I got into the back seat of the car, and something shifted inside of me. The person I’d been my whole life evaporated right out of my body. I was no longer Emili Jones, the plain and predictable girl who could always be counted on to do the sane thing.
Now I was Emili, the girl willing to get in a car with a guy who wasn’t her boyfriend. Emili, the girl who hoped her boyfriend wouldn’t find her missing at the game.
Lance climbed in behind me. I wasn’t stupid — I could see he had a major crush on Farah. But against his brother, he didn’t have much of a chance. Oh, he could compete in the looks department, definitely. But the rest of it: age, possessions, his own car, a driver’s license. No, not even a little.
Lance leaned toward me, his face a mere inch away. I could feel the sweat forming like dew on my upper lip. My eyes opened wide.
“Cecily, anyone ever tell you how pretty you are?” Our noses touched. All I could do was shake my head. His breath cascaded over my face, my mouth. He leaned in closer and his lips brushed mine. So soft, so warm. I stared into his eyes in the shadows of the back seat. I couldn’t move. He kissed me again, a little longer this time. Then he rested back on his side of the seat and let out a soft laugh.
I caught Farah’s glance in the rearview mirror. She gave me a gleeful smile.
My hand went to my mouth. I tried to slow my breathing. Lance had kissed me. Twice. It was completely different from Marc’s kiss. Wonderfully different. My entire body tingled and a mixture of joy and fear trembled deep in my stomach. The shaking spread till I was sure Lance would feel it. I glanced over at his dark profile outlined against the car window.
If nothing else ever happened for the rest of my high school years, this would be enough.
He’d kissed me. I couldn’t believe it. Me, Emili Jones. I tried to relax as Pete started the car and we took off. I’d no idea where we were going. I wanted to ask, but I thought it wouldn’t be cool so I remained silent and kept my eyes straight ahead. Farah’s body was draped over Pete’s until I wondered how he could drive.
“Where are we headed?” Farah asked.
“You wanted to see where I live, right?”
Farah nodded in the dark. She snuggled even closer to him if that were possible.
I finally dared to look again at Lance’s face. In the fleeting light from the street lamps, I saw it was rigid. He was mad, and I knew it had to do with Farah. My heart stalled. I wasn’t enough for him. He couldn’t compete with his brother, and I couldn’t compete with Farah. And it was Farah he wanted. Did he regret kissing me already?
We headed down a shadowy side street. I wasn’t sure which one, but guessed it didn’t matter at that point.
“Here we are,” Pete said, stopping the car. “C’mon, let’s go in.”
We were in front of a two-story brick building. There were maybe four apartments, but I couldn’t be sure. The small gravel parking lot in front of the building was empty. There were no lights on in any of the apartments. On the upper walkway, one lone light bulb buzzed like a bug zapper. The whole place felt eerie, deserted.
“I’m below,” Pete said.
I must have appeared ridiculous, all tight and frozen. My body didn’t want to move. My legs had gone numb. What would my mom say if she knew where I was? What would Marc think? Would anyone find out I’d left the game?
I had to be delusional. Of course someone would know I left the game. I’d done nothing to hide it. Jeannie’s face crossed my mind. She had a big mouth, and I’d never known her to keep it shut.
“Come on, Cecily.” Lance pulled gently on my arm. “Let’s go inside.”
My legs began to work and I followed him. The smell of pine air freshener was heavy as we walked into Pete’s apartment. In my mind, I saw myself entering Hansel and Gretel’s forest heading straight for the witch’s candy trap. Pete switched on a lamp. Its feeble light flickered, making tall shadows across the floor. The living room was small, scrunched. One shabby plaid loveseat was shoved up against a pale gray wall. Next to it was a flat screen TV with a pile of remotes littering the floor. Under the window was a round table with two rickety-looking chairs shoved underneath. A computer sat on the table, its power light blinking.
The tiniest kitchen I’d ever seen was at the opposite end of the room. There was a microwave, a fridge that wouldn’t reach a short person’s knees, and a sink. Random posters of motorcycles scattered the walls.
Everything was clean and straightened as if Pete knew he’d be having company. Two doors led off the living room.
“The bathroom.” Pete pointed. He nodded toward the other door. “And the bedroom.”
Farah’s eyebrows rose. She twirled in the middle of the room. “This is a great apartment. Show me the bedroom.”
Was she going to desert me? Meaning I’d be out here alone with Lance? This was miles out of my comfort zone. My hands balled into fists. How had I let Farah drag me into one of her love nests?
“Farah…” I started.
“The bedroom?” Farah asked, leaning into Pete.
He laughed. “Come on then.” He opened the door, and they went through. Farah closed it behind her with a definite click.
I thought I heard Lance mumble, “Jerk,” under his breath, but I couldn’t be sure. He studied me and gestured toward the loveseat. “C’mon Cecily, let’s sit.”
I didn’t want to sit, didn’t even want to be there. This was beyond awkward. I knelt on the rug by the pile of remotes and began organizing them by size, placing them in front of me like a puzzle.
“What are you doing?” Lance asked. My hand froze above the remotes. I’d heard that tone before — what he truly meant was, “What kind of weirdo are you?”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“C’mon. Leave them.” His voice was soft, coaxing.
I looked up. His eyes were incredible — he could be a wizard or something. I gave him my hand and he pulled me to him.
“Let’s sit,” he said again.
He led me to the loveseat and we sat. “No need to waste a good evening.” His voice was suggestive, and he sidled up to me. “They’re obviously busy in there.”
I tipped my head toward the closed bedroom door. “My friend, Farah,” I said.
“My brother, Pete,” he answered. His face tightened for a moment, but then he shook it off.
“Want to watch TV?” I asked, chewing the inside of my lip. Brilliant.
“Cecily, we can surely come up with something better.”
He leaned in and kissed me. I tensed.
“Hey.” He was whispering now, his tone amused. “Would you loosen up? I’m not going to bite you.”
I coughed nervously. “I know.” I hardly got the words out when he kissed me again. I wished I could say I pushed him away. I should have, and I intended to. At least for the first couple of minutes. But his mouth on mine felt so delicious I did nothing but kiss him back — winding my arms around him.
So this is what the girls in the bathroom meant. It was worth gushing about.
I thought back to my kisses with Marc. I hadn’t truly kissed him at all. I hadn’t even given him a chance. If we’d kissed like this… I stiffened.
I was a total jerk.
“Cis, what’s wrong? You’ve gone all tense again.”
I pushed against him. “I need to leave. I honestly need to leave now.”
“An attack of conscience?” He laughed softly. “It’s okay, Cis, I won’t tell a soul. I like you. You can trust me.”
He moved in to kiss me again, but I pulled back and stood up. My legs wobbled, and for a panicked moment I thought I might fall right on top of him.
“Can your brother take me home?” I detested the pleading tone in my voice, but I had a burning desire to talk to Marc, to make this right somehow.
“Maybe, but why not stay?”
Confusion clouded my brain. What should I do? This thing with Lance couldn’t, shouldn’t go any further. I stared again at the bedroom door.
Lance grabbed my hand and pulled me back down. I landed right on top of him. He breathed heavily and circled my waist with his arm, holding me tight. He nuzzled into my neck, kissing my shoulders under my T-shirt. Then his lips found mine.
Time stopped and I melted into him.
The computer on the table buzzed, breaking the spell.
What am I doing?
I scrambled up. “I have to go.”
“Pete’s occupied. Stay longer — just a few more minutes.”
I shook my head and went to the bedroom door and knocked. “Farah, let’s go,” I called through. “It’s getting late…”
I heard some scuffling and the door opened. It was Farah. Her cheeks were flushed and her fierce red hair fell messily across her face. Her eyes were shooting fire. “What do you mean late? The evening’s hardly started.”
Then she seemed to truly look at me. Her face softened and she sighed. “Oh, all right, Emili, we can go. You look pathetic. Pete, can you take us to Emili’s house?”
It took a minute before Pete appeared at the door. He was straightening his shirt. “You got it, babe. But I want a rematch.”
“Goes without saying,” answered Farah.
I didn’t utter a word on the way home. My brain screamed, proclaiming me a cheat and a liar. It was relentless. My insides hurt, like sandpaper had taken up residence. I could feel Lance’s eyes boring into me, but I kept mine straight ahead.
“Wait,” I cried as we neared my house. “Just let us off here. Don’t take us all the way.”
“Come on, Emili, why not?” Farah asked.
“Mrs. Sander doesn’t drive a Mustang.”
“You think your parents are glued to the window? You think they care what kind of car lets you off?” Farah asked.
Lance laughed.
“No problem, Emili,” Pete said. “I can drop you guys here.”
He pulled over to the curb, and I practically tripped crawling out of the car.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. Was I actually thanking him for letting me prove I was disloyal?
Farah opened the car door and got out. She tugged on her skirt with one hand then ducked halfway back into the front seat.
“Pete, great evening — too short, but great.” She twisted around, shot me a pointed look, then leaned back into the car to smother Pete with a long kiss.
Finally, she came up for air. “I’m holding you to a rematch.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he replied.
Farah shut the door, and the car peeled off. I could see Lance looking at us through the back window. We started down the block, Farah following me with huge overblown moans.
“Honestly, Emili, you’re such a party-pooper. We were having a great time.”
I stopped and glared at her. She raised her eyebrows, her eyes wide. “Just saying,” she said.
We got home and went inside. No one was in the living room. “Mom, we’re back,” I called. I didn’t see her, but I knew she’d hear me. I shoved Farah down the hall into my bedroom.
Farah plopped on the bed. “Pete is absolutely better than I ever dreamed. We were having such a great time until you…”
“I know,” I said sharply. “I’m the poop who ruined your evening.” I sat down on the bed. “Did you…”
Farah peered at me and rolled her eyes. “It’s rude to kiss and tell. But Pete’s not a total fool. He knows he’s older than me and it wouldn’t be smart.”
Why did I get the feeling she was reciting a line instead of telling the truth?
She gazed off into space. “But oh, the preliminaries.”
“Preliminaries? Are you kidding me? That’s what you’re calling them?”
“Oh grow up,” she said. “You’re so busy judging every single thing in this universe you can’t enjoy anything.”
I sat there, silent.
“Well, it’s true Emili,” she continued. “I’ve been trying for months to get you to shake it off and have some fun in life.” She leaned back on her elbows. “Why do I even bother?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
She sat up and tugged on my sleeve. “But you have to admit, it was fun wasn’t it? I know you like Lance.”
Her face radiated playful eagerness, and I couldn’t help smiling. “I don’t want to like him. I have a boyfriend.”
“Yes, yes, I know. The perfect and proper Marc Rounder.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled. “Marc’s nice; even you have to admit it.”
“I never said he wasn’t nice. He’s just not, well, interesting. He’s boring, Emili. I’ve said it a million times, and it’s true.”
“Maybe a little, but not as bad as you make it out to be. He’s nice and doesn’t deserve to be treated this way.”
“Good grief, Emili, can’t you have any fun at all?”
I grabbed the over-sized stuffed bear off my pillow and hugged it. “The thing is, Farah, I’ve always wanted a guy like Lance — steamy and popular, and oh, he’s gorgeous, isn’t he? I never dreamed I’d actually have a chance with him. I can’t help it, I like him. He makes me feel… uh, I can’t put it into words.”
“Then why not just go with it?”
I put my cheek on the bear’s soft fur.
Farah scooted closer. “Were you making out while I was with Pete?”
I walked to the desk, pushed her suitcase aside, and began tinkering with my jewelry box. “We kissed. I wouldn’t call it making out.”
“Well, I would.” She laughed. “I think you make a delightful couple.”
I swirled around. “We’re not a couple. I’m already a couple with Marc. And I need to talk to him.”
“Of course you do.” Farah stood and pulled off her skirt and top, dropping them in a heap on the floor. Then she kicked off her shoes and crawled into my bed, closing her eyes.
For once, I didn’t straighten up her mess. I simply climbed into my sweats and shoved her over. There wasn’t room for the both of us, but I squeezed in. I laid there for a long time with my eyes wide open before falling asleep.
****
The next morning, I didn’t wake up until ten-fifteen. I stretched my arms over my head. How could I have slept so long? I figured I’d be awake all night stewing.
I glanced at Farah who was still asleep. Her mouth was slightly open, and I could hear her deep breathing. She was an inch away from snoring. I wriggled out of bed and pulled on my slippers. Then I retrieved my phone from my purse and with a stomach full of dread, turned it on.
Six texts from Marc.
Oh, please don’t let him know.
I opened the first text. Hey Emili, I’m missing you. Did you come to the game? No one I know texts with full-out spelling except Marc. I shook my head in amusement. Farah called Marc perfect, and maybe he was. It did carry a certain charm.
I read through the next five messages. He told me he’d gone to the game after all. There was no mention of seeing me leave. My breath gushed out with relief.
I felt like sleaze. I knew I’d have to break up with him because it was the right thing to do. But Marc liked me, and this wasn’t going to be easy. One thing was for sure — I had to get to him before he heard it from someone else. And big-mouth Jeannie was ever ready to pounce, especially if it was juicy news.
On Monday, I’d break up with him when we were face to face. I owed him that much at least. I texted him saying I’d see him Monday. I knew he wouldn’t question me. He’d just dive back into his homework.
Farah woke up at eleven and went home at noon. I wasn’t sorry to see her go. In fact, I was relieved and I didn’t hide it too well, either.
Well, add it to my sins.
****
On Monday morning, I was hopeful. No fall-out so far. Maybe I didn’t need to break up with Marc.
I’d thought about it all day Sunday. I knew Lance was completely out of my league, so it couldn’t go anywhere. Besides, Farah had practically forced me into his arms or him into mine. I wasn’t sure which. He’d never have come after me if she wouldn’t have paired off with Pete.
It could be like it never happened.
I walked into school looking for Marc. As always, he was leaning nonchalantly against the outer office wall waiting for me.
“Mmm, you smell nice. New perfume, right? What’s this one?”
“Don’t you remember? It’s the rose and cinnamon blend.”
“Whatever it is, it smells great. Hey, I missed you.” He tugged lightly on my sleeve. “I missed our Friday night date, and I was busy studying the whole weekend.”
“I missed you, too.” I giggled, my spirits rising. I actually had missed him.
“You’re in a good mood.” He pushed me playfully on the back, guiding me to my locker. “Let’s unload your stuff. How’d you do on the history assignment?”
I paused. “Didn’t quite finish it.” I saw his look of disbelief. “Don’t worry, I have study hall before class, I’ll get it done.”
“I know.” He gazed at me with pride. A sudden cramp knotted my stomach, and Lance’s slow smile filled my mind. I shook my head. No, I’d stick with my new plan — Lance never happened and never could happen.
And then, there he was, right in front of me. He drifted over as if Marc was nowhere in sight.
“Hey, Cecily, how was your weekend?” His voice was soft and his eyes searched mine.
I nearly choked.
“Cecily?” Marc questioned. “She’s Emili.”
“My mistake,” Lance said and chuckled. He slowly ran his finger down my arm, then turned and sauntered off. His touch left a burning trail and my eyes clung to his back as he walked away.
Marc stiffened and took a step back. I looked at him and cringed when I saw the confusion in his eyes.
“Emili? What gives?”