The Lance Temptation (8 page)

****

The air was brittle when my mom dropped me off. Winter had definitely arrived. I hugged my jacket close and took the library stairs two at a time. My backpack clunked against my back with every step. There wasn't much in it, but I could hardly come to study empty-handed. I stepped inside the lobby area and stayed in position facing the door. According to the huge subway clock on the wall, Lance would arrive in ten minutes. I leaned against a wide Greek-like column and started to count down the time. Ten minutes was too long.

In less than two, he sauntered in. He had on a puffy black parka and a huge grin. “There you are, right on time,” he greeted me. “Ready to go?”

I nodded and we pushed back outside into the biting air. Pete's apartment was a good four blocks from the library. My ears were ice chips by the time we got there, but I refused to put on my hood. Some girls are adorable in hoods. I look like a stuffed chicken — it was not a nice look.

“I'll get this unlocked,” Lance said. He pulled a key ring out of his pocket. It clanked against the door as he unlocked it. “We're in,” he said and flipped on the lamp.

The same plaid loveseat sagged against the main wall. The same table and chairs. Same TV, kitchen, same everything. I rolled my eyes. Had I expected a renovation?

“Go ahead and sit down.” Lance motioned towards the loveseat. “I'll crank the heat up. The furnace in this building is from the Dark Ages, but it still works pretty good.”

I deposited my backpack on the floor and sat down.

“You leaving your coat on?” he asked.

My insides trembled. What'd happened to my bravado? What was I doing here? I had no experience for this. Farah would be totally cool, funny, and charming. I, on the other hand, was a scared dud.

“It's cold.” My words came out like spitballs.

“Won't take long to heat up. The place is small.”

He walked over, standing before me. He'd taken off his coat and his shoulders bulged. I couldn't take my eyes away. No one would ever guess he was sixteen, not with a build like his.

He sat down close and pressed his leg against mine. “You smell like cinnamon.”

“Like it?”

He nuzzled my neck. “What do you think?”

“I'm thinking yes.”

“What do you want to study?” he asked. I jerked back in surprise, and he burst into laughter. “That's what I thought.”

He rubbed my back, sending tremors through me. This was going too fast. I attempted to scoot away a bit, but with his weight against me, moving was difficult. Instead, I started talking. “Where's your brother? Does he know we're here?”

He leaned in and kissed me. “I made sure he's at work, remember? Relax, Cis, we have over an hour till he comes home. Sure you don't want to take your coat off?”

“I'm good,” I answered. I tried to loosen up, reclining into the sofa. I made myself take deep even breaths.

He squeezed my shoulder. “Better.” He bent in for another kiss, light and sweet.

“I saw Farah was back. I bet you were relieved, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Where was she? Did she say?”

I wiggled back upright. “No,” I answered. “The whole thing kind of makes me mad, so let's not talk about it.”

“Why mad?”

“Issues.”

“You're happy though, right?”

“I guess. Yeah, I'm glad she's okay.”

“Is she in trouble? I mean, does Principal Ramos know she skipped? She was skipping, right? Pete didn't know anything about it, and I know he was worried. Why didn't she tell you where she was?”

Well, wasn't he Mr. Chatty all of a sudden. My nostrils flared. I was beginning to feel like my whole life revolved around Farah and her comings and goings.

“I don't want to talk about her.”

Lance's hand whispered over my cheek. “She's okay, right? Nothing wrong?”

“How come you always want to talk about her?”

He flinched. “She's your best friend, isn't she? I thought if anyone would know what's going on, it'd be you.”

“Yeah, a person would think…”

“And you truly don't know? I thought girls chattered non-stop about everything.”

“She's not talking so I don't know any more than you.” The words came out snippier than I intended.

He held up both his hands. “Okay, okay. We won't talk about her.”

“Fine.” The protective feeling for Farah was creeping back, and I did my best to shove it down. My whole body felt tight. I remembered something we used to do in P.E. to relax. We'd lie on gym mats tensing every muscle as tightly as we could, and then starting with our feet, we'd systematically release each one. By the end, we'd be nearly asleep on the gym floor. I wondered if it'd work now.

Lance settled back into the couch and patted his shoulder. “Lay here.”

I leaned my head stiffly on his shoulder. I used to snuggle with my mom all the time when I was a kid. Her shoulder was soft and cushiony, completely different from Lance's. With his muscles, his was like resting on a steel plate. I squirmed and tried to get comfortable.

I could hear the hum of Pete's computer on the table. His microwave flashed twelve o'clock in blue and I wondered what time it actually was. I felt Lance move under me. He twisted and started kissing me again. Warm, tingly sensations moved from my shoulders to my legs. Lance smelled vaguely of the outdoors, and I latched onto him eagerly. My earlier annoyance evaporated into nothing.

His kisses grew hard. My body warmed and melted into his despite the cold air in the room. Whatever time we had wasn't enough.

Then my brain kicked into gear. What would Lance expect me to do? And what was I willing to do? I'd made a decision last year in Health I wasn't going to have sex until I was married. But I'd made the promise when I didn't have a boyfriend or see any chance of ever getting one. Had I meant it?

The tingling sensations stopped. I didn't want to have sex with Lance. It'd be going too far. I hardly knew him, and deep inside I knew I wasn't ready. Maybe I did mean the promise I'd made. Everyone in Health had been urged to think carefully about what we'd do, how far we'd go. The official Bates stance is we must “respect ourselves and keep ourselves safe,” which makes sense no matter what. At the time, I didn't hesitate to make the promise to myself.

What if Lance expected more right here and now? I stiffened. He stopped and put his head up. “What's wrong?”

“Um, nothing, it's…”

He laughed softly. “Well, Farah did say…”

Farah?
Honestly
?
We were back to her? I gave him no chance to finish. I untangled myself, stood up and faced him, hands on my hips.

“You guys have been talking about me?” Deep down inside, I wondered if I was glad for an excuse to stop our physical slide. My body was scaring me, and I didn't trust myself anymore.

“Sometimes.” He studied my face. “We don't sit around and talk about you all the time. Maybe once or twice.”

“What exactly do you say?”

“I don't say anything. Farah just told me you didn't have much experience and you and Marc were boring.” He threw both hands in the air. “She said it, not me.”

Big surprise.
It was bad enough Farah harped to me about it, but to broadcast her judgments to Lance was over the line.

“I see. I'm glad you both have me all figured out. I didn't know you were such experts.”

“Whoa.” He balked. “What's wrong with you tonight? Come on, Cecily, this isn't even worth it.”

“What exactly do you mean? You've done nothing except talk about Farah all night!”

He shrugged. “Only trying to make conversation. You're jumpy and grouchy. I can get this crap at home.” He stood up. “Maybe we'd better go.”

The door to the apartment jangled. Lance and I both froze.

“No way,” Lance said under his breath.

The door opened and Pete came through. When he saw us, he dropped his duffel bag and stared. “What…?”

Lance flew into action. He grabbed my backpack from the floor and tossed it at me. “We were leaving.”

“You better be leaving. This is great, Lance, you never even asked.” The sarcasm dripped from Pete's voice.

“You were busy,” Lance answered. “And you would've said no.”

“You got that right, I would have said no. What were you thinking? Bringing Emili over here to use my apartment for…”

Lance shoved into him, knocking him against the wall. “Shut up!” It was a growl.

I was over the shock enough to run. I tore out through the open door into the frigid air outside. I didn't wait for Lance, I just ran. After a block, my lungs were screaming from cold so I slowed to a walk. What a complete disaster. Lance hadn't even checked with Pete — it was insulting. Not to mention humiliating. To think Pete could've seen us…

What did it matter? The evening was over before Pete came in. Way over. I was sick to my toes of hearing Lance go on about Farah. And that wasn't all — I was scared of how far I might've gone with him.

I began stomping my way back to the library.

It was stupid, but I hoped Lance would catch up to me. I hoped he'd tell me Farah meant nothing to him. I hoped he'd tell me how much he loved me and we could go more slowly and get to know each other better. Then I'd tell him I didn't mean it when I said we should go, that all I wanted was to snuggle and be together.

I put my hand over my mouth. I didn't want the night to end like this. I wanted everything to be smoothed over and for both of us to be happy. All the planning and excitement were down the toilet, and Lance would probably never kiss me again.

I swiped at the tears that trailed down my cheeks… The last thing I wanted to do was cry. Crying would only prove again how innocent I was. Farah and Lance must've had a big laugh talking about boring innocent me. I could imagine how Farah would've gone on and on, mimicking me.

My yearning for Lance morphed into a nasty taste of betrayal. I felt sick.

I got to the corner of 8
^th
and Meridian and plopped down on the curb. The cold from the concrete went right through my jeans and I started to shiver.

In truth, I'd been rude, too. I'd snapped at Lance, and earlier I'd been mean to Farah. I couldn't even think about how I treated Marc. What was the matter with me? The tears increased. Why was I acting like such a jerk?

“Cis?” It was Lance.

I jumped up.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

“I'm okay.”

“Pete still mad?”

“He'll get over it. I'll have a couple bruises, no big deal.”

“So you didn't ask him.”

“He would've said no.”

I sighed. We stood there in the dim streetlight looking at each other. At that moment, we were the only two people on earth. Finally I said, “You followed me.”

“It's dark, and you're a girl walking alone. Give me some credit. I don't want your murder on my hands.”

I chewed the inside of my lip and wiped at my tears. “I'm sorry, Lance. I know I was totally catty.”

“It's okay.”

“I ruined our whole plan.”

He took my arm and we started toward the library. “Pete coming home didn't help.”

I leaned into him as we walked. He'd come after me. He
was
watching out for me. Maybe things weren't as bad as I thought.

It's always nice to hope.