Chapter 15
I'm in the kitchen writing out an essay (by hand! still no laptop privileges a week later, not even for homework) when there's a knock at the front door.
"Get lost!" I tell him trying to slam the door in his face.
"Kat stop it. Why won't you talk to me? This is getting ridiculous," he said pushing his way in.
"DUH? You slept with the biggest bitch in the school and didn't bother to mention it!"
"How can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time?" he said.
I take a step back in shock, "did you just call me stupid?"
"Yes, because that's exactly what you're being right now. C'mon Kat, you can't seriously think that I did anything with that girl do you?"
"You didn't deny it, and you still haven't!" I yell at him stalking back to the kitchen. I will not cry. I refuse to cry in front of him. I'm trying to hold onto my anger, channel it.
He knew just the right songs to pick out before inviting me to his bed.
That stupid cow's voice is bouncing around inside my head.
"I shouldn't have to!" he yells back, hot on my heels.
Before I can make it back to the counter, he's behind me grabbing my shoulders turning me to face him, "Kat you know me. You have to know I would never do that to anyone, especially you," his voice is dangerously low.
I try to pull away but he just grabs me into a hug holding me even tighter. I can feel hot tears start to slide down my face. I want to believe him. I'm desperate to, but I need to hear the words. Why would he not be screaming his innocence from the second I accused him? If it was me I would.
"Did you sleep with her?" I sob against his chest.
He whispers, "Kat, how can you ask me that, after all we've been through this year?"
I push hard against his chest and tear up the stairs to my room slamming my bedroom door clicking the lock.
Why won’t he just answer the question?
Mom knocks on my door a couple hours later with a plate of food. I unlock the door and head back to my bed and feel her sit down next to me a moment later.
"Katie, honey, is everything ok?" No doctor voice this time, just worried Mom. Somehow, that feels worse.
"It's all just…so screwed up, and I don't know what to do anymore," I tell her trying to sniff back a fresh batch of tears.
"Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry for what you're going through, and….for earlier. I didn't mean to treat you like a patient. You're my daughter and we were just so stunned to get that call from school. I never would have imagined in a million years that you'd get into a fight."
The silence is deafening between us with her sitting their stroking my hair.
"Laurel's mom called. She told her Mom that you were protecting her? Something about a girl who was calling her names? Is that true?" she asks.
I can only nod my head. How much did Laurel tell? I'm pretty sure she wouldn't tell her Mom the part about Josh.
Mom sighs, "I'm proud of you for standing up for your friend. I know that's not always an easy thing to do, but…you know you can't go around picking fights with people right? Violence is never the answer honey.” I hear that doctor voice creeping in again, and maybe so does she because she stops caressing my hair and pats my arm.
"Daddy and I have decided you can have your things back. We know you're a good girl and trust you to exercise better judgment in the future ok?"
I nod again, but when she starts to get up off my bed I sit up twisting around to throw my arms around her neck and start crying fresh tears.
"Oh baby," she murmurs as I my waterworks start all over again, "it'll get better, I promise.” She gives me a hug and puts me back to bed.
Sometime later, I hear my door open and feel someone kiss me on the forehead. I open my eyes a sliver to see my Dad pick up my untouched dinner plate and quietly close the door.
The next couple of weeks are the most miserable of my life.
Josh doesn't sit with us anymore at lunch, or with Jaxon and me in math class. He moved his seat in Algebra to the front row. We don't make eye contact in class, but, against my will, I find myself staring at the back of his head sometimes remembering what it feels like to run my fingers through his hair. I watching him lean over to the girl next to him, laughing at something she said, and anger and pain and jealousy coil around and around in my stomach. Our break up does not seem to be bothering him one little bit.
Fine.
To hell with him.
The play is only a week away now and everyone is so busy it's easy to avoid each other at rehearsals after school, but the one thing I can't get away from is my constant anger and resentment. Not even when I catch sight of Tiffani walking up to him gesturing to the back of her costume for help, and he just walks away from her giving her a hateful look saying something that makes her face instantly turn fire engine red.
Jaxon is staying late in English making up a quiz he missed last week when he went home sick, so he’s not here for dress rehearsal. My head snaps up when I hear Mrs. G tell Josh to get up on stage to stand in for Jaxon so I can rehearse.
We have not traded so much as a single word to each other in weeks, much less even looked at each other. In this scene, the dancing girls are sitting on the guys’ laps. I can practically hear Laurel’s voice in my head…ahhh, sweet revenge is only moments within reach. This is going to be good.
“But, Mrs. G., I’m not an actor. I’m on the set building crew,” he said.
“You don’t need to act Mr. Dawson, I just need a body so we can finish the front row choreography with the first set of dancers for our final dress rehearsal. Now go sit down in the chair Miss O’Connell is standing next to at rear stage,” she barks, “Miss O’Connell, Miss Foster, and Mr. Chapman, I want you to stay in character no matter what for the next 15 minutes as we stop and start the music to get this sequence right.”
Josh looks up at me for the first time in weeks, and I pat the seat of the chair with my hand doing my best impression of his trademark smirk and cocking eyebrow. As he climbs the few steps from the pit to the stage, he looks so scared and wary like he’s walking to the gallows. Everyone else around us in the auditorium is going about their business, but not one of them has any clue the battle of wills that is about to be waged.
Or, how vindictive I’m about to be…
He walks past me to sit down slowly on the chair clearing his throat.
Watching a few of our rehearsals for this scene already, he knows what’s coming. At least he thinks he does. Jaxon and I usually goof off tickling each other and end up laughing hysterically until Mrs. G. yells at us to, ‘get serious there is no giggling in theater’.
I have other plans in mind for Josh.
Under his breath he said the first words he has since that afternoon at my house when he wouldn't answer my question directly, “play nice Kat.”
Though the next nearest couple is at a table about 20 feet up stage and the other is off stage right about another 40 feet, there’s really no one close enough to hear his warnings.
A quiet, evil little laugh starts to build in the back of my throat and I see him grab onto the seat of the chair to sit up straighter.
The bar room piano music starts and the front row teams begin dancing. I proceed to take the slowest, most seductive circular walk around his chair that I can letting my hand drag a long, slow stroke up his arm, dipping down over his chest and back up across his shoulders.
Josh exhales a long slow breath through his lips. It's been almost a month since we've had any physical contact.
My fingertips play with the curls at the base of his neck before they softly graze the bottom of his ear, down his neck coming to rest on his shoulder.
Josh closes his eyes and starts to moan soft and low, but turns the sound into clearing his throat again trying to cover it.
I have you now.
I feel like a cat playing with a mouse. It should probably bother me how much I’m enjoying torturing him. However, after a
ll the crap that he’s pulled lately, it doesn’t. Not even one little bit.
He grits his teeth and his lips barely move when he warns me softly under his breath, “careful Kat, you’re not the only one who can play this game.”
I muster the most innocent look I can as I come around to stand between his legs with both my hands on his shoulders and tell him, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Josh. I’m just rehearsing for my part.”
He opens his eyes narrowing them to look at me and said, “I’ll just bet you are.”
Seeing how dark green his eyes are becoming, flashing with desire makes me hesitate and rethink my plan for a second.
When I finally lower myself to sit down on his lap I swing both my legs to one side and adjust the old-fashioned bustier that’s smashing my boobs together so bad they’re both about to pop out the top. The movement makes Josh look down just as I planned; sucking in his breath and slowly blowing it back out again through his lips before looking away told me my plan is working perfectly, but guilt starts creeping into my feeling of victory.
Suddenly, I’m enveloped in the scent of cinnamon and it firms my resolve.
Deciding I have come too far to back down now, I wiggle my butt ever so slightly on his lap trying to get comfortable while my fingers gently play with the back of his hair.
Yep. I’m starting to feel the results of my efforts distinctly against the back of my legs.
He’s about to break out in a cold sweat from concentrating so hard to sit still and not moan as I fluff out all the layers of crinoline on my skirt making my costume all poufy so that it completely covers my lap and his.
He starts bouncing his right leg up and down and it jostles me a little on his lap.
Getting a little nervous, Josh?
The stage direction in my script said Floozy #5 (me) pulls in close to Bar Patron #5 (Jaxon/Josh) neck pretending to kiss, block audience view with long wig. My hair is down and loose so the blocking is no trouble but I have my own plans for the pretending part.
My right arm is still draped around his shoulders but I turn my body a little bit to lean against his chest and gently nuzzle his neck with my lips working my way up his neck to nibble and suck on the bottom of his ear. I can feel the pulse in his neck beat faster under my lips and my own breath starts to come faster in time with it. I suck harder on a single tender spot near his collarbone. That’s definitely going to leave a mark.
It’s also the last thing Josh’s self-control can take.
His left hand grabs around my waist pulling my hip into his hip hard, while his right hand darts under my costume to grab onto my bare left leg just above my knee.
I wasn’t expecting his lightning fast reflexes and I’m so shocked to feel his hand on my bare thigh I give a little muffled squeak against his neck nearly jumping off his lap but he just grips me tighter with both hands to keep me still.
His strained voice draws out in a hiss that sounds almost like a half exhale/half plea, “Kaaat.”
We’re both breathing hard and fast now, I open my eyes to see the rest of the world is going on per usual with actors and stage hands all milling around as if the world didn’t just spin out of control. I shut my eyes tight again.
“Kat. Stop. This. Now.”
At this point, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m drunk on the power of making his body react to my touch and his palm must be leaving a burn mark on my leg it feels so hot. Need quickly replaces vengeance.
“MISS O’CONNELL! NAP ON YOUR OWN TIME! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE A BAR ROOM FLOOZY. START DANCING! DO SOMETHING! MISS FOSTER! IF I CAN’T SEE YOU THE AUDIENCE CAN’T SEE YOU!” Mrs. G. barks out at us over the music.
Josh’s arms drop and I jump up to my feet at the teacher’s command going on autopilot from two months of rehearsals. I throw my arms up in the air, shaking my bustle in time to the music (right in front of Josh’s face) then one high kick forward, spin on my heels and another high kick up and over his head to come sitting back down on his lap straddling him grabbing onto his shoulders to keep from falling.
This is usually where Jaxon grabs my waist and starts tickling me trying to get me in trouble.
But Jaxon isn’t here and neither Josh nor I are laughing. His deep green eyes are darkened with so much raw desire, they look almost black, and my breath is trapped in my lungs.
“Kat don’t. I’m not kidding. Stop,” he growls.
I dig my fingers into his shoulders throwing my head back shaking my hair back and forth like Floozy #4 is doing on the other side of the stage. Unfortunately, the motion pushes me against his obvious arousal too.
Is it any wonder Floozy #4 and Bar Patron #4 have been dating since rehearsals started in February? Although I have never once even remotely had this problem with Jaxon in all our times practicing this scene the past two months.
A low groan escapes from the back of Josh’s throat as I bring my head up to look him in the eye and silently mouth a single word.
No.
His half-closed eyes go wild and both of his eyebrows shoot up.
My face is hovering about an inch above his looking down at him blocking his view of everything except my face. I mentally challenge him to do something. Say something.
He takes my dare grabbing onto my bare knees again under my costume and he starts working his hands up and up kneading my legs with his fingers inch-by excruciating-inch.
A gasp escapes my mouth as I start chewing on my bottom lip and Josh’s mouth falls open.
My game of revenge has now turned to a fierce competition for power (and passion) to see which one of us will chicken out and stop the other one first.
If you take a liberal dose of anger, desire, and a competitive nature, mix it with a stubborn streak a mile wide you’d have the two most destructively volatile stares in history going on right now. I swear if anything passed between our stare it would instantaneously combust and burst into flames.
I whimper when his thumbs reach the edge of my bikini underwear and start to explore under the edge of the seam.
“Oh God, Kat,” he gets out through gritted teeth.
I hear the desperation in his voice and freak. Caving first, I push too hard to get away from his body in a blind panic falling backwards off his lap until my ass lands on the hard stage.
That’s going to leave a mark too.
My legs are bent at the knees and I’m resting on my palms, and my now bruised backside, gasping for air watching Josh’s lungs attempt to do the same as his chest rises and falls in time with mine.
“EXCELLENT COMEDIC IMPROVISATION MISS O’CONNELL. PLAN ON PRACTICING THAT WITH JAXON AND WE’LL KEEP THAT FOR THE FINAL PERFORMANCE.”
Sure. Whatever you say Mrs. G. because my mind has just short-circuited.
Minutes later when I pick myself up off the stage, I’m shaky but able to stand.
I immediately realize I didn’t completely lose our battle of wills when I watch Josh try to stand up and promptly sit right back down.
I let out a small victory laugh as he turns his head slightly stage left to mouth the words son of a bitch while shaking his head.
At least I can walk away. Josh is going to need a couple of minutes to recover.
Ah, it truly is good to be a girl sometimes.
“ALL RIGHT EVERYONE. THAT’S A WRAP. GO HOME, TAKE TOMORROW NIGHT OFF AND I’LL SEE EVERYONE BACK HERE AT 5PM ON THE DOT FRIDAY FOR OPENING NIGHT’S CURTAIN CALL AT 7PM. MAKE SURE ALL YOUR COSTUMES AND PROPS ARE LABELED BEFORE YOU PUT THEM BACK.” Mrs. G. told us before heading back to her office.
I practically run to the girls changing room to get out of my costume and need to dunk my entire head under the faucet to cool off. I have regained some semblance of sanity after about 50 Zen deep breaths and a handful of wet paper towels on the back of my neck.
When I come out of the dressing room, Jaxon waves to me from the other end of the hallway.
We’re standing there joking and laughing about the
new choreography he saw at the end of our scene and whether or not I’ll be able to sit down without wincing for a while, when he pokes me in the ribs with his finger playfully and said, “I also caught the little performance you and Josh were giving just before that. Why have you never rehearsed like that with me?
I swallow hard. I can’t believe I got so carried away with my revenge that I didn’t think someone might be watching.
I try to be flip about it, “too bad the performance is past. Now you’ll have to die wondering about the blissful experience that kissing me truly is.”
“Maybe not. How about a private show right now?” he said leaning in, “No one’s around. I could show you Eli’s secret to an award winning pucker.”
If there were ever a look to go with the word mischievous, Jaxon’s face right now would be next to it in the dictionary.
“Jaxon you are an incurable heartbreaker. I’m not falling for your charms.”
“Aren’t even curious how I compare to all your other guys?”
Guys? Plural?
“What do you mean ‘other guys’?” I ask.
All playfulness is gone and I’m in full on serious mode. It’s not exactly flattering to hear a friend insinuate he thinks you’re playing fast and loose with more than one guy in school at the same time. Is that what people think I’m doing?
“The Brit last fall? The football guy? Eli? Josh? I have seen you hanging out with all of them at different times this year getting very friendly. You’re becoming an excellent student of Laurel’s training,” he laughs.
Is that what I’m doing?
I have never had a problem with Laurel kissing multiple guys. I know who she really is and that she’s nice, but hearing someone talk about me like that now and remembering what Tiffani said in the bathroom is turning my stomach.
“Knock it off Jaxon,” I push him away. Hard.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Katie I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. You know I say stupid shit all the time. I’m just joking around with you. I know you and Laurel aren’t really like that. We just kid each other that’s all. It was stupid. I’m sorry.”
I’m trying so hard not to cry. If he doesn’t shut up I swear I’m going to crack him in the family jewels, but then I sniffle and start to lose it.
“Oh shit. Don’t cry. I’m sorry Katie. Could I be a bigger asshole?”
I start speed walking for the front doors around the corner, “I have to go.”
Barely 10 seconds pass when I hear angry shouts behind me.
“What the hell did you do?”
“What’s your problem?”
“You! You’re my problem.”
“Get the hell off me.”
“Stay away from her!”
“Fuck you! You don’t tell me what to do. Who do you think you are? I’ve known her forever.”
“Not as long as I have!”
I run back to find Jaxon and Josh pushing and shoving each other off the walls, one of them trying to grab the other in a headlock.
“KNOCK IT OFF! BOTH OF YOU! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” I scream at them.
They break apart fast both of them looking at me like a couple of wild animals.
“He started it!” Jaxon said pointing at Josh.
“I’ll finish it too!” Josh snaps back at him.
“You’re both being idiots. Are you TRYING to get suspended?”
“TELL HIM! Tell him you’ve known me longer Kat and that makes you more mine than his. Tell him.” Josh demands.
“What are you talking about?” I have no idea what’s going on right now and his words shock me to the core. We've been acting like we hate each other all month and now to hear him say I'm his is just…. Is this some new kind of new guy-puberty thing? Are they both losing their minds? Am I?
“I have known you for eight years, which means you’ve been my friend longer. Tell him,” he said again.
Jaxon nearly spits on him. I have never seen him so mad. “You’ve been around for barely six months and caused her nothing but grief! I have been her friend for the last five years. No way she’s more your friend than mine!”
“I have no idea what’s going on, but you both sound like complete idiots. I’m friends with BOTH of you, at least for the moment. It doesn’t matter for how long.”
Josh stares at me with hurt and anger in his eyes, before he turns on his heel to storm off toward the stage door.
“What the hell was that?” I ask Jaxon.
“I have no idea. Why don’t you ask him?” he said grabbing his backpack pushing past me.
Excellent idea I think as I head after him.
When I come around the stage curtain to head backstage, Mrs. G. nearly smacks me in the head with that humongous tote bag she’s been carrying around since forever. I dodge left at the last second as she swings around to yell backstage. “Turn the lights out when you leave Mr. Dawson. Oh, Miss O’Connell. You startled me. I did not see you standing there. Be sure Mr. Dawson turns off all the lights and locks the back doors won’t you? The main electrical switch is there just on the wall behind you.” She doesn’t wait for a response before simply walking away. Teachers are such weird creatures sometimes.
Crossing the stage, I can already tell he’s still mad. The play props aren’t banging themselves around in the closet.
Good. Well, I’m mad too. He can’t go around picking fights with guys who’re just talking to me. Who does he think he is? He threatens my friends, yells at me, and then storms off without another word? I don’t think so, mister.
I find him in the back of the prop room stacking up the soup cans from Act II.
He practically barks at me from the behind the storage shelves when he sees me in the doorway.
“What are you doing here?”
“About to have a big fight, in private, with you. In case you’re still as clueless as you seem to have been lately.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just get out of here already I have work to do.”
I make a show of deliberately dumping my backpack and my purse off to the side next to a huge pile of costume fabrics in the corner and put my hands on my hips to show him I’m not going anywhere. No running this time.
“You can’t just go around grabbing people and threatening to punch them for no reason Josh.”
“I didn’t! Is that who you think I am? I’m not a bully. I had a damn good reason. What was your excuse?”
“So you say. Jaxon didn’t do anything wrong. He’s allowed to talk to me. What is with you lately anyway?”
I’m shaking my head because I seriously have no clue what is going on with him. One minute he’s sweet and funny at my house, kissing me at home, kissing me in the hallways at school, and the next minute he won't answer one simple question and he's going ballistic on my friends.
Is there such a thing as PMS for guys?
“Didn’t do anything wrong? Didn’t do…God, and you call ME clueless.”
Bang goes another can. Bang. Bang. He has to run out of cans eventually right? I hope before my migraine kicks in.
“Josh will you stop for one damn minute and talk to me. I don’t understand everything that's happened between us, but you said you were trying to be better. A clean slate, remember?”
My voice slips a little at the end. If he makes me cry I’m going to grab that foam bat in the corner and do my best to pretend he’s a piñata.
“I am. It’s not you. It is, but it’s not.” He sounds so frustrated when he talks gritting his teeth like that standing there gripping the edge of the shelf. He’s a little scary. Not that I think he would ever hurt me. Not for a second, but…this Josh and the one I just saw fighting in the hallway…is a whole new animal to me, one on the verge of losing his grip on his temper. I’m the one who’s supposed to be a hothead, not him.
He’s doing that tiger-pacing thing again dragging his hands through his hair but there’s not a lot of space in thi
s tiny storage room. I step over the mountain of fabric to lean against an empty spot along the wall. I cross my arms in front of me and bite my bottom lip while I try to think. Maybe if I give him some more space to move and burn off his mad we can talk. Is his brain racing a mile a minute arguing with itself like mine does?
The anger in his voice shocks me back from my wondering as he stalks straight toward me, “I didn't sleep with that bitch Tiffani Ok? I have never slept with anyone! You're the only girl I have ever even kissed for Christ's sake! You just…you have no idea Kat. You’re one of the smartest people I know. How can you be so stubborn and stupid sometimes and not have any idea what you do?”
He didn't sleep with Tiffani. He finally said it. I have known for a while, probably from the start if I can bring myself to admit it, but I still needed to hear him say it. I'm the only one he's ever kissed? My emotions are spiraling out of control “What are you babbling about now? What do I do?” I throw back at him.
“Just YOU. BEING YOU….ALL THE TIME. You’re doing it right now, standing there chewing on your lip. It’s very frustrating,” he said gesturing at all of me, from the top of my head to my toes in big sweeping circles in front of my face.
He’s a raving lunatic!
I smack his hands away, and he balls them up into fists at his sides, growls and stomps back over to the shelves. Scared, confused, or mad, doesn’t matter anymore. Now he’s just pissing me off. You don’t walk away from me twice mister. Not after that little declaration AND calling me stupid again. We are so not done yet.
“Stop pointing at me and mumbling, you idiot. Are you high? What is wrong with you? You’re not making any sense.”
Without any warning there’s a loud bang like a door slam or something and the room is plunged into complete darkness. I can’t see my hand in front of my face.
Great. Probably a building custodian thought we forgot and left the lights on and he turned them out. We’re alone in the dark. Again.
I try to find my way back to the door and send one of his recently stacked towers crashing to the floor to my right. When the metal clattering stops, I’m sure there’s cans all over the place but I can’t even see my feet. If I try to take a step I’m probably going to trip and break my neck. Not that he’ll care.
“Don’t you have the flashlight app on your phone?” he asks me. Apparently, I’m not the only master of snark in this pitch-black room.
“Yes, I have the flashlight app on my phone.”
Ok, throwing the mocking whiny high-pitched baby voice back at him may have been juvenile, but I was steamed and my temper was getting hotter by the minute. “But my phone is buried at the bottom of my backpack which is somewhere over there by the door. I can’t see my hand in front of my face much less how to get over to it.”
Complete silence fills the room for a minute then I hear him sigh in the dark. “Stay put. I’ll come to you with mine so you can find your footing before you knock something else down.”
A second later, I see his face bathed in blue light about five feet away from where I’m at against the wall before he points his phone down and his face is swallowed by the dark again.
“You know sometimes I wonder if you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” he said shining the light on the floor so he can see where to safely step to get to me. His feet are kicking cans out of the way left and right.
“Nice. That’s really nice Josh. Way to be a total ass.”
“Well, it’s true,” he snaps back at me. He stops only a step away with the blue light surrounding our legs lighting up the floor and our feet. “I swear I don’t know what to do with you sometimes.”
He lets out another big sigh before he holds out his free hand to steady me. I take it, but grudgingly.
“What am I going to do with you Kat?”
He sounds genuinely perplexed, but the soft blue light is shining on my shoes now and I can’t see his face. It’s still lost in the dark. Without warning, my mind flashes back to Halloween, and another dark room.
“What do you want to do with me?”
What the hell Katie? Brain doesn’t get a chance to answer because Josh pulls me away from the wall and into his arms dropping his phone in the process. It must have landed light side down because its pitch black everywhere and I can only feel my heart start pounding as his arms lock around me, his hot breath against my ear.
“I want to do a thousand different things to you, with you, and they all start with acting like a caveman and dragging you off, locking you far away where no other guys can ever talk to you or touch you ever again.”
The ferocious, possessive tone in his voice shocks me to my core and thrills me in a way I never dreamed it could. Without thinking, I reach up grabbing his face with both hands to pull his lips down to mine more roughly than I ever believed I would.
I’m wound up tighter than a coil from our fight and everything that's happened, but all I can think of is how desperate I am to taste him again. To touch him again. It's been so long. That thirst for more is overwhelming.
I must have surprised the hell out of him because he doesn’t immediately react while I’m viciously attacking his mouth with my lips. A half second later, he’s pushing me back against the wall, tangling his fingers in my hair, tilting our heads to deepen the kiss. I can’t tell which one of us is moaning now. I can barely stand it. My mind and body are both exploding into a billion fireworks all at the same time.
I feel bold and reckless just like on Halloween, but now I’m also determined as I slowly slide down the wall dragging him down on top of me into the pile of fabrics on the floor next to us.
If I thought I was exploding before, the feeling of having Josh’s full weight pressing me back into the pile with the whole length of his body is driving me out of my mind. Chest to chest, hip to hip, I throw one of my legs over the back of his pulling our bodies together even tighter.
“Kat what are we doing?” he mumbles against my lips.
“Shut up Josh. We’re making up,” I murmur back breathless letting my hands tug his t-shirt out of his pants so I can explore his back and dip under the waist band at the back of his pants.
He responds with a strangled groan deep in his throat and attacks my neck leaving a trail of fire as he nips, kisses, and sucks his way down my throat to the few buttons holding the front of my shirt together. He starts to hesitate but I don’t give him time to think lifting his head to find his lips over and over as I grab his butt pulling him hard against me until he’s moaning and as dizzy and reckless as I am. He fumbles with the buttons in the dark but still manages to undo them in record time and I hear him suck in his breath as both sides of my shirt fall away.
Hellloooo bra-less Wednesday.
Another split second later his mouth and hands are places I have never thought of any other guy being anywhere near. I instinctively arch my back to meet him raking my fingers down his stomach stopping only to undo the snap at his jeans. I need more of him.
“Josh…Josh….Josh,” I can’t stop moaning his name. I want so much from him right now and I reach down.
He brings his mouth up to mine whispering, “oh Kat. My Kat. My beautiful, beautiful Kat,” this is what heaven feels like I start to think, but then his lips are gone.
“Wait. Oh God Kat, Kat wait…I can’t… I can’t think straight when you’re…we have to…stop….we can’t…”
He moves my hands from his jeans and his butt, pinning both my wrists above my head with his right hand as he starts to gently kiss my neck and stroke my hair with his left hand. I have never had so much as a drop of alcohol to drink, but I feel drunk on him: his smells, his touch, his taste. All of it together is making my head spin.
Breathing now is harder with him on top of me. He must sense it as he shifts his weight to his right hip laying along my side but still holding my wrists in his one hand. I try to tug my hands free but he just holds them tighter.
“Uh uh. I don’t think…. I don??
?t think that’s such a great idea,” he whispers.
His ragged breathing is starting to slow down as he rests his head against mine before sitting up a little to pull my top back together with his free hand.
We hear an unexpected click in the darkness right before the overhead lights all flare on in a single flash. I have to blink my eyes a few times against the blinding glare. When I find Josh’s face, there’s so much raw desire and emotion there I instinctively try to roll over to be near him again. At that second, I have no other thought in my head and nothing exists in my world except wanting to get closer to him, but his hand on my hip keeps space between our bodies.
He opens his mouth to say something but freezes when we hear, “KATIE? KATIE, ARE YOU BACK THERE? I’M YOUR RIDE HOME TONIGHT REMEMBER?”
Oh sweet Jesus, it’s Laurel. I can hear her heels tap tap tapping across the wooden stage.
A microsecond later, we break apart to opposite sides of the room getting re-dressed with our backs to each other. I hear him zip his jeans and a shudder of lightning runs through me from my neck right down to my toes making me lightheaded all over again. I grab my backpack from the corner at the same moment Laurel walks through the door.
“There you are,” she said all perky until she takes one look at my flushed face, then looks at Josh, then back at me.
“We better get going. It’s getting late. Mom doesn’t like me to drive after it gets dark,” she said turning on her heel to leave.
I throw my backpack over my shoulder. My whole body is still throbbing for him. I am positively humming.
I want to know what he was going to say before we heard Laurel call for me.
I want to ask him why he stopped us. I want…I don’t know what I want.
It takes every ounce of strength I have left in me to turn my head to look at him. For the first time I can remember, I can’t read what I see on his face.
I don’t know how I feel either.
When I catch up to Laurel crossing the stage I’m not sure what she must think of me. How much does she guess about what just happened in that room? In true BFF style, she simply hooks her arm around my waist and said, “your shirt buttons are crooked.”
I don’t get much sleep that night, or the next. Josh doesn’t call or text me for the next two days. He doesn’t come back to our lunch table on Thursday or Friday either. He stays in his new seat in Algebra, the one near the door and races out of class before I can even get out of my seat.
He’s avoiding me big time.
My brain is working overtime. Is he embarrassed? Is he ashamed? What kind of girl does he think I am now? Should I feel ashamed about what happened?
I think a lot about that last one. The short answer is…I don’t. I wanted to be with him and I don’t think I did anything wrong. After I have had enough time to process it all from every angle possible (thanks overactive brain), my feelings were natural. I’m kind of glad he did have enough common sense to slow us down before it got any farther, I didn’t have any protection or anything with me, but I don’t think I would have any huge regrets if we went all the way that afternoon. It’s not like I’m sleeping around, or have a different guy I’m hooking up with every night of the week.
There’s only ever been Josh who makes me feel on fire and so out of control that I'm desperate to be closer to him, and I think that means something important but I’m afraid to think too hard about what that might be.
Still lost in these thoughts Friday before getting ready to head up to the school for the show, I absentmindedly pick up my phone to send a text.
Josh?
I wait a few minutes, but, no reply.
Backstage is a madhouse with people running around everywhere borrowing makeup and checking props while stage crew are running lighting and microphone cables, putting fresh tape down to mark our positions on the stage.
I’m dressed and sitting in front of the makeup mirror in the dressing room a little dazed.
The show goes off without a hitch and I do have a lot of fun partnering with Jaxon for our scenes, though not the kind of fun Josh and I had just a couple nights before.
The cast takes our bows, the curtain falls and we all yell before dispersing to find out families and friends. I meet my Mom and Dad outside the theater with roses. There are lots of hugs and pictures and so much praise that I’m blushing slightly under all my pancake stage makeup when I see Josh walking toward us.
“Hey,” he said with a hesitant smile, “you were…amazing. I got these for you,” he said handing me a bouquet.
My Mom gasps, “oh Josh, they’re just beautiful, they look so exotic what are they?”
“Hibiscus. My favorite flower,” I answer, "how did you..."
“You better go hurry and get changed so we can get these flowers home and into some water,” Mom said shooing me off.
When I return with my face freshly scrubbed, Josh is still standing there with my parents.
“We’re going to give Josh a ride home honey since it’s raining, so let’s get your things into the car quick, ok?”
Great. I get to sit in the backseat with a guy who I got freaky hooking up with two days ago, who hasn’t talked me to since, with both of my parents in the front seat.
How could this possibly be the most awkward 10-minute drive of my life at all?
When Dad pulls the car around we hop in fast to get out of the rain. Josh and I sit far apart in the back seat of Dad’s SUV. I’m already exhausted from the night’s show but I’m so tense being only a foot away from Josh that I don’t know what do to with myself. The parking lot is packed, plus it’s raining heavy so we pretty much just sit there as all the other drivers try to figure out how to get out of the parking lot safely without turning it into one massive game of bumper cars. Up front, Mom and Dad start discussing the best ways to navigate our way out of the mess.
I can’t take the tense silence anymore, “were you able to see the whole show?” I quietly ask him.
He turns a little toward me, “yeah, it was great. It was really cool seeing all the stuff we built and how it looked from the audience.”
“Good.” Ugh. How much do I suck at small talk?
“I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
His voice goes a little lower, “I promised you I’d be there for your opening night. No matter what,” I hear him take in a shaky breath, “your portraits looked incredible up there. Almost as good as you did.”
“Thanks,” I smile.
“It worked you keeping the fall at the end of Act II. The audience thought it was hilarious. You’ll have even more fans at school on Monday.”
I feel my face burn a little bit at the mention of the fall on my backside in the bar scene and remembering how it came to be makes me grateful for the relative darkness of the car.
“There’s only one fan I care about at school,” I say before I can stop myself hearing my voice catch as I sit there desperately trying to hold all my feelings inside and not cry.
“Kat,” Josh said reaching across the seat to grab my hand. I squeeze back hard. As the tears start to leave a trail down my face he pulls me across the seat as much as the seatbelt allows putting his arm around my shoulder and whispers, “we’ll figure it out Kat. I promise.”
When we get to Josh's house, he gives me a small kiss on the cheek before climbing out of the car.
When I get home, I head straight upstairs and fall into bed exhausted. I have never been this tired or felt this spent in my entire life.
The buzz on my phone makes my stomach knot up. I hesitate for a second before I reach for it, unlike in the past when I have hoped it was Josh and practically dropped everything scrambling to pick it up.
When I hesitate, it buzzes again letting me know I still have an unread message waiting.
It's from Josh.
You really were amazing Kat. I'm so proud of you. Sweet dreams. dwb
dwb
Don't write back.
Sa
turday, last show then the cast party.
Deep breath Katie.
Can’t get Josh on the phone. He’s not answering his cell or his texts. I spend the afternoon trying to relax until we leave for the show at 7pm, but I stay in my room to read; without him the fort is just a lonely place to me filled with too much quiet and too many painful memories.
The show goes beautifully that night with everyone clapping and laughing in the right places, we take our final bows then pile into cars to caravan to the cast party at a student’s house nearby.
Climbing down the stairs, I head to the finished basement and let out a low whistle when I catch sight of it. Amy Tran's mom must be one hell of a caterer because their house looked big from the outside, but their finished basement is unbelievable. It looks as big as a football field with a pool table at one end, a home gym full of some seriously scary looking exercise equipment, and two hallways at one end with lots of doors.
I step into the main part of the room to find a bunch of people already there getting settled and several more right behind me.
Amy's mom has laid out three long tables end-to-end along one wall with every square inch piled high with food that's making my mouth water as the scents drift over. Wow. I'll bet Dad would love to corner her for some recipes for one of his Superbowl Sunday parties.
Speaking of football, Zach and Stacy (Cheerleader Barbie's real name) are already cuddling in a corner.
I smile to myself. Leave it to Laurel to move faster than greased lightning.
Though you would NEVER get me to admit it aloud, they really do look cute together, and very happy. She's on his lap rubbing her arms as he puts his letterman jacket around her shoulders, she peeks up and sees me. I give her a tentative smile possibly expecting another flamethrower wish look, or one of triumphant victory, but to my total shock, all I get is a shy wave and a huge dazzling smile with not even a hint of anything ugly. She looks positively ecstatic, and suddenly I'm really happy for both of them.
I can’t stop myself from a quick little jealous pity party though, what about me?
I try to call Josh’s cell phone at 10pm after I grab a plate of the most insanely delicious food I have ever had (sorry Dad) and rehash the show with a few of the girls from the chorus. I want to ask Josh to come to the party so we can talk. On the third ring, a giggly girl answers his cell phone. I’m so shocked for a second, I don’t know what to say.
Did I misdial? Not possible, I have Josh on speed dial. He’s #3 for cripes sake right after my house and Laurel.
“Who is this?” I ask saying a quick prayer that Jaxon or Player snuck into my bag and reprogrammed Josh’s speed dial as their idea of a bad joke.
“Well who’s this?” the giggly female thing on the other end of the line said.
“I’m...can I talk to Josh please.”
“Well this isn’t him silly. This is Mandy.”
“Where is he?” I ask dreading the giggly thing's answer.
She whispers, “Joshy is in the bathroom changing his pants, I have to go now. He’s coming out and I want to surprise him in bed.”
With what few million functioning brain cells I have left, I power down my phone.
Oh God.
I grab my stomach and barely make it to the bathroom before I vomit up all of Mrs. Tran's amazing food. Definitely not as good coming up as it was going down. I drop to the floor shaking, too shocked to speak.
Joshy (?) is changing his pants.
Josh has a girl in his bed right this second. At 10pm on a Saturday night.
She giggles a lot and she wants to surprise him.
Ok. Ok. Ok, I can handle this. I fumble through the bathroom cabinet for some mouthwash to rinse the foul bitter taste from my mouth and open the bathroom door just in time to hear the house party rules from Mrs. Tran.
I make a conscious effort to focus on the words.
She doesn't want to know if we've brought any booze (does anyone calls it booze anymore?). The backyard gate stays locked. She has two simple House rules—One, no one leaves the house or the yard, and two, you can make out if both parties mutually agree to it, but nobody has sex.
“I have pepper spray, a 12,000 volt Taser on my hip (she pats a small black box hooked onto her belt for emphasis), and a 2nd degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do. I have no problem using any or all of them to persuade you to obey The House Rules. Any questions? Good. I'll be right upstairs watching a Firefly marathon on the sci-fi channel that runs until 6am. Don't interrupt me unless someone throws up or is bleeding from a head wound.”
She starts climbing the stairs, and then bends down to poke her face through the railings, "oh, almost forgot, the chicken satay sauce has peanuts, so if you have any nut allergies, don't eat it."
Geez embarrass teens much?
“We've got it Mom. Thanks,” Amy said then turns to everyone, “don't say I didn't try to warn you about her. She’s totally cool and totally deadly. Now. WHO WANTS TO