Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
TERENCE TRENT D’ARBY, “WISHINGWELL”
Gabby
My brain was mush. After breakfast, I spent the afternoon trying to study, but I couldn’t focus on anything but Matt. He said we’d be friends, but he also saw me in my bra. So what if, in the middle of the movie, he decided we should be friends who kissed? With Terence Trent D’Arby’s “Wishing Well” playing on my alarm clock radio, I felt like anything was possible.
Since Olivia went out with some of the other girls on our floor, I was left to my own devices to pick out my clothes, style my hair, and apply makeup. I kept my hair straight and my makeup was nothing more than cherry ChapStick, so I got adventurous and wore jeans that were a little tighter and rolled them up at the bottom to show a little bare leg. And I wore a V-neck sweater instead of a more conservative crewneck.
Of course, I was ready an hour early with nothing to do but dream of being alone with Matt on a sofa, maybe under a blanket, for as long as I wanted because I no longer had a curfew. What were the chances of him kissing me? Who could resist cherry ChapStick?
I looked around, even though I knew I was alone, and kissed the back of my hand. It was fine. Yummy cherry. But my hand didn’t kiss me back. Was I going too slow? Too fast? Not hard enough? Would tongue be involved? And who would initiate it? The movies made it look so easy, but those were actors with experience in kissing. I had no experience.
Hopping off Olivia’s bed, I wiped the back of my hand on a towel and ran up to the fourth floor. After two knocks, Ben answered.
“Where’s Jason?” I stepped past Ben to give his room a quick inspection.
“Bowling or something. I don’t know. What’s up?”
I turned toward him as he closed the door. “Do you love me? Like I’m truly your very best friend in the world?”
He squinted for a few seconds before nodding slowly.
“I’m going to Matt’s tonight to watch a movie. He says we’re just friends, but I don’t know if that’s true. And I’m so scared that he’s going to kiss me.”
“Then tell him no. It’s your right to say no. And for God’s sake, he just broke up with his girlfriend.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“No duh. But what if he doesn’t want to grieve his breakup? What if I don’t want to say no if he tries to kiss me?”
“Fuck, Gabbs.” He rolled his eyes like I suddenly annoyed him, and I must have since he dropped the F word again. “Then suck face with him. Whatever. What is your deal?”
“I don’t know how to kiss!” I balled my hands, then relaxed them when Ben gave me a look that confirmed my outburst lacked any sort of sanity.
What was happening to me?
Why had my desperation smothered all dignity and instinct for self-preservation?
“If you really love me, you’ll kiss me.” I scraped my teeth along my glossed lower lip. “Please.”
Ben planted his hands on his hips and gazed at the ceiling.
“I won’t tell Olivia or anyone. I promise. And we’ll never speak of it again after tonight.”
He remained stock-still. Maybe he was saying a brief prayer while looking to God. Something like: “Dear Lord, please let Gabby flunk out of school so I can gain a higher education in peace.”
“No way, Gabbs.”
“Way, Ben. Way! ” I added prayer hands to my pathetic, desperate whine.
“Fine,” he grumbled.
“Yes?” I perked up.
“I didn’t say yes. I said fine. Yes implies consent. Fine implies submission as a result of emotional coercion.”
“Eek! Thank you!” I blew out a slow breath to calm down, then I laced my fingers behind my back and closed my eyes while tipping my chin up.
“What are you doing?”
I peeked open one eye. “I’m waiting for you to kiss me.”
“You look like a three-year-old who’s just been instructed to give her grandma a kiss.”
I let my hands fall to my sides. “Fine. Then what am I supposed to do?”
He stepped closer. “Look at me.”
“The whole time?”
“No.”
“How long do I wait to close my eyes?”
Ben chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ll just … know.”
“What if I don’t?”
“You’ll close them when leaving them open feels too weird. Think of it like a blink. If I do this,” he crept his finger toward my eye, “you blinked because my finger was so close it was hard to keep your eyes open. Well, a kiss is the same, but instead of blinking, you just close your eyes and keep them shut until the kiss is over.”
“How will I know when the kiss is over?”
“When your lips are no longer touching, it’s over.”
“Duh. You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t.”
“Ben, you have to tell me things, step by step. Like when I had a loose baby tooth, my mom tied floss around it, and there was a countdown to her yanking it out. She kept me calm by telling me each step.”
“Oh yeah?” He squinted.
I nodded.
“Lucky you. My mom used to tie floss around my teeth, too. And she’d count down, but before she reached zero, she’d yank the thing out.”
I flinched. “Oh, that’s terrib?—”
Ben kissed me.
No talking it through.
No countdown.
Just his palms gently cradling my jaw, fingers teasing the nape of my neck, and his lips pressed to mine.
It was my first kiss, so without a comparison, I couldn’t say if it was slow or fast. And I couldn’t remember closing my eyes, but they were shut. And somehow my lips knew exactly what to do. I didn’t have to think about it.
My heart beat a little faster.
A tingle of warmth spread along my skin.
And I didn’t want to stop.
That’s how I knew I not only loved kissing; I was really good at it.
Then it was over, and I realized I wasn’t the one who ended it. Ben was. But that was okay. Someone had to end it.
He was the greatest friend in the history of best friends, and my grin said as much. However, he didn’t look as pleased as he averted his gaze and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What? Did I do something wrong? Was it bad? Too much ChapStick? Is that why you wiped your mouth?”
With a slight headshake, he brushed past me and turned on his desk lamp while lowering into his chair. “It was fine. Don’t you have a date tonight?”
“You’re mad.”
“I’m not mad.”
“Frustrated?”
“Gabriella.” He rested his elbows on his desk and dropped his head, stabbing his fingers into his hair.
I hated feeling like I was annoying him. It reminded me of my sisters when we were younger. They were too busy or too cool to deal with me and my stupid questions. That was one reason why I loved Matt. When he and Sarah were dating, he never made me feel like that, and he even told Sarah to “be nice” when she’d try to brush me off like a pesky fly.
“Whatever.” I spun toward the door.
As I reached for the handle, Ben’s hand slid around my waist, fingers splayed along my stomach, and he hugged me from behind, pressing his lips to the top of my head.
I closed my eyes and covered his hands with mine. “I’m sorry I’m so annoying.”
He chuckled. “You’re just you, Gabbs. Innocent. Honest. Kind. Don’t ever be anything you’re not. If he kisses you, don’t worry about what he thinks. It doesn’t matter.”
I turned toward him, burying myself in his embrace and the way his body cocooned me. My safe place.