does everyone want to go?” Bobby asks.

“I don’t care,” Zoe says. “Food. At this point,
anything.”

I look over my shoulder at Bobby. “Let’s go to
the Kettle.”

“That’s a thirty-minute drive. I’ll never get you
back in time for fifth period and you can’t afford another pink slip.
Eventually the dean will do something to you if you keep racking them up.”

“I don’t care. You’ve got the top down. It’s a
sunny day. Perfect for a drive up the coast.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Bobby’s car has only two
seats. That means we’ll have to take separate cars. You’re not the least bit
subtle, Kaley. Do you know that? If you want to cut out on us, then cut out.”

“Nope. I just want to take separate cars today.”
I give her a stare, heavy with meaning, since the separate cars thing is good
for her, too. “Meet us at the Kettle. OK?”

She stares and doesn’t move.

Fuck, she didn’t clue in my look to her at all.

Her expression says she wants to argue.

A fast glance at Jake tells me he knows exactly
what I’m maneuvering here and is all for it.

Christ, do I have to do everything for her?

“Separate cars,” I repeat heavily. It doesn’t
feel like Bobby’s erection is going away anytime soon.

Not without help.

My heart tempo ticks up.

My cheeks warm.

“You guys better not ditch us,” Zoe says
intensely.

“No ditching,” I state pointedly. “Go.”

I bite my lower lip and struggle to hold myself
still when all I really want is to brush my backside against Bobby’s crotch. 

I move my butt just a hair against him. I feel
his cock jerk, and I sink my teeth harder into my lip.

I love taunting him.

Being taunted by him.

By the feel of him, it won’t take much pushing to
get him to end the torture. And if he makes his move today, to hell with Santa
Cruz. I’m going to cave. A body can only take so much without relief. And it’s
been a month of burning, ragged anticipation.

I can’t even imagine what it’s going to be like
to have sex with him.

Despite my efforts not to smile as I wait for Zoe
to figure this one out, I do it anyway.

“Nope,” she smirks. “Not subtle at all.”