“Hey, honey,” my mom greets me as I walk into our home. I can hear my dad in the kitchen as he closes the fridge door.
“Hey, Mom. What’s up?” This is weird. They never really talk to me when they get back from their trips. Usually, they catch up with Dylan when they get home and I just make my presence known by breathing.
“You just missed Patty and Gerald. They had some business they had to tend to, but Pamela insisted on staying to catch up with you,” my mother explains, sounding a bit too excited. As I approach the kitchen, I could see the back of a girl, sitting on a high stool by the kitchen island. “Well, your dad and I will leave you two to it.”
My mom walks off, grabbing my dad with her upstairs.
“Okay, Mom…” I mutter in annoyance, and the girl hears me.
She turns around and her flaming red curls bounce along the curve of her back, ending between her shoulder blades. Dressed in a black skirt short enough to show off her legs, but long enough not to catch my mom’s attention, she adjusts her short black cardigan, accentuating her breasts, which are only tucked halfway under her tight red tank top. She looks entirely different from the last time I saw her. She’s… grown.
Normally, an outfit like this would result in a longer stare from my part, but now, all it does is make me recall the outfit Lane wore last Sunday. She looked like an angel in that pretty little white skirt, and I distinctly remember the way the wind blew her hair out of her face as she opened the door to see me. The fact that she cared about me at all was a damn miracle. Then I remember our kiss.
I’ve never kissed anyone that way before.
It was ragged and sexy and I don’t think I’ll ever let go of that feeling when she was finally in my arms, when I touched her shoulder, when I lifted her up. We were skin to skin and that single moment with her was enough for a lifetime.
But I want more.
“Silas?” I snap out of my thoughts as she calls me again, and I realize that Pamela had seen my face as I thought about Lane.
Did I look like a pervert? I bet I did.
“Hey, Pam,” I mumble as she wraps her arms around my neck. “How’ve you been?”
“Oh, I’ve been fine,” she says as she pulls back, still resting her hands on both of my arms. “It’s just the same old stuff, you know. Gemma’s moved out so it’s a little different.”
“Yeah,” I agree, stepping away to approach the fridge. I catch her look of disappointment as her hands drop to her sides, hurt by my lack of response to her touch. I’m glad. I don’t need this distraction right now. “I know what you mean. Dylan’s gone, too.”
“And with your parents gone all the time,” she hints with a smirk, “I guess you have this big house all to yourself.”
I don’t answer as I pull out a carton of orange juice to pour into a clean glass on the counter. I turn to face her with a composed face, knowing she will take any reaction of mine as a spark of interest.
“Ever feel lonely?” She tries to sound seductive, but it just sounds like bad porn moans to me. Not that I watch that much porn. Not anymore.
“No, I’m fine here. I like the peace.” I chug the entire glass of orange juice, and I could feel her eyes on me. She flutters her eyelashes a bit too frequently, and her green eyes remind of a time when we were a bit younger, when she gave me my first kiss. It wasn’t anything romantic. She got dared by a friend and I was caught off guard.
Although, if I had a choice, I wish Lane was my first kiss. And hopefully first other things…
Suddenly, my phone rings with a text from an unfamiliar number.
This is Damon. Go to Tammy’s.
How did he get my number? The fact that he’s there with her and I’m not brings my senses to flames, but I try to get a hold of myself in front of Pam. I look up from my phone to see a curious look in her face.
“I’m so sorry, Pam, but something’s come up-”
“Is something wrong?” She gives me a concerned look.
“I have to go-”
“Should I come with? I can help.”
This girl needs to stop interrupting me.
“Listen,” I say as I come up to her and hold her shoulders so that she understands how serious I am. “I appreciate your offer, but I’m sure my girlfriend wouldn’t like me showing up with another girl.”
I feel her shoulders slump under my hold, though my touch is still making her blush. Under the bits of freckles, a rosy color pops on her cheeks. Cute.
I walk off, leaving her in my silent home.
“What happened,” I ask Damon as he walks out of her home. Out on the front, a bucket sits with red water in it and a few towels hanging from it.
“Someone painted ‘BITCH’ on her window, and I don’t want to leave her alone, but I have to go.” He rakes his fingers through his hair and even I have to admit he’s a good looking guy. Why did Lane even choose me?
“Who do you think it was? And why are you here?” I can’t help but sound jealous. It doesn’t make sense to be jealous, after he already decided to step away. Yet, I feel uncomfortable with his presence in her life. It’s irrational, this greed.
“I needed some tutoring, and Tammy says she has an idea of who it might be. I took a guess and got it wrong.” He shrugs and walks to his truck before turning back to yell, “Take care of her!”
I know, Dickface. I hate that he’s here, even though I know he’s a good guy.
I walk up to her door and knock, but I hear her yell for me to come in. Upon entering, I am hit with the warm air of food, a familiar smell. Something that I’ve had before. I gasp loudly.
“Is that what I think it is?” I can hear Lane as she washes a frying pan and puts it into the dishwasher. I look over at the counter to see two bowls of rice with omelettes on them. I glance back at her as she closes the dishwasher full of clean dishes that she had just washed. I give her a puzzled look.
“In this home, we wash dishes by hand, no matter how cheap they are. I notice a smaller drying rack by the sink, where many plastic cups sit upside down. Some of them, I recognized as used cups from a nearby coffeeshop.
“Did you make that for me?” I point at the bowls on the counter. I haven’t eaten and I feel my stomach growl under me. She laughs at the resulting sound and hands me one of the bowls, spoon already jabbed through the omelette and standing up in the center.
“So that’s what you’ve been doing since you got home from school, cleaning the paint off your window?” I take a huge spoonful of food and stuff my mouth.
She looks at me, amused, and looks down at her food. “Yeah. You?” She takes spoonful, about as big as mine, and shoves it in her mouth. I widen my eyes when I see that she can actually close her mouth around all that food.
“I got home and talked to an old friend,” I tell her as I continue eating.
“Oh. Cool.” She is focused on eating, but I can’t help but feel a sting from the lack of conversation. Doesn’t she want to know who the friend was? Of course, she wouldn’t know that it was Pamela, the girl groomed to be the future Mrs. Silas. And of course, she wouldn’t know how flirty the girl can be. Still, it bothered me to not have an opening to tell her everything so that it’s all out in the open.
“Her name is Pamela.” I mutter with disappointment, only to see her freeze in the middle of getting another spoonful. She holds onto her spoon of food, but leaves it in the bowl. She’s clearly thinking of a way to ask without sounding jealous. I can’t help but stretch a smug smile on my face.
After the moment passed, she continues to finish her food and I do the same. About ten minutes later, we’re hanging out in her room. As we lie side by side on her bed, facing each other, I notice her tight tank top, the one she had worn under her sweatshirt this morning. She’s now in pajama shorts, which hang tightly to her hips and make me anxious. How can I control myself around her?
She asks me to tell her about what I had to do to get Natasha caught, so I told her everything, from Jake and Kimberly to planting the drugs. She listens with her eyebrows meeting in the center, and it makes me smile. Then, it was silent again, which was nice, compared to the loud setting with the guys.
“Who’s Pam?” Her voice is tiny, like she’s afraid to ask. Of course, she is. I’m afraid to answer.
“She’s…” I sigh. “She’s someone my parents want me to date and probably marry in the future.”
“That’s ridiculous. Do they know what year it is?”
“Yes,” I say with low lids, “but they’re friends with her parents and they’re all a bit classist.”
“Oh, great. I certainly look forward to dealing with that,” she responds with thick sarcasm.
My heart skips a beat and my stomach flips, hearing that she plans to face my parents in the future. There’s a future to this and she’s just admitted to it. All this time, I’ve felt like I’ve made it all in my head, like she just wasn’t thinking it through when she kissed me or when she chose me over Damon. I scoot closer to her, kissing her nose before pulling back a bit.
“What was that for,” she asks with a blushing smile.
“I’ve told you before, it’s only you,” I speak softly as I reach for her hand to hold, “You’re it.”
Despite her blush, she still speaks in words drenched with sarcasm, “Oh, no. What would your makeout partner say if she hears you’ve been calling someone else your it girl?” She lays her other hand on her chest, acting baffled. I purse my lips.
“Yeah, about that,” I start sheepishly, “I tried to tell Mrs. Francis that I couldn’t partner up with Catherine because I’m just going to bring her grade down with my laziness. She wouldn’t budge.”
She doesn’t respond as she studies my face.
“What?” I hope I don’t have rice on my face.
“Nothing,” she says as she gets up. I try to do the same but she presses her hand flat on my chest to push me down. She positions her knees on either side of my hips and she sits flat on my thighs. Her hair falls on one side of her shoulders, the side she was just lying on. She bends down so that our faces are inches away from each other. I feel her hair tickling my arm, but I can’t move. She’s so beautiful.
She smiles before our lips meet, and I reach my hand up to hold her face, my fingers raking through her hair. I run my other hand along her thigh, which is bare and smooth. Her hand playfully runs a finger down along my happy trail and I let out a grunt, an almost moan. I breathe in her scent, feeling ecstatic. Our lips move in harmony and I forget about everything else in the world, because truthfully, nothing seems to matter with her here.
I nibble on her neck as she moves closer, moaning, and I notice she’s so close I could feel her breasts pressed against my chest. The thought sends me into blinding passion, leaving me with more desire than I’ve ever had for anyone else. Our lips meet again and I notice that she’s thrusting her hips against the center of mine and this time, I moan along with her between kisses. I move my hand from her thigh to the curve of her back, pressing her even closer to me. We kiss and kiss until we run out of air, and even then, we continue kissing.
Finally, she pulls herself back up, straightening her back. She’s breathing heavily, and I gaze down at her chest, which expands in intervals due to her panting. She sends a sexy smile my way, and I am taken aback by this side of her.
“You’re amazing,” I breathe without thinking. She smiles shyly, back to her normal self, and lies down, resting her head on my chest.
She notices the hill where the zippers of my jeans sit, and pokes it playfully. I lift my head to look down at what she’s doing, and tell her, “Funsize Silas would appreciate it if you don’t tease him. He’s very brazen around girls he loves.”
She freezes, and I realize what I had just said.
Great. First time I use the L word and it’s a weird thing about my boner.
“Did you just tell me that your penis loves me?” Her voice is quiet and I almost didn’t hear her.
“Yes. He and I are in agreement on that.”
She tightens her arm around my waist as she tilts her head up to look at me while still resting her cheek on my chest. I look down at her, very aware that she might see my double chin. “So tell me,” she starts facetiously, “who are these other girls that Funsize Silas loves?”
“No one,” I respond as I tuck a loose hair of hers behind her ear, “I told you already. For me and Mini-me, it’s just you and it’ll only ever be you.”
She closes her eyes and lean in closer to me, resting blissfully in my arms.
The next morning, I get to school later than I anticipate. When I finally arrive at Mrs. Francis’s class, I sit in my usual seat behind Lane, noticing a familiar figure speaking to our teacher in the front. She had her back to the class so I didn’t recognize her at first, but as she turns around, I hold my breath from astonishment.
“Hey Silas!” She bounces on her feet, making other things bounce on her body. Surely, all the guys in class noticed. The whole class heard her greet me.
“Mr. Cravens, since Pam is new, I’ve decided to add her into your presentation group. Undoubtedly, an extra mind would help you with what you lack.”
I am speechless. I turn to Lane, whose back faces me, but I manage to see her ears actually turn red. Deep red. Angry red.