Breakaway (28 page)

The second set was even better than the first and I was glad Raine was the kind of person who would stay on the dance floor the whole time, not hang around the back putting down drinks and holding up the wall.

During the encore I started out dancing but after a minute was more interested in watching Raine dance. I was standing just behind her, and the way she was moving, rocking that body, with curves in places that a guy my age could only dream about because only women in their twenties and thirties had bodies like that. There was no conscious thought involved, but I was instantly hard and experienced a twinge of guilt about it. It wasn't as if I wanted to think about her in that way, but sometimes it was impossible for me not to.

The song ended and she turned around, caught me watching her. “What's the matter?” she asked, her face flushed, a glow of sweat across her face and chest. She wiped at the sweat above her upper lip.

“Nothing's the matter,” I said, my voice raised so she could hear me over the announcer, now talking into the mic.

“You weren't dancing,” she said, leaning in slightly so I didn't have to shout.

I was so hard by then that my groin ached, and I put my hand on the back of her neck, pulling her in so I could smell the sweat in her hair, and kissed her. Not on the lips or anything, but just let my lips graze her forehead. I put a hand on her arm to keep her from stepping into a hug. I was afraid she would press herself into me and feel that I was such a complete pervert that just watching her dance had given me an erection. Like middle school all over again.

She leaned in, her breath hot on my neck, and kissed the side of my throat. Which definitely didn't help. I almost passed out from all the blood rushing to my crotch.

The overhead lights came on then with an audible pop and people started to file past us on their way to the exit or toward the side of the stage, hoping the band would come out to sign autographs or something. If the lights hadn't come on then, if people hadn't started moving around us as we stood motionless on the dance floor, if I hadn't been so overwhelmed by the confusing flood of emotions I had every time I was around Raine, I probably would have kissed her.

I thought about it for the entire walk back to the Metro station, kept thinking I would grab her hand and pull her into one of the darkened doorways of the shops and houses we passed along the way. I would pull her into my arms and kiss her and … what? Tell her … something. Tell her I thought about her all the time, and not just because she was beautiful and sexy but also because she got my jokes and didn't put up with any of my shit and had a ton of sass. She would probably think I was crazy. And next summer, she would be gearing up to leave for college at some Ivy League school and I would be working full-time washing dishes and hauling trash for Chris. She would be planning a career as a doctor or a lawyer and I'd be making seventy-five cents above minimum wage.

I hadn't even kissed her yet but I already knew how this love story ended. It ended the way my life had begun—an accident, somebody else's mistake.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

We stood on the Metro platform waiting for a train without speaking much. Raine kept staring off into space, obviously lost in thought. She held my hand as we stepped onto the train and stood closer to me than she usually did.

When the train reached our home station we still hadn't said more than a few words to each other. The air between us was charged with an electric current I could feel in the core of my body. It was like we were both thinking the same thing, that we wanted to touch each other or kiss, but neither one of us knew how to just suddenly start touching each other in a familiar way. I kept my distance, was worried maybe I had read the whole thing wrong and she would just push me away.

Once we were in her car she finally spoke. “You want to go back to my place? Hang out for a bit?” she asked.

“Your parents won't freak out?” I asked.

“They aren't home. They went away for the weekend.”

“Oh,” I said, now feeling more uncomfortable than ever. I didn't really trust myself to be alone with Raine, but I didn't want to let her just drop me off, didn't want to be away from her. “Sure, that's cool,” I finally managed to say.

At her house she got drinks for us and led me to her room. I wasn't sure if her brother was home, or if he would care that I was there. If Syl had ever brought a guy back to our apartment when my mom was out I would have told him to keep his hands to himself and for her to leave her bedroom door open. Maybe Miles wasn't protective of his sister in that way, but I didn't want to find out.

She shut her bedroom door behind us and docked her iPhone before kicking of her shoes and flopping onto the bed. Her room was a mess, which was totally unexpected. There were piles of clothes everywhere and books and papers scattered around. The bed wasn't made and there were more clothes and a notebook tangled in the sheets.

“I know,” she said as she noticed me noticing the state of her room. “It's a mess. Sorry.”

“How old is that piece of pizza?” I asked with a nod toward a plate that was half-hidden by a book on her desk.

She glanced over her shoulder at the desk but looked back at me before saying, “Why? You hungry?”

“No,” I said with a meaningful glance around at her room. “This was … unexpected. I thought you'd have a perfectly neat room. Pink, frilly bed. Maybe a Hannah Montana poster or two…”

She cracked a smile at that. “You just going to stand in the middle of the room talking about what a mess it is?” She patted the space on the mattress beside her, inviting me to sit down.

Fighting the urge to clear my throat, I set my glass down on a pile of papers on the bedside table and sat down on the bed, leaving two feet of space between us. She raised one eyebrow slightly but didn't comment.

Then we started talking again, falling into conversation that was natural and easy, the way it had been when we still hated each other. It had always been easier for me to talk to her when I knew she hated me, didn't wonder whether she was judging every word that came out of my mouth. We talked about the show, the shows we wished we could see as she lay back and stared at the ceiling. I was tired, so after a while I did the same, my arms folded behind my head as a pillow.

Almost as soon as I lay back she rolled onto her side and scooted closer to me. It startled me when she rested her head on my chest, just below my shoulder, and my heart started to pound against my breastbone. I put my arm down so that it lay against her back but didn't curl my arm around her, so she could pull away easily if she wanted to. I wondered if she was a virgin or if I wasn't the first guy to see the inside of her room when her parents were out of town. My mind was so busy I forgot to say anything for a while and she lifted onto her elbow to look into my face.

“Thanks for taking me to the show tonight, Jason.”

“You're welcome,” I said.

“I'm going to kiss you,” she said, her eyes searching my face as she said it. “Okay?”

“Okay,” I said, my voice coming out as a hoarse whisper.

She struggled a little to pull her face level with mine, and we made a few awkward false starts as she tried to find a place to put her arm so that it wasn't in the way and she could reach her lips to mine. We both laughed a little nervously but then she was kissing me and I was forgetting to breathe and my chest started to feel tight from lack of oxygen and the stress of knowing that I was crazy about this girl. It was a feeling I had been fighting for a while and suddenly here she was, in my arms, feeling soft and warm and smelling like the night air and some kind of earthy lotion. Within a couple of minutes I rolled onto my side and let her fall back against my arm so I could press my body against hers. She let out a soft little moan and I almost lost control of my bladder, realizing that I had to pee, but not wanting to pull away from her for anything.

We kissed for a while and she was rubbing her hand through my hair, then trailed her fingers down my arm, making me shiver involuntarily. Then I really did have to pee and I pulled back from her and sat up.

“Where's your bathroom?” I asked.

When I returned she was sitting up in bed, looking at the notebook that had been tangled in the sheets.

“What are you reading?” I asked, this time going straight back to sit on the bed beside her.

“My journal. I try to practice writing. You know, in a place that no one else will see, so I don't have to feel self-conscious about it.”

“Oh,” I said as I leaned back on the pillows and covered my eyes with my forearm.

“You tired?” she asked.

“Sort of. Just … thinking.”

“You think too much,” she said as she tossed her notebook onto the end of the bed and leaned over to rest against my chest. I put my arm around her and rubbed her arm, but didn't try to kiss her again.

“You can stay over if you want,” she said. “But I'm not going to sleep with you.”

“You want me to sleep in the guest room or something?” I asked.

“I don't mean that. I mean I'm not going to
sleep
with you.”

I opened one eye to look at her, her head rested against my shoulder as she looked up into my face.

“What makes you think I would sleep with you?” I asked.

“You're a guy.”

“So? Doesn't mean I'm easy.”

She huffed out a laugh and shifted her head against my shoulder. “If you must know, I haven't slept with anyone. An honest-to-God virgin. I know that makes me like a unicorn, but I'm just not ready to go there.”

“I'm a virgin too,” I said.

“Really?” she asked, pushing herself up onto her elbow, her voice rising with disbelief.

“Really.”

“Madison said … well…” She stopped and her hand drifted up to stroke the lock of hair she always favored, just behind her left ear, tugging on it nervously.

“Madison doesn't know shit.”

“Yeah,” she said, and sank back to rest her head on my shoulder again. “Yeah, I know. But Alexis … well, she made it sound like you guys were sleeping together.”

“You worry too much about what other people say,” I said as I turned to drop a kiss on her forehead. “If I was going to sleep with a girl it would be you, Raine. But I'm not going to go there. You've got everything going for you. You don't need to fuck it all up.”

She didn't respond to that—or if she did, I didn't notice, because I must have dozed off shortly after that. I woke in the middle of the night, and Raine was still close to me, her arm folded against my chest, her head tucked up against my shoulder and our bodies tangled together for warmth like puppies sleeping in a litter. As I rolled onto my side so I was facing her, she murmured softly, half awake. I kissed her on the forehead and she snuggled in closer to me without waking up completely.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

That was the beginning for us, for Raine and me. After that we became something like boyfriend and girlfriend—spent every free moment we had together even if at school we mostly still acted like strangers. We spent the golden hours between school and her parents getting home from work lying in bed talking, listening to music, or making out. We never brought up what would happen at the end of senior year, where we would be or go. We just lived in the moments we spent together. Every thought or experience I had didn't become real until I told Raine about it. Every new song or band I heard that I liked was irrelevant until I could share it with Raine.

Love, some people would call it. But we didn't call it anything. I never said I loved her. I didn't say it because those words were someone else's, not mine. I didn't say it, because anyone can say it and not mean it. I didn't say it, because saying it would make it harder when I had to let her go.

And Raine seemed to get all that. She seemed to get me. And with Mario and Sylvia gone, that made her unique.

 

 

The following week I got to work one night at the bar and found Jordie there waiting for me. He was perched awkwardly on a barstool, unconsciously twisting from side to side as he watched the television suspended over the shelves of liquor bottles. Chris was in his usual position, reading the paper with one elbow rested on the rail of the bar.

“What's up?” I asked Jordie, giving him a chin thrust. Chris didn't even look up to say hello.

“Hey,” Jordie said, his voice quiet and apologetic. We hadn't spoken since the cotillion, had gone out of our way to avoid each other at school. With soccer season over, we had no reason to see each other unless we made a point of it.

“Come on back,” I said with a nod toward the kitchen. Chris dragged his eyes from the paper for a lazy glance in my direction but didn't say anything.

“What's up?” I asked again as we walked through the kitchen and I hung my jacket on the peg near the back door. I didn't clock in. Would wait until I actually started doing any work so I didn't have to hear anything from Chris about me being a slacker.

Jordie shrugged and kept his gaze fixed on the floor. “I figured you and I needed to have words. Clear the air,” he said.

“Yeah?” I asked. “About what?”

He scowled, his lips pursed, then said, “Goddammit, Jaz. Don't make it fucking difficult. You know about what.”

I bit off an angry retort, didn't want to give him the opener. I wasn't going to make it easy for him. While it was true I didn't fault him for what had happened with Brian, for him not having my back, I still didn't feel like just letting him off the hook.

“You seen Chick lately?” I asked, diverting the conversation so abruptly that it startled him.

“No,” Jordie said, and the weight of our discomfort with each other was lifted for a moment as we turned to safer topics.

“I'm worried about him,” I said as I spun the knob that would drain the dishwasher and fill it with fresh hot water and detergent. “He came by the other day when I wasn't home. Mom said he didn't look so good. He's been missing school a lot lately. I thought maybe it was just because it was getting cold out, you know, as sick as he gets.” I didn't finish the thought. Jordie would know what I meant. Once the weather turned cold Chick would miss more school than most other people. I hated to admit to myself or anyone else that I had been so preoccupied lately with spending time with Raine and working that I had forgotten to worry about Chick or Mario or Jordie much. If I was being completely honest, I hadn't really thought about them at all. I hadn't even been by to see Primo and Mario's mom, which I had promised I would do, even if Mario and I weren't speaking.