The Years After (14 page)

“Well, I assume you’re going to try pretty hard.”

“That shouldn’t be okay with you! I didn’t want to stop. I’m a lousy asshole. You have to realize that.”

Her hair flipped around her chest as she shook her head and a warm smile lit up her face. “I thought you were an eighteen-year-old guy, being and doing what most every eighteen-year-old guy wants. I mean, right? Not all that original, Derek, to try and press a girl as far as you can, now is it?”

He shot onto his feet and balled his hands into fists. “But you’re not a typical girl.”

She slowly slid her feet to the ground and stood up so she was looking at him squarely in the eye. She stared harder for emphasis. “Did you mean that as an insult or a compliment?”

“A compliment, obviously.”

She leaned forward and pressed her lips on his cheek. He stood there, completely confused and with no idea how to react. “Then, thank you for thinking that of me. For wanting me, and stopping as soon as I asked.”

He kept his arms at his sides so they didn’t end up right back where they started. She smelled good. Something emanated from her skin when she leaned into him. He had to restrain himself from scooping her up and holding her against him again. “Derek?”

“What?”

“Why do you keep trying so hard to get me to leave?”

“Because I don’t know what to do with you here. I should have taken you out to dinner tonight. You know, a real date. I just, didn’t think of that. I’ve never done anything like this. I suck at it.”

“But it doesn’t matter. I’ve never done it either. So we’ll figure it out. Together. If that’s what you want.”

“What I want?” he repeated, almost sounding stupid.

“Yes, do you want this to continue? Do you want me? Do you want a girlfriend?”

He felt almost dizzy when she said it out loud.
Girlfriend?
Yes. No. Never. Forever. He wanted all of that. But how could he have girlfriend who didn’t know what he did for work? Or what he was? Then again, he knew all along that he would be taking advantage of her no matter what. And hurting her ultimately.

“I want to see you. I don’t know what that means.”

“Do you want to see other girls?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to go back to my dorm, or stay here? With you?”

“You mean, like sleep here?”

She shrugged. “Well, I don’t have to go for any real reason, do I?”

“No.”

She turned and flopped onto his couch. “Can I borrow some sweatpants or something?”

Why? The skirt was so accessible. It showed off her killer-shaped legs. Now he knew how smooth her thighs felt. But of course, he jogged up to the loft and grabbed a clean pair of gray sweats. She took them and stood up, slipping her skirt down, and dropping his t-shirt down to her mid-thigh as she shimmied into the pants. She grinned and tossed the skirt aside. “I already found one plus about dating you: we can share clothes!” She spun around to model his baggy, slouchy sweats and white tee. Her hair spun all around her and made his heart swell with delight. She was so adorable as she held her hands out before flopping back onto the couch and drawing her legs up under her. Minutes ago, he was pawing her. He even got angry she stopped him; and now, she was curled up, looking so sweet. All he wanted to do was curl up next to her. He hoped to leave behind the emotionless, cold, sterile, evil world he not only lived in, but embodied somewhat.

“You know I wear guys clothes, right? You’re not supposed to be excited to wear them.”

“But they fit me so well.”

“They’re a size too big.”

She grinned and raised her eyebrows up and down, “Exactly how I love them.”

He finally sat back down, barely lulled into her crazy sense of fashion “Do you have any movies?” she suddenly inquired.

Did he have any movies? He’d never hung out with a girl and watched one before. He pointed at a stack that was haphazardly thrown in the corner. She got up and spent five minutes browsing through them while perched on her knees. She slipped one in the player before sitting beside him and curling up again. He slid his arm around her shoulders feeling self-conscious and strange when she lifted her head to rest it on his shoulder. He’d nearly taken full advantage of her; yet here she lay, right next to him. He didn’t get this thing at all.

She drifted off at some point; but he kept his hands strictly on his own legs and she kind of leaned on him. The credits ran out on the movie and he finally had to either move or sit there in silence. He surreptitiously slipped out from under her and she groaned as she tucked herself up on a cushion.

“Olivia?” he finally whispered, unsure of what to do with her now.

She stirred and her eyelids fluttered until he was staring at her foggy-sighted eyeballs. “Do you want me to take you home?”

She shook her head and stumbled to her feet. Taking his hand, she let him pull her up the stairs to his bedroom. It was a loft and only had a bed and a nightstand. His clothes were stuffed in a couple of duffel bags off to the side. Her eyebrows shot up. “Sleeping bags?”

He shrugged and began fluffing the two sleeping bags out. They were zipped together to make one large one. She turned and ran back downstairs into the bathroom while he tried to straighten out the bed he never made. He hadn’t even bothered to put a sheet on the stained, brown mattress. He wasn’t sure where it even came from. She came back up and fell onto the sleeping bags before sliding her legs inside. What should he do? Get next to her? He wasn’t sure of the proper protocol.

He eventually lay back, still fully clothed. That seemed the easiest way to ensure all his parts stayed out of trouble. The only lights came from the streetlights outside, which made shadows on the ceiling. She was right there, beside him and snuggling up to him when she yawned and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Goodnight, Derek.”

He turned his head and stared at her. Her black lashes rested on her cheeks. His heart kept doing a weird blipping thing whenever he looked at her.

He didn’t drift off for a long time because he was trying to figure out why he was sleeping next to a girl and they both still had their clothes on. Or why the best hours of his life seemed to be anytime he was with her, although he actually had nothing in common with her.

“Goodnight, Olivia,” he finally whispered. He wasn’t sure she even heard him.

****

When he opened his eyes, the sunlight hurt them. The major drawback to his place was the windows were too high up to put shades on and block out the day. It was bright and cheerful, fully bathed in natural light. He rolled over and found the warm, girl body next to his. He wrapped his arms around her and she shifted toward him. Her butt was right up against his morning wood. She stiffened at the contact and he had to press his lips together to hold in the sigh. Oh yeah, his hard-on wasn’t welcome. Not there anyway.

But she was with him still. Her body held tightly in his arms. What did she expect? He leaned over and started to nuzzle her neck and ear. He ran his tongue over her earlobe and she sighed and relaxed flat on her back. She turned towards him to wrap her hands around his neck and let their mouths find each other. It was so natural to slide his hands down her torso and push up her shirt and roll over her, and…

She suddenly stopped and pushed him off her. Sitting up in bed, she swung her legs out of the sleeping bag and over the side of the bed. Then she stared down at her feet.

“We need to slow down. Everything. What we’re saying. What we’re doing. Everything. I mean this is just supposed to be fun. College. Partying and stuff. Not…”

“This?”

“Yes. This is intense. And scary, and I’m not ready for it.”

He sat up too. “I’m not either.”

“Then why are we both still doing it?”

“I don’t know.”

She glanced back and her gaze softened as she scooted towards him and leaned against his side. “You figured out I’m a virgin.”

Her voice filled his head. He turned and she was looking up at him. “Yes.”

She ducked her head down. “Is it a problem? I mean, is it something you won’t be able to deal with?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never been with one. You really never have?”

“We’re only eighteen. I don’t think it’s that big of deal. You make it sound like I’m middle-aged.”

“You’re just so pretty. You would have had every chance if you wanted to.”

“I am not particularly sought after. But thank you. And I just never found anyone I was remotely interested in.”

“Are you… remotely interested with me, then?”

“I might be. But not now. Or tomorrow. I don’t know when. It’s not a religious thing. Or waiting for marriage, or anything like that, I just want to do it when it feels right to me.”

He sighed. “It always feels right.”

She laughed at his melodramatic, sad tone. “Look, it’s not something I want to talk about and rehash every time we kiss. I don’t want to feel guilty if and when I want you to stop. Or make you think I’m leading you on, or anything. I’m not. I’m just not ready yet.”

“I know you’re not leading me on.”

“But you’re probably waiting for me to give in.”

“I could possibly be.”

“I just don’t want to yet. Or feel more than what we have together now. I want to date. Have fun. Be together.”

Date? Have fun? Be together?
Nothing he knew about. How could he? No one had ever wanted anything more with him. “So not serious?” Wasn’t that the dream? And what any guy wanted? Except the virgin, and the wanting to wait part, of course.

Her head shook against his arm. “I fear it’s already very serious.”

“I know,” he answered just as glumly as her tone implied she was. He kissed the top of her head and then pulled back. Why did he keep doing that? Kissing her? Touching her? Holding her hand? He didn’t even realize he was doing it. This was nothing he expected when he began lying just to sit next to her in her English class.

“So, can you deal with waiting? Or will sex be the entire focus every time we’re together? I don’t want to talk about it all the time, or be asked when, as if it’s a race or an ultimatum I have to fulfill.

“I don’t want to stop seeing you. But you get, when we kiss or mess around, it turns me on. You can’t get mad at me for that either. I’ll stop. I did this time, didn’t I? I promise you, I will.”

“Without the guilt trip?”

“If you don’t give me a guilt trip for having a hard-on around you.”

Her face rubbed on his arm as she shook her head and laughed a self-conscious giggle. “I’m not comfortable with
any
of it. Even talking about it."

“So I should watch what I say?”

“No, just realize I’m really new at this.”

“Was I really your first kiss?”

She lifted her face to his and her eyes grew wide. “How did you know that?”

“Kylie warned me off you, and it came up.”

Her face turned an adorable shade of pink. He touched his thumb on her cheek and smiled. “It wasn’t my best work. Should I try giving you a better first kiss?”

She laughed and let his mouth descend on hers.

****

She stayed at Derek’s the entire weekend. Lounging on his couch, she complained at his remission in offering her anything to eat. They watched movies and talked and kissed on and off for hours. They remained otherwise occupied, both trying valiantly to keep the topic of sex ignored, but they didn’t stop kissing or making out. A few times, she let him touch her boobs or slide his hand down towards her panties, but it usually stopped there. She often blushed and stammered afterwards.

He had other stuff to do. One of Quentrell’s lackeys kept calling and leaving voicemails. He ignored them all until Sunday when he was sure trouble would be coming his way. He’d never been out of contact for that long. They slept again in his bed, all clothed and kind of PG-rated, except for the few times he could get her to lie tightly up against him.

“I have so much homework. I need to practice. I have a concert next weekend. I
really
have to go.” She finally had to part her beautiful mouth from his to tell him. Their foreheads rested together as they stared into each other’s eyes. He wanted to tell her to skip it and stay there. Just stay there and let him keep kissing her. But she was right; all this was way too intense. They were spending way too much time together already. Yet, they kept on, even after voicing all their doubts. She told him her thoughts about a half dozen times in the last three hours, and it was now seven o’clock. She finally pushed back from him and stood up. “Besides, I need some clean underwear.”

She’d been wearing Derek’s clothes all weekend, except for those. He grinned as he almost answered, but she held her hand up and muttered, “Don’t answer about my underwear. Now get your keys, before I forget how badly I need to go.”

He grabbed his keys and she went ahead of him when they finally emerged from their hideaway. They hadn’t been outside in almost forty-eight hours. He’d never spent so much time with one person. Not like that. Or loved every moment of it, and did not want her to leave.

She grew quiet as they twisted around the long way back to her school. She finally turned towards him. “What time did you get up to come to my class?”

“I don’t know. Seven or so.”

He didn’t glance her way to see her look of reprimand. Finally, she shook her head. “Was it worth it?”

He clicked his blinker down and seemed to exaggerate how carefully he could check his blind spot. Changing lanes to get around slow traffic, he meandered through traffic signals and strip mall hell. “Uh-huh.”

She turned in her seat. “Why? Why did you do it?”

“Because, I wanted to see you again.”

“Well, why didn’t you just ask me out? You’re not shy.”

“You are,” he said with a shrug. He gave her a small smile. “I really wasn’t intending for anything to come of it. And strangely, sometimes, I feel unsure around you.”

She fell silent. He wasn’t sure what she thought of everything. Or anything. “So I won’t see you tomorrow.”

“Well, I guess it’s stupid if I show up in class now, huh?”

“Yes, quite stupid to show up to a class, or at an entire school where you’re not even enrolled.”