Six
Jace
“You awake?” Soft fingers stroke my cheek, and when I open my eyes, they’re met with a pair of sparkling blue ones.
“I am now.” Yawning, I stretch my arms behind my head, my hands crashing against the back of the tent.
“Do you think Gage will tell anyone?”
“What do you mean?”
He puffs out a long breath, dead-eyeing me. “You know what I mean. You probably sprained the guy’s wrist. You’re not supposed to get in trouble for me anymore, remember?”
“I told you I wouldn’t for the remainder of the school year. Never said anything about after.” Besides, I’d rather get in trouble defending what’s right than for doing something for the wrong reasons. All those assholes deserved more than they got, especially Gage. I regret none of it. Hopefully he learns to keep his hands to himself from here on out. The rude awakening he got last night could possibly prevent him from hurting someone else. Too bad my father never got that. If only he was stopped before going too far during his first offense.
“I knew you’d somehow loophole your way around things.”
“It’s going to be fine. I doubt he’ll say shit, otherwise everyone will know what he did to cause it.”
“I hope you’re right.” He rolls onto his back, looking up at the shadow of branches showing up on the tent’s plastic, light from the sun shining around it.
Resting my hand on his, I squeeze his fingers, giving him a hard smile. “I am. Ready to get out of here?”
“Yeah. Breakfast tacos on the way home?”
“I’ll never say no to tacos or breakfast, especially if you’re paying.”
Huffing out a laugh, he lets go of my hand and sits up, reaching for his bag. “Only because you paid for all the camping gear.” It was my surprise to him when he was stressed over finals. I didn’t want him worrying about more than he already was and knew the sudden gifts would distract him.
“I’m kidding. I don’t expect you to pay me back for that.” Tossing the top of my sleeping bag to the side, I crawl toward my clothes and grab a shirt.
“Then don’t look at it as me paying you back.” He switches his lightning-bug pajama pants for a pair of navy basketball shorts before throwing on a sleeveless gray ribbed shirt. We get older every year but so much stays the same, and I’m worried that when it does change, it’ll take what we have with it. “Just see it as me wanting to take care of you like you do me,” he adds.
After packing our stuff and rolling up our sleeping bags, we crawl out of the tent one by one, the morning light forcing me to shield my eyes. Chirping and laughter surrounds us as we load the car, stickers latching themselves to the edges of my flip-flops. Two people are at the picnic table chowing down on pop tarts and fruit, while everyone else appears to still be sleeping.
“You two heading out?” one of the guys, I think his name is Andy, asks.
“Yup. Something came up at home and we need to get back early,” Nate responds, barely glancing his way, shoving the folded tent on top of his duffel.
“That sucks. We’ll definitely miss you,” Layla says, staring in the direction of Nate only. Of course she only means him. She and I have barely exchanged more than two words. Didn’t matter how many times she came over to our house to study or joined us on our trips downtown to the movies, it was like she was alone with Nate each time, and I felt the exact same as her no matter who else was with us. He’s all I care about. The only one I want to be near.
Nate says bye one last time before joining me in the car. We talk about how we should spend the rest of the summer, and he mentions that we could continue camping in our back yard, in the old tree house we used to sneak away to when neither of us could sleep to read comic books and play card games.
“Do you think that thing could even hold us both anymore?” I glance his way and he keeps his eyes on the road.
“I know it’s been holding you well.” He smiles, giving me a side look.
“What do you mean?” I play dumb, leaning my elbow on the car window.
“Don’t think I don’t see you go out there sometimes. Why do you?”
Sighing, I look toward the moving trees. “Because sometimes I feel trapped inside the house, within all those walls, and too close . . . too close to below ground. So I go somewhere higher, outside, to remind myself I’m free.”
He shoots me a smile, slowing the car as we reach our favorite taqueria. “Then tonight, you can take me high up with you.”
“Okay, but don’t blame me if we crash through the floor.”
He laughs, pulling up into the drive-through. “Good thing Dad has really neglected the grass out there. Should make for some nice cushioning.”
We order way more tacos than we can eat in one sitting, taking the rest home for our parents. The guilt from overeating doesn’t sink in until Nate has to leave me alone to shower. I don’t think about rules as much when he’s around, sometimes not at all, and those rare days are when I feel like all the weight has fallen off me. When I’m with him, it’s okay to laugh too loudly, run too fast, talk too much, and have fun. It’s okay to be whatever I want and say no. Then he leaves, and I’m struck in the chest with a heavy blow of my own fists, needing to punish myself in order to move on. I don’t know any other way.
“Aren’t you going to shower? I can smell the lake on you from here,” Nate teases me from the doorway, dressed in cargo shorts and a teal tank.
“I don’t know. Kind of want to keep the scent on me. It adds to the camping experience.” I wink, standing up from my desk chair, and he tosses a towel at me.
“Go wash the stink off you and I’ll go set everything up.”
“You’re serious about the tree house.”
“I am.” His lips stretch into a smile and he spins around, heading down the hall.
Not wanting to keep him waiting too long, I enter the bathroom and reach for a nail file in one of the drawers. I press the blade into my stomach, creating a small cut and drawing blood. I keep going until the guilt goes away. Once the tightness in my chest loosens enough and I no longer see in the mirror what my dad saw, I undress and hop in the shower, scrubbing my body as soon as my feet touch the tub.
Looking away from the blood flowing away down the drain, I wash my hair and my skin, and once they’re both free of suds, I shut off the water and dry off. Walking into my room in nothing but a towel, I approach my closet and grab a random pair of jeans and a band T-shirt. Nate’s outside, climbing down the ladder with a satisfied grin on his face when I walk out the back door.
“Anything I can do to help?”
He looks back at me smugly. “Nope. Got it all taken care of myself. Wanna come see?”
“Sure,” I say, falling victim to his infectious smile. I follow him up the ladder, the wood only shaking a little when I climb into the tree house after him. Blankets are laid out with pillows on top, and Nate’s laptop is in a corner next to a box of snacks and an ice chest. Flashlights and a radio rest on the other side of the blankets.
“You’ve thought of everything.”
“Yup. And if I forgot anything, it’s only a short walk to the house.”
“I guess that’s one perk to camping in your own back yard.”
“That and the privacy,” he adds. “Ever wonder what it’s like to make out in a tree house?” He nibbles on his bottom lip, sliding closer to me.
My breath catches in my throat as his face inches closer.
“I . . . I didn’t really get to see what kissing you was like earlier,” he whispers. “I mean, we were kind of rushed, and it was very short. I’d like to take my time. Only if you’re okay with it, that is.”
My heart thuds and I nod, stroking his cheek. “It’s not about me being okay, it’s . . . Isn’t it wrong?”
“Did it feel wrong? It’s not like we’re blood related, and no one will even know but us. It’s just a little kissing. Friends do it all the time”
Friends . Man what a total punch in the gut that is. “Nothing ever feels wrong with you,” I breathe out. Maybe this isn’t something I should do, but I really want to, and nothing’s ever called to me more. This isn’t hurting anyone and we both want it. And like he said—and I’ve told myself many times—we aren’t blood related. So why should it be such a big deal?
His eyes brighten and he leans in further, swiping his tongue over his lips. “You can say no if you really don’t want to.”
I run a hand through his hair, smashing my mouth to his. Lips as soft as yesterday, they leave behind a tingling sensation on mine. Our tongues collide and I pull him closer, thrusting faster into his mouth, mimicking what I’ve seen in movies. But I don’t even really need to. It’s like our bodies know what to do on their own, our breaths becoming one as our teeth clash from the growing desperation.
Light spreads from him to me and I feel like I’m being wrapped in sunshine. Warmth fills my heart, and when we finally break apart, I desperately want to go back for more. He could have had this with anyone, but he chose me, and the thought of him sharing it with anyone else leaves a sick feeling in my gut.
“So . . . what do you think? Get a better idea now?”
His nose twitches and he shies away from me, cheeks tinting a pretty pink. “Kinda. Maybe need just a little longer. You know, so I can get a really good feel for it. A little practice never hurt either.” His lips attack mine again, our kisses more ravenous, and it isn’t until the hardness in his shorts is rubbing over mine that I realize he’s straddling my lap, his legs wrapped tightly around my waist like I’m a lifeline.
Melting against him, I explore more of his tongue, tasting as much of him as I can, my hands roaming down his back and ass. He moans into my mouth, our tongues hot and hungry. This is our third kiss and yet it feels like the first. I can’t get enough of him, needing more, sneaking my fingers up his shirt, the contact of our skin creating burning electricity.
He backs away, gasping for air, resting his forehead to mine and then laughing. “I think we should kiss more times . . .” He runs fingers through his hair, finishing his thought. “You know, throughout the day, to see if it’s like that every time.”
“I’m happy to be your guinea pig whenever you need me to,” I say, sounding hopeful.
“I’m happy to take full advantage.” He has a glint in his eyes as he presses a quick kiss to my cheek, and my lips are feeling jealous. It’s crazy. He’s still kissing me. Only not in the right place.
“Should we play a game?”
I scoot back toward the pillows and stretch out my legs. “Sure.”
Excitement sparkling in his eyes, he reaches for a small yellow box and takes out a stack of cards. The game we play is one we haven’t played before, and we spend the next two hours laughing and smiling. I’m glad he decided to continue our camping trip here, resuming right where we left off.
When our stomachs start making noises and the snacks aren’t enough to hold us over anymore, he reaches into the cooler and hands me a Lunchable, setting a second in his own lap.
Laughing, I peel back the plastic. “What are we, ten?”
“Hey,” he says pointedly. “You’re never too old for Lunchables. Just like you’re never too old for card games.”
“Sure, I guess.” What do I know about what ages you’re supposed to do all these things anyway? I skipped my whole childhood, basically, living the life my father mapped out for me—one a kid should never have to experience.
Sauce drips down Nate’s face and I swipe it away with my thumb, rubbing it off on my jeans. “You forgot napkins.”
“There’s always something,” he says between chuckles, taking another bite of his small pizza. “But that’s what I have you for. You make a great napkin.”
Smiling, I go back to munching on crackers and ham. I don’t mind cleaning up after his messes. I could do it all day. As long as that means he’s here with me and not with some asshole like Gabe or Rick.
Two Lunchables and several boxes of Yoo-hoo later, Nate turns on a movie, positioning his laptop next to me on top of a pillow. Snuggling close, he rests his head on my chest, turning to his side. Halfway through the slasher film, he presses his lips to my chin, his kisses trailing to my lips, and we make out until the credits roll, both flushed and breathless.
“Now I see why people like making out at drive-ins and theaters.”
I laugh and he kisses me again, slowly and gently this time, his smile pressing to mine. The tree house holds us up for longer than I had expected it to, lasting through two more movies, dinner, and more experimental kissing.
In the morning I expect it all to end, that he won’t need to try kissing out for size anymore. I expect him to be ready to explore with someone else with how much more confident he seemed before we went to sleep, but I’m wrong. I wake up to more kisses, and his lips find mine again after breakfast and in between more games in the tree house. Our mouths connect again in the hot tub in the back yard, his hands clinging to my shoulders, and it’s hard not to tug him onto my lap again.
I look forward to him reaching for me whenever he needs more of his fix, but by the next day he’s stopped, and though I hope it will only be a short break, it turns into the end of what we’d been doing. He’d sworn it wasn’t wrong as long as we both wanted it, but if he doesn’t want it anymore and I still do, does that make it wrong now?