Chapter 7
Saturday afternoon I run into Josh, almost literally, when I'm out biking. I come around a corner too quick and he's right there in the street. He grabs onto my handlebars catching me before I wipe out.
He’s all sweaty in a tank top and running shorts that leave very little to the imagination, but my imagination has been very active lately with Zach and Liam and kissing Jaxon on stage. I try distracting myself with how beautiful it is out today and glance up at the huge Poplar Tree in the yard next to us.
In Virginia, summer can last well into fall sometimes, but I’m looking forward to the leaves changing into vibrant bursts of orange and red any minute.
“You have such a weird look on your face right now,” he told me.
“My face is not weird.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Oh. Well, I was just thinking how Autumn is my favorite time of year: warm fuzzy sweaters, the fresh crisp scent in the air, apple cider, fires in the fireplace, hot cocoa, all the leaves changing colors and falling. I can hardly wait for it all to kick in.”
“I sort of remember it. Didn’t your Dad used to make huge piles in the back yard for us to jump in from the top of the fort ladder?” he said.
“They both did. I missed you at lunch today.”
“Aw, you missed me?”
“Not like that, you big goofball. Where were you?”
“I was buried under a mountain of books in the library. What are you doing this weekend?”
“Player told us about a senior girl who is throwing a Halloween party a couple of streets over in our neighborhood. Her parents are out of town but supposedly she has an older brother home from college and he has a rock band,” I tell him.
“A college guy huh? That Player knows?”
“Yeaaahh. College guys,” I say wiggling my eyebrows and flashing my lame attempt at a wicked grin, “Laurel is grounded this weekend. She said it’s killing her that she can’t go. I’m heading to her house right after the party. Supposed to spy and report back what everyone’s costume is and rate the hotness of the college guys she’s missing out on. It’s going to be fun. You should come. I don’t have anyone to pal around with since Laurel’s on house arrest.”
“I’m working on a PowerPoint team project in history and I can’t get one of the people on our team to email me their part. Looks like I am going to have to rework their whole section this weekend if they don’t send it so we can get the project in on time. I won’t be able to make it. Besides, my Mom wants me to help hand out candy. What’s your costume going to be?” he asks.
“I’m not sure yet. I’m not really into the whole dressing up thing.”
“Said the girl who wants to act in the spring play which is all about dressing up.”
I playfully punch his arm and my puny fist meets a solid wall of muscle. Ow. And, wow.
“I’m sure you’ll come up with something interesting Kat,” Josh said with a grin and runs off up the street.
I decide to draw whiskers on my face with a black eyeliner pencil and a little black triangle for a nose.
Kat. Cat. Josh and his subliminal messaging.
A black t-shirt and tight black leggings complete my feline transformation. Laurel will be disappointed in the boring simplicity and lack of accessorizing, but I decide this is the best I can do without her supervision, and head out to do my first reconnaissance mission for her.
I get to the party a little bit late, but no surprise, I find the cheerleaders have come dressed as slutty, well…everything: slutty nurses, slutty bunnies, slutty Disney princesses (don’t need to be a psychiatrist to figure out there goes the last of your childhood innocence). There are more than a few slutty cats too which, if the looks they keep throwing my way are any indication, my homemade black cat costume does not compare favorably.
After about twenty minutes of mindless wandering saying hi to random people I know, I sneak off to an upstairs bedroom trying to escape the brain-pounding music the ‘band’ is cranking out in the living room that’s starting a major jackhammer headache at the back of my skull.
I knock softly on the first closed door and receive a “DUDE! OCCUPADO! FIND YOUR OWN ROOM!” in reply. Moving on.
I hear a door close behind me and turn to head down to the end of the hallway. The next door I try, thankfully, has no one yelling at me from the other side when I knock, but still I open it just a sliver to be sure, and call out into the darkness of the room, “Sorry to interrupt. Just me, Katie O’Connell, Chantilly High junior looking for a few minutes of quiet to escape the music. Anyone in here?”
The band is still so blaringly loud I can barely hear my own thoughts, much less if anyone is in here, but just then there’s a break in the music and from the back of the room I hear a male voice reply, “just a friend”.
Then the base kicks in again thumping up through the floorboards so bad I can feel it under my feet with each step I take into the room. Closing the door behind me I exhale in relief then start to wonder which male ‘friend’ is sharing the dark with me.
Turns out, I don’t have to wonder for long.
I run my hand along the wall closest to the door trying to find a light switch when the voice from the dark said, “Don’t. Please don’t turn on the light.”
Who the heck is in here? I can hear his words, sort of, but I can’t recognize his voice clearly enough through the din of the music that I swear is going to shake the house down to a pile of rubble any minute.
Whoever he is, his eyes have obviously had longer to adjust to the dark than mine.
“Who are you?” I ask into the room's darkness.
“You don’t know?”
“Duh, if I knew I wouldn’t have to ask,” was that a little laugh from the other side of the room?
“It’s…..a friend.”
“Yeah, I got that part earlier. A friend of mine? Do I know you?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Look, I can barely hear you over the music, my head is pounding, and I’m not exactly in the mood to play 20 questions,” I say.
“What are you in the mood for?” Crap. That voice was clearer and way closer to me now than it was when I first came in here. Even though the voice sounds playful, it’s beginning to dawn on me that being in a dark room, alone with a strange guy, is so not going to win me any sound judgment awards.
“Not much tonight,” I say as I start backing up to the door.
“Please stay.” Crap! The voice is right in front of me now but I still cannot recognize anything about it except that it’s softer, and pleading.
Stupid college band drowning out everything.
My brain starts arguing with itself. What if this is some huge college guy getting ready to pounce on me? What if he’s a cute, not-so-huge college guy who just wants to fool around with absolutely no interest in pouncing? Do you remember any of the self-defense moves you learned in the one free karate lesson you and Laurel took a year ago? What if he really is someone you know? What then?
“Please,” the voice whispers softly, close enough now that I can feel his breath on my face. My lungs lock up. His breath has a kind of minty smell. Like his having good oral hygiene is going to matter? My heart’s pounding faster but I can’t make myself move away. I blink a few more times; shouldn’t my eyes have adjusted by now? All I can see is a guy standing, maybe inches, in front of me and he’s tall. Taller than me anyway which isn't saying much.
Is it sick, desperate, or just plain stupid that I am actually feeling more excited than scared now? Do bad guys use soft pleading voices? Of course! But I don’t seem to care. How stupid is that?
The arguments in my brain come to a grinding halt when I feel his hand begin lightly rubbing up and down my bare arm. Why is that making me breathe faster? His fingertips are so light they leave a trail of goose bumps where he touches my skin. I feel his whole body move closer to me at the same time he puts his other hand on my waist, with a light squeeze before resting it a
bove my hip. I swear I can hear my rapid breathing over the rock music and my heart is hammering in my chest in time with the base downstairs. Can mystery guy can hear it too?
As he leans his head down to my left ear, I hear him make a noise in the back of his throat like a half growl, half mmmm-yummy sound. Why but this makes my heart race faster and my stomach flip upside down. Crap does this mean I’m kinky? Getting excited making out with a stranger in a darkened room? I should leave, but I seriously do not want to. I want to see what happens next.
His lips softly kiss my temple near my hairline, working their way down my neck to nip at the bottom of my ear. THAT’s what’s next! My legs start to feel like jelly while my stomach has started doing back flips. Is this hyperventilating? I will feel like such an ass if I pass out right now.
Suddenly, my hands are on his waist grabbing at handfuls of his shirt to steady myself, but all I can think is how hard his stomach muscles are. I need to know what they feel like skin-to-skin. Before I can stop to think twice I slip my hands under his shirt, and that’s when that little sound in the back of his throat turns to a full on moan in my ear.
For a split second the voice in my head yells, what the hell are you doing Katie? But the next moment his mouth finds mine in the dark and I can’t think any more. I am nothing now but a fireball of sensations everywhere. How he tastes (cinnamon), how he smells (fresh soap), how his stomach feels under my palms (rock hard but silky smooth too), how easily his tongue darts in and out of my mouth (OMG!), how he manages to suck on my bottom lip and my tongue at the same time (Double OMG!).
All my senses are on maximum overload.
So THIS is kissing!
The next thing I know I’m moaning louder than the music downstairs and I’m sure everyone can hear me.
I also know I could not give a damn if someone paid me a million dollars to.
Please keep touching me.
Please let me keep touching you.
His one hand has moved up from my waist to my back, under my shirt where his fingers and thumb are going back and forth from stroking all over my skin to digging into my back to pulling me hard against his whole body. His other hand is buried somewhere in my hair at the back of my head. My mind registers this is the best hug ever.
I have no idea what I am doing, but I cannot stop myself. My hands and lips have minds of their own. The one singular thought in my head is that I am starving for the taste of his lips; I cannot get my fill and I want more. So. Much. More.
While our lips are nonstop on each other’s, my hands are rubbing everywhere along his bare back, his spine, his ribs. I feel bold and reckless as I reach down to grab his butt pulling him up against me. I can feel how excited he is.
The new knowledge does not scare me. It thrills me. He moans louder into my mouth, almost growling now, his fingers dig into my skin. I tilt my head to take the kiss even deeper as fireworks explode inside my body.
That is the moment when he takes his lips back and I feel disoriented for a minute.
What just happened? Where did his mouth go?
We’re both breathing so hard and so fast. I’m still crushed against his chest with both of his arms wrapped around me so my whole upper body is moving in time with his heavy breathing.
Is he shaking?
I try to tilt my head back to find his lips again, but he just keeps his cheek pressed next to mine depriving me of what every cell in my body is now desperate to feel again.
“Oh man….oh man, I have dreamed about doing that for so long you have no idea,” he manages to say between ragged breaths.
His voice is hoarse and raspy. I can’t even string two single syllable words together. My lips are throbbing, my body’s on fire, and my mind is total mush.
“I have to go. God knows I don’t want to, but, I really have to go,” he told me. The next minute I’m left standing in the middle of a dark room, dazed and confused, and totally alone.
What. The. Hell. Was. That?
My heartbeat and breathing slow down. My brain fog begins to clear as I reach up to touch my swollen lips. One thought comes blazing through my head. He knows who you are but you have no freaking clue who he is! And now, he’s gone!
He just crossed #5 off your junior bucket list (and then some) and you have No Idea Who He Is!
RUN YOU IDIOT! RUN AFTER HIM!
I tear out of the room blinking a few times when the hallway light painfully strikes my eyes. Once I can see again, I race down the stairs nearly tripping over a couple making out. I nudge them with the tip of my shoe demanding to know if they saw a guy just go past. I get a lovely ‘Fuck Off Cat’ for interrupting them and head to the bottom of the stairs trying not to fall and break my neck in the process.
I stop on the bottom step to look around the living room. There are people everywhere talking, dancing, drinking, some making out in corners (lucky bastards). He said I know him. What guys do I see that I know?
Everyone looks calm. No one looks flushed or is breathing heavy like I am. I catch Player’s eye where he is standing by the fireplace talking with a tall blonde. He winks and blows me a kiss. No way! It couldn’t be him! He looks too relaxed right Katie? He should be all hot and bothered like me. But he is tall with some serious AB muscles I remember him showing off at the pool last summer. Dear Universe, please do not let it be him.
I look to my right into the family room desperate to find another guy I know. I see Jaxon leaning against the wall talking with the good-looking redheaded guy from our drama class. Jaxon looks up and gives me a little smile. Is he being shy? Would he feel shy if I figured out it was him? Jaxon could not be the guy who I was just tongue wrestling with and rubbing up against like a cat in heat. The guy who kissed me at the One Act Festival and the mystery guy upstairs cannot be the same boy.
Zach walks out of the kitchen carrying a coke and stares at me with a look of pure surprise on his face. He’s wearing a superman t-shirt and being on the football team for two years would definitely give him a defined body. Would he look shocked to see me so soon after making out?
I don’t know what to do, and panic begins to claw at my insides. I can’t catch a full breath. The music is still blaring and my head is back to pounding at full force now that I’m closer to the band. I make a snap decision to call it a night and head for the door nearly colliding with Josh coming in. He grabs my arms to keep me from falling back.
“Easy there Kat, where you running off to? Is the party over already?”
“For me yes, but there’s plenty of food, drink, and girls flying solo left if you’re interested. I have to go.” It all comes out in a harsh rush as I push past him to get out of the house.
I need to clear my head.
I need some fresh air and quiet.
What the hell was I thinking?
I quickly stalk down the sidewalk to my house a few streets away. I’m supposed to sleepover at Laurel’s tonight to report back on the party.
I can’t face her yet.
She’s like a human lie detector. I won’t be able to hide anything from her, and I’m not ready for anyone else to know what just happened. Not even my best friend. Especially since, I have no idea what just happened.
I hear someone running up behind me; if they’re planning something stupid, boy did they pick the wrong girl tonight. I am so on edge I feel like I could knock out a heavyweight boxer with one punch.
“Kat! Kat, slow down will you?”
Just my luck, it’s only Josh.
I slow down a little and he falls into step beside me.
“You ok? You seemed upset back there.”
“I’m…I’m fine, just a…a bad headache that’s all. The music was too loud and I couldn’t take it anymore.” Not a total lie.
“You want me to walk home with you?”
“It’s a free country,” I snap at him.
“Oookaaay.”
There is no reason to be such a short-tempered jerk to Josh righ
t now. He’s just trying to be nice. I stop abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk and try to do some Zen yoga breathing like Mom taught me--blowing out all the bad (deep exhale), in with the good (deep inhale), out with the bad, in with the good. A few more times sucking in the crisp October night air and my head feels a little clearer. My mind is a little calmer. My shoulders relax and drop.
The music and party are far behind us now. I’m calmed even more by the comforting familiar sounds of nearby crickets and the gentle breeze rustling the last of the leaves desperately clinging to the branches overhead. I have a better understanding of that kind of desperation now.
I start walking again, a little slower this time, “sorry I was so mean back there.”
“It’s ok. Did something happen at the party?” he asks.
“Not that I want to talk about. No offense, but we’re still figuring out how to be friends again, you don’t just dump your problems on a new friend.”
“It’s ok. I get it. But, technically, I’m an old friend, not a new one you know.”
He makes me smile even when I don’t want to--definitely a good friend quality to have.
We walk together for a few more blocks in peaceful silence. I have calmed down, a lot, but my mind is still racing.
What was I thinking? I have never done anything like that in my life. I have never felt anything like that in my life.
Is kissing like that for everyone?
That could explain why Laurel likes kissing guys so much. She is always saying I should try it. What I did tonight? Probably not quite what she had in mind for my first kiss. She is going to go nuts when I tell her.
Did I even do all that? I grabbed a strange guy’s butt in the dark and then…. Oh. My. God.
A shoulder bump jars me back to reality.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Josh said.
“Worth more than a penny tonight, mister.”
“Really? Why?” he asks.
Gratefully we are at my house now and I do not have to come up with a convenient lie.
“I thought you were going to Laurel’s tonight?” he asks me, stopping to lean against the big oak in our front yard.
“I was, but I’m…just not feeling up to it now. I’ll call her tomorrow with all the party gossip.”
“Gossip? Like what? Anything good to share with the new guy?” he asks me.
“Oh, you know…the usual…who wore what, who brought alcohol, who had too much to drink and threw up, worst costume/best costume, who was making out with who.”
“Whom,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“I think it’s 'who was making out with whom'.”
“Sounds right. Sorry Grammar geek, my mind is just mush right now.”
“Why?” I notice Josh is quiet and watching me closely. Could he know what I did? My hand instinctively goes to cover my lips as if to hide what I did. His eyebrows rise up the tiniest bit.
Does he know the guy? What if my mystery guy has already blabbed about me all over Facebook. Holy hell. I could be the new school slut in less than an hour. That is all it takes anymore. One split second of stupid for a whole years worth of pain and humiliation.
My head is starting to hurt again.
“I have to go. I’ll see you later,” I turn to run into the house without looking back but I hear him say behind me, “See you Kat. Sleep well.”