Read Something About Love: A YA contemporary romance in verse Online

Authors: Elana Johnson

Tags: #young adult contemporary romance, #young adult, #Contemporary, #poetry, #Romance, #young adult contemporary, #novel-in-verse, #young adult romance, #contemporary romance

Something About Love: A YA contemporary romance in verse (5 page)

BOOK: Something About Love: A YA contemporary romance in verse
3.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

When I see her beat-up Toyota round the corner,

I grab my purse and fly down the stairs,

Past the undusted chandelier and

The dishwasher that clicks on the heavy duty cycle.

I have to pull hard on the double-front doors, and

A flash of self-loathing slices through my body,

A reminder that I want to do this.

Jacey asks anyway.

“You sure about this?”

She traces the path of the Escalade

Though we aren’t going nearly as far.

“I held hands with Trevor Youngblood,” I tell her,

“He said he wants to sleep with me.

He told me you said he had no chance.”

“You held his hand?”

Jacey doesn’t answer for a minute,

Only chews her bottom lip.

“I didn’t think he had a chance…”

I swear the heat from his fingers still seeps between mine,

Like the remembered warmth of a campfire.

“It was a sort-of hand-hold,” I say.

“He took my hand and led me to this terrace

I didn’t even know existed.

We looked at stars, and

He said he missed me.”

Jacey tosses me a worried look.

“Did he say anything else?

Try anything?”

I shake my head,

Somehow feeling even more guilty for the hand-holding

Now that someone else knows.

Still, it feels good to talk it out,

The way I should’ve been able to do with

Mom.

“Well, then, how did the sleeping-with-you thing come up?”

Jacey turns into the tattoo parlor parking lot,

Parks, and

Kills the engine.

I close my eyes as if that will drown out the hateful things

I said to my mother.

“I sort of told my mom I was sleeping with Harris, and

Trevor overheard—you know he’s not even supposed to be there on my weekends?—and

He asked me about it.”

Since Jacey isn’t driving, she turns toward me,

Her brown eyes wide and curious.

“And? Are you?”

I shake my head again.

“You know I’m not into Harris like that.”

“You sure kiss him a lot for someone who’s not into him like that.”

“Kissing is different,” I say,

“It’s harmless. Everyone kisses. It’s no big deal.”

Jacey cocks her head to the side as if to say,

Yeah, right.

“It’s true,” I insist. “The value of a kiss has significantly decreased.

Just watch
The Bachelor
.”

I remember a time when I believed a kiss meant something.

When the joining of mouths wasn’t trivial,

Wasn’t just something that happened at the end of every date,

With every boy.

I used to think a kiss meant

Trust,

Loyalty, and

Love.

I remember a time when kissing was mysterious,

Fantastical almost.

I imagined what kissing a boy would be like, and

It always happened with someone who looked at me like I owned the stars, or

At least his heart.

He might whisper something to me to make me laugh, or

He might cup my face in his wanting hands, or

He might say my name with so much need our only option was to taste each other.

My first kiss had been with Trevor Youngblood, and

He’d done all that.

He’d created the standard that all my future kisses would be compared to, and

Since I’d only kissed Harris after him,

Harris had definitely lacked the heat, and

Passion, and

Love

That Trevor’s kiss had given me.

After that, I paid more attention to how other people kissed.

How my parents pecked in the morning,

Not a true melding of mouths, but

A quick gesture.

I witnessed the stoner girl make out with her boyfriend

Across the hall, and

Their movement was wild desperation and groping hands.

I watched Jacey kiss her Homecoming date goodnight, and

It was chaste but soft,

With the leaning of bodies and the flutter of hands.

Mason Burns is now her boyfriend, and

He still looks at her with constellations in his eyes, and

Like he’s not sure where he’s allowed to touch.

But no one kisses the way Trevor and I had,

Like we needed the other to breathe,

Like the only thing that mattered was exploring each other,

Like everything could crash,

Burn,

Die around us, and

We’d be okay, because

I was his, and

He belonged to me.

“YOU HATE
THE BACHELOR
,”

Jacey brings me out of my kissing-Trevor memories, and

Reminds me what we’re doing here

Parked outside Happy Valley Tattoo.

“I know,” I say,

“But that doesn’t mean kissing means something these days.”

I release my seat belt and slide from her car.

“It does,” she insists,

“And you know it.”

She takes a few steps around the car and meets me at the entrance.

“If you don’t like Harris,

You should stop kissing him.”

“I like kissing him.” I silence the part about how the kissing makes everything

I don’t want to think about

Go away.

I move to pass her, but

Jacey puts her arm on mine.

“But you don’t like
him
.”

She’s sort of asking, and

Sort of not.

I shake my head.

“No, I don’t really like him.”

It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud, and

Jacey’s next words are in my head before she says them.

“You should break up with him then.

It’s not fair to use him like that.”

I nod.

“After we ink, okay?

I’ll call him after we ink.”

“YOU SURE?”

The tattoo artist appraises my bared foot.

“It’s gonna hurt real bad.”

“It’s not my first one,” I defend,

Showing him my other foot.

I have a pencil-thin line around my pinky toe, and

Another around my ring toe.

He shrugs as if to say,

Your call
, and

Gets his instruments ready.

I band my skin to remind myself

Of the mistakes I’ve made that I can’t repeat.

One: Watching my mother and Darren kiss

In that needful,

Careful,

Bone-melting way that suggested they craved each other.

I’d never seen my mom kiss Dad like that.

I kept the secret for far too long, and

Whenever I look at my pinky toe and see that line,

I remind myself that truth is the great equalizer.

Two: Breaking up with Trevor

Without an explanation,

A discussion, or

Anything.

After I’d done that, I felt like

I needed to plunge my own hand into my chest

Just to make sure my heart was still there,

Beating.

When I look at my ring toe,

With it’s black line of permanent ink,

I remind myself that sometimes I can’t have everything I want.

“WHAT’S THIS ONE FOR?”

Jacey asks, knowing I don’t ink myself for pleasure, and

That if my mother knew,

She’d freak out and have me sent for laser removal.

I’m careful around her,

Only wearing close-toed shoes or

Toe rings.

It helps that I only see her twice a month

For about ten minutes, and

That the lines are so thin and so far from her appraising gaze.

“Cheating,” I say.

“I am not a cheater.”

What I mean is:

I am not my mother.

I don’t know if Jacey hears that or not.

It doesn’t matter.

Every time I look at my left pinky toe,

I’ll remember.

“It wouldn’t be cheating if you broke up with Harris,” Jacey says,

Closing her eyes as the artist brings the needle closer to my foot.

She’s right, and

I close my eyes too.

I hate needles

Just like Jacey does.

But I need this reminder.

Every zing of pain tells me

Not to get too close to Trevor,

Not to keep dating Harris,

Not to be like my no-good-adulterous mom.

“HE’S HERE,”

Jacey says, her eyes suddenly fearful.

“Do you need me to stay?”

“It’s Harris,” I say,

“He’s not going to hurt me.”

Jacey purses her lips and looks over my shoulder to Harris’s car

As if she’s not sure.

We’re still sitting in the tattoo parlor parking lot.

I’ve called Harris to take me to lunch, and

My toes throb as I move my foot

Though I have them bandaged and protected in two socks and a firm sneaker.

“Call me later,” she says.

“I want to know how it goes.”

I agree and switch from her dirty excuse for a car

To Harris’s immaculate vehicle without limping.

Harris doesn’t know about the tattoos, and

I don’t want to tell him.

“Hey,” he says, leaning over the center console for a kiss.

“Hey,” I respond, pretending not to see him as I reach for my seatbelt.

“Where to?” he asks,

Recovering quickly from my rejection and

Throwing the car in reverse.

I think of my right pinky toe,

The one banded for truth.

“Harris,” I start, my voice catching on his name.

“I don’t think we should see each other any more.”

“WHY?”

Of course Harris wants to know, and

He deserves an answer.

I can’t give him the real reason, but

Only a watered-down version of it.

He’s smart,

Funny,

Kind,

Dedicated.

He doesn’t make me talk when I don’t want to, and

He knows exactly what to do to make me smile.

He’s polished,

The kind of boy who’s easy to bring home to my dad,

With hair that’s not too long, or

Too greasy, or

Even overstyled.

His teeth are white, and

His clothes smell like a mountain stream, and

He’s tall, dark, and handsome.

I am an idiot
, I tell myself, but

When I look at Harris,

All I see is that

He’s not Trevor.

“I LOVE YOU,”

He says, his voice tight with anger.

“I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

I study my hands in my lap

While Harris pulls over to the side of the road,

Waiting for me to explain.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say,

“It’s me. I’m just not into you the way you’re into me, and

It’s not fair.

I mean, it’s not fair
to you
for me to keep leading you on

When this isn’t going to go anywhere.”

His breath explodes out of his body, and

He rakes his fingers through his hair

Looking out his window.

“I said it too soon, didn’t I?”

He slams a palm against the steering wheel,

Startling me,

Making me question if I should’ve sent Jacey away.

“Said what?”

I ask, trying to keep my voice low and timid.

“You know what.

I’m sorry, Olivia, okay?

I won’t say it again.”

His jaw tightens,

His eyes seem wild.

I need to calm him down, and

I only have one idea: Talking.

“That’s not it,” I say,

“But it did make it clear to me that you feel way more strongly about us

Than I do.”

I put two fingers on his forearm,

Drawing his attention to my face.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.

And this—” I gesture between us— “Is not fair to you.

I don’t just want a make-out partner.”

A glint of hope enters his eyes

Just for a moment, but

I see it.

If I had my camera, I would’ve captured it with a high-speed flash and

An eighty millimeter lens.

“I’d be your make-out partner,” he says,

Real soft,

His eyes dropping to his lap.

I shake my head. “I can’t.

Honest, Harris, you’re a great guy.

You’re just…”

I don’t know how to finish that sentence.

“Stop,” Harris says,

Saving me from myself.

“I know you have this honesty pact thing with yourself, but

Just…don’t.”

The silence in the car becomes charged,

Fueled by the frustration in Harris’s voice, and

The anger in his eyes.

“Will you take me back to my mom’s?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer, but

The tires spin in the gravel,

Like he can’t get rid of me

Fast enough.

“WHORE!”

Harris screams from the end of the Youngblood’s driveway,

Causing me to turn back to his car.

The window is rolled down,

His middle finger is extended, and

He looks unhinged.

He lingers,

Like he expects me to run forward,

To apologize.

I stay rooted to the spot,

Unable and unwilling to move.

Harris finally peels away,

His voice carrying on the wind.

I hear the insults, and

I can’t stop the rush of guilt.

“I DID THE RIGHT THING,”

I tell myself for the tenth time

In as many minutes.

I did not cheat on Harris,

I didn’t lead him on,

I didn’t deserve his name-calling, because,

“I did the right thing.”

“DISASTROUS,”

I repeat to Jacey from the safety of my bedroom.

No one’s here, and I don’t expect them to return for a few more hours,

But I feel safer inside my room, with the

BOOK: Something About Love: A YA contemporary romance in verse
3.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Deep Roots by Beth Cato
Summer Lies by Bernhard Schlink
Deadly Reunion by June Shaw
Zika by Donald G. McNeil
Siete días de Julio by Jordi Sierra i Fabra
What Would Mr. Darcy Do? by Abigail Reynolds
BindMeTight by Nell Henderson, Unknown
The Scalp Hunters by Reid, Mayne
War in Heaven by Gavin Smith