Pretending to Dance (32 page)

*   *   *

In front of the restaurant, Sienna hugs each of us. I feel the bulge of her belly against my body.

“You two are the first people I've met who are actually
happy
that I'm pregnant.” She laughs.

We give her directions to get out of Old Town and watch as she heads for her car. Aidan and I are quiet as we walk hand in hand in the opposite direction to our own car. We don't speak until we're seated inside, seat belts fastened. He looks at me.

“Wow.” He smiles.

“I know.” I smile back.

“I do worry,” he says gently, “that in your effort to be sure that she's sure, you're going to scare her away.”

“How would I do that?” I ask.

“Just … your intensity.” He smiles again, letting me know that, in general, he likes my intensity. It's only in this situation that it worries him.

“I want to be sure she knows her rights,” I say. “If she places her baby with us, I want to be sure it's with her whole heart and—”

“It will never be with her whole heart,” he says. “You could feel her pain. There's always going to be pain.”

“Nine tenths of her heart then.”

He reaches across the gearshift to take my hand.

“I think you missed your calling, babe,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“The way you talked to her.” He runs his thumb over the back of my hand. “The way you drew her out. Supported her. I've really never seen that side of you before. You should have been a counselor,” he says. “You could have been a therapist like your father.”

The smile I give him is weak, but he doesn't seem to notice. He lets go of my hand and turns the key in the ignition, and by the time he pulls the car into the street, my eyes are burning.

He can't know how much his words disturb me.

 

39

Swannanoa

In my world, grown-ups were honest, and—except for the occasional drunken pushing of my father off a pavilion—good. So I was totally shocked when I got to Stacy's house and discovered that her mother planned to spend the night at the apartment of the man she was seeing. Stacy and I would have her house to ourselves for the entire night.

“Don't tell your mom,” Stacy's mother said with a wink as she got ready to leave. She combed her black hair, which was only slightly less shiny than Stacy's, in the hallway mirror and applied her ruby-colored lipstick. I was standing next to Stacy inside the front door, my backpack over my shoulder, still in shock at the realization that she was leaving us alone for the night.

“What your mom doesn't know won't hurt her,” Stacy's mother added. “She sounds like one of those mothers who hovers, is she?”

“Yes,” I said. Did she hover? I didn't think I'd really describe her that way.

“I believe in trusting my kids,” Stacy's mother continued as she picked up her purse from the table by the front door. “It helps them grow up, having to make choices for themselves instead of me making them for them,” she said. “That's the way I've always done it and they're all still alive, right?” She smiled at me, and I could see where Stacy got her prettiness from. “None of them has ever been arrested or flunked out of school, so I think I'm doing a fine job.”

Stacy rolled her eyes at me.

“Bye, now,” her mother said with a wave. She pecked Stacy on the cheek. “Be good!”

We watched her walk out the front door, and neither of us said a word until we heard her car door slam. Then Stacy let out a whoop. She spread her arms wide, and tipped her head back to look at the ceiling. “Freedom!” she shouted. “Woo-hoo!”

I smiled. “This is going to be so amazing!” I said, but my hand slipped into my shorts pocket and circled my palm stone before I even realized what I was doing.

*   *   *

We sat in Stacy's room listening to
Step by Step
as we put on our makeup. “I talked to Bryan once I realized we'd have the house to ourselves,” Stacy said. “They're bringing pizza over. He said they can stay all night if we want them to.” She gave me a knowing look in the mirror. “Like we wouldn't want them to.” She laughed.

Oh my God,
I thought, as I applied mascara to my lashes with a trembling hand. What was wrong with me? I wished I could have been as calm as Stacy. I was a nervous wreck.

We had the music pumped up in the living room when Chris and Bryan showed up around nine-thirty. I'd taken my glasses off but even blurry Chris looked hotter than I remembered. His blond hair had grown a little and it curled over the tops of his ears and at the nape of his neck, and his dimples—there were actually two of them—were so deep and sexy, I didn't know how I'd missed them the first time I met him. Bryan pulled Stacy into a long, deep kiss, but the kiss Chris gave me was sweet and tender and I liked that. I liked that he seemed to know me that well already.

They'd brought two pizzas with them and a six-pack of beer they'd somehow been able to get and we sat in the kitchen eating and talking. I remembered Stacy saying she'd never drink because of her father being an alcoholic, but she was first to pull a bottle from the six-pack. I sipped the beer. I didn't like the taste at all but I was determined to get it down.

“So when's this New Kids concert you two are going to?” Chris asked.

“August eighth,” I said. “In Atlanta.”

“Only a bunch of teenyboppers'll be there,” Bryan said.

“Yeah,” Stacy agreed, “but it'll be cool anyhow.”

I felt betrayed by her for dissing the New Kids, but I knew she was under Bryan's spell and couldn't really help herself.

The guys ate a whole pizza between them and Stacy had two slices, but I couldn't even make it through one. I watched Chris's hands as he ate. He had the most beautiful hands in the world and I wanted him to hold my hand like he had that first day when we'd sat together on the couch. I felt his gaze on me no matter what I was doing in the kitchen. When I stood up to get him another beer from the refrigerator or carry my plate to the sink, he was watching me. I could tell he liked looking at me, and for the first time ever, I felt truly pretty. I smiled a lot, trying to imagine what he was seeing when he looked at me.

“We're going upstairs.” Stacy said suddenly. She and Bryan stood up, holding hands. “We'll be in my mom's room,” she said to me. “You guys can use the guest room if you want.”

They went upstairs and my heart pounded against my rib cage. I thought of suggesting that Chris and I go into the living room and listen to more music. I wasn't at all ready for a bedroom.

“Check this out.” Chris reached into his back pocket and brought out his wallet. From inside, he handed me the half photograph I'd sent him of myself and I saw that he'd actually
laminated
it. I laughed. Dani was so wrong about him. He wasn't a player.

“I need to do this with yours, too,” I said, touching a corner of the photograph.

He put the picture back in his wallet, then stood up and held his hand out to me. “Let's go find that guest room,” he said.

I couldn't say no. I was so afraid of sounding fourteen. I took his hand and we climbed the stairs. In the upstairs hallway, we heard giggling coming from behind the closed door of Stacy's mom's room. Chris pushed open another door and turned on the overhead light, and I saw a big bed, neatly made. “This must be it,” he said.

He turned the light off and I followed him into the room. He sat down on the side of the bed and drew me down next to him. He smelled of beer and cigarettes and I wanted to sink into the scent of him. He kissed me softly, his arms around me. “I won't ask you to do anything you don't want to do,” he said.

I tried to say
thank you,
but the words didn't come out. I nodded instead, though I knew he couldn't see me in the dark. He stretched out on the bed, drawing me down next to him. He leaned over to kiss me and I tasted pizza and beer. His promise of not doing anything I didn't want gave me courage and I parted my lips as he slipped his tongue inside my mouth.

“You can put your tongue in my mouth, too,” he said after a while.

“I didn't know the girl could do that,” I said.

He laughed. “There are no rules,” he said. “The girl can do whatever she likes.”

I put my tongue in his mouth and felt his teeth, and his warm tongue touched mine. He put his hand on my breast through my T-shirt. I was on my back and knew my breast was almost completely flat in that position. When I imagined being with Johnny Depp, I was always on my side exactly for that reason, but Chris didn't seem to care. He reached under my shirt and around my back. “Sit up a little so I can…” I turned so he could unhook my bra, and when he covered my breast with his warm bare hand, a moan came out of my throat, unexpected.

“Can we take your shirt off?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, sitting up. I slipped my T-shirt and bra off, glad of the darkness. He took off his T-shirt, and when we lay down again, I felt his chest against mine.
Amazing.
“You're so beautiful,” he said. He lay on his back and lifted me on top of him until I was straddling him. I was stunned by how easily he could move my body, as though I was made of cotton instead of flesh and bone. His strength both excited and scared me.

“You okay?” he asked, his hands on my ribs.

I felt his hard penis pressing against me through his jeans and my shorts. “Yes,” I whispered. We kissed and began to rock together, the pressure of his penis electrifying against my body. I felt an alien sensation in my groin, something building, something that seemed utterly out of my control, and I stopped the rocking motion, afraid of what was happening to me.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“I don't know,” I said. “I just felt … strange.”

“Define
strange
.”

“Like I was going to explode or something.”

He laughed. “You were going to come,” he said. “You shouldn't have stopped, you crazy girl.”

Oh my God.
That was what coming felt like?

“You don't know what that means, do you?” he asked. “I keep forgetting how young you are.”

“Yes, I do too know,” I said. I didn't want him to think about my age. “I know what it is. I've just never felt it before.” The phone rang from the hallway. It rang and rang and rang while we talked over the sound.

“It feels good,” he said. “You'll like it.” He slipped his fingers under the waistband of my shorts. “Take these off and I'll show you what coming's all about.”

I held on to his hand to stop him. “I don't want to have sex yet,” I said.

“It's okay,” he said. “I'll just touch you. I promise. I'm not going to hurt you or do anything you don't want, remember? Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I said. I
did
trust him. I let go of his hand and he gently lifted me from his body to the bed. He pulled my shorts off, then my underpants, and I swallowed hard against how vulnerable I felt, lying there naked. He kissed me, then slid his hand down my belly, over my pubic hair. I clamped my legs closed. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“I'm going to make you come. I promise you'll like it. But you have to let me in.”

I opened my legs about an inch and nearly died when he touched me.

He groaned. “You feel so good,” he said. “It makes me want to fuck you so bad.”

His fingers were moving. He slipped one inside me and I gasped. My legs had moved apart on their own and my breathing was coming in short, sharp bursts. His hand seemed to be touching me everywhere down there at once, and I felt that going-to-explode feeling I'd had moments earlier when we were rocking together. He kissed me, but I could hardly concentrate on his lips, I was so breathless.

“How's that feel?” he asked.

There was no way I could possibly answer. My body was on fire and I nearly yelped when he suddenly took his hand away.

I opened my eyes to see him standing at the side of the bed, unzipping his jeans. He started to pull them down.

“No!” I said, sitting up, grabbing his hands. “Please, no.”

“I have a Trojan,” he said. “It'll be all right. I won't hurt you.”

“No, Chris. I don't want to.
Please.
”

He stopped tugging at his jeans. Then wordlessly, abruptly, he walked out of the room. I felt like crying. He was angry. I'd totally ruined the moment. I groped around on the bed for my underpants and my bra, fighting tears as I put them on. I was trembling all over. I felt the beer at the back of my throat.

By the time he came back in the room a few minutes later, I'd found my bra and had it halfway on. “You're getting dressed?” he asked. It was too dark to make out the expression on his face.

“I didn't think you were coming back,” I said.

“I just had to go … take care of something.” He laughed. “You got me so heated up, I was going to end up with blue balls if I didn't jerk off.”

I knew what
jerk off
meant. I wasn't sure about
blue balls
.

He sat down next to me and kissed me softly. “I told you I wouldn't do anything you didn't want,” he said, and I felt terrible for doubting him.

The phone rang again as he helped me hook my bra. We cuddled together on the bed and I was relieved to be in his arms again.

“Have you done it with a lot of girls?” I asked, remembering what Dani had said about him hooking up with “everybody.” Suddenly, I wondered if she might have been one of them.

He didn't answer right away. “A few. Remember, I have a bunch of years on you.”

“Did you ever do it with my cousin Danielle?”

“That skank? No!”

I remembered Dani at the party, sitting on the ground next to my father, crying as she tried to comfort him. I didn't want anyone calling her a skank.