Chapter Five
I return to my role of invisible daughter for the remainder of dinner, until my mother finally gives me the nod of release. I excuse myself. Say all the polite things people utter when they depart and try not to speed walk out of the dining room.
I immediately change into sweatpants and a tank top, kicking my dress across the room.
I let the irritation come out from where I stuffed it all through dinner and kick the shoes too.
Who are they to judge anyway? They don’t know anything about my friends.
The irritation has been overwrought by anger as I pace my room, grumbling.
No one gets to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with.
Especially not an arrogant jerk who probably doesn’t have a sincere friend in his contacts.
He can’t even keep a wife for longer than five years, this being his third.
And I guarantee she’s only with him for the Botox.
Okay, that was mean. Maybe she does love him. Or maybe he’s just lonely.
I flop down on my bed, my mini tirade exhausting me.
I don’t do anger well. I end up feeling guilty for being angry even if the person deserves it.
I’d make a horrible lawyer, regardless of my family’s legacy.
I’ll let my brother fill those shoes. He was eager to declare prelaw with his acceptance to Columbia. Not quite far enough away.
A tap on my window flips me over, my heart skipping a beat.
Jonathan’s face comes into focus. I jump up and race over to the window as he begins to ease it open. I help push it up from my side.
“What are you doing here?” I ask frantically as he slips gracefully into my room. “They could have seen you.”
“They didn’t,” he says with confidence. “They’re in the… whatever that room is where there’s just furniture. I made sure.”
He closes the window before facing me with a smile. “Surprised?”
“Very.” My heart is still freaking out.
“Good surprise?” He inspects me like he’s afraid he over-stepped. I take a breath to release the flood of panic and smile. He takes this as an invitation to step close to me and wraps me in his arms, bending down for a kiss.
My arms are around his neck without hesitation.
My stomach swirls, and my head feels light, like the drop off the top of a roller coaster.
I let out a small squeak when he lifts me up, his hands under my thighs.
He sits on my bed. I straddle him and peel off his jacket, our mouths never parting.
I can barely feel the edge of the cut healing on his upper lip.
It’s easy to forget that he’s injured when he kisses me like this.
I think I could figure out how to do anything in life with him attached to me, the most proficient kissing multitasker.
And if I can’t, who needs to do anything other than kiss anyway?
My fingers find his hair. His hands are hot on my back. I move ever so slightly, and our breaths falter. This is getting way too fiery, considering my parents and their guests are somewhere in the house. With great willpower, I pull away. My lips buzz, and my heart is a hummingbird once again.
“I can’t believe you climbed the tree to sneak in my room.” My words are breathy. I don’t mean them to sound sexy, but it’s hard to talk while still catching my breath.
“You do it when you sneak out, so I figured I could use it to sneak in.” He nuzzles his face into my neck, and I hold him close, my eyes drifting shut.
“Your room is kinda messy. That’s… unexpected.” He’s peering over my shoulder. I cringe.
“I’m not the neatest person. Thought you knew that.” I’m not outwardly messy. Just in the places I can hide it.
“I would never describe you as disorganized.”
“That’s different.” I lean back to look at him, running my fingers along the side of his head, through the soft buzz of hair. My thumb grazes his healing lip. “I’m organized because I’m messy.”
He laughs. I gently cover his mouth with my hand and snap my attention to the door. When I don’t hear anyone on the stairs, I take my hand away.
“Sorry,” he says in an exaggerated whisper, grinning wildly.
I consider asking him details about how he got hurt, but I don’t want to ruin this. I like the way he’s smiling at me right now too much to make it go away with a question he’ll never answer anyway. “You’ve never been in my room before, have you?”
Jonathan shakes his head. I didn’t realize that until now.
I’ve actually never been in his house, come to think of it.
He and Collin have been in the downstairs of my house, and we’ve all slept over at Collin’s.
We usually hang out in Collin’s basement because his mom’s not home much since she works long shifts at the hospital.
Even with my parents working long hours, Magda’s still here, so I’m never really alone.
“If I’d known you were sneaking in, I would’ve picked up.”
“Really?” he asks, not believing me. For good reason because I probably wouldn’t have. Or I would’ve just dumped everything in the closet. I shake my head. He smiles, reminding me how well he knows me.
“Well,” I say, sliding off his lap to sit on the bed, my legs still draped across his as I sweep my arm in a grand gesture, “welcome to my messy yet organized room.”
There are clothes tossed everywhere. Strewn across my floor, draped on the chaise and desk chair, and hanging on the doorknob to my closet.
I jump up to snatch the white cotton bra hanging from the doorknob and throw it inside the closet. Of course, by doing this, I’ve drawn attention to it, and Jonathan chuckles.
“I’ve seen bras before,” he teases.
“Oh, really? Whose?” Before he can answer, I take it back. “Don’t tell me. I can probably guess.”
“Umm… I didn’t mean it like that.” He laughs at me again.
I’m being ridiculous, and I know it. “Sorry. I’m just a little weirded out that you’re here, sitting on my unmade bed.”
“Is it ever made?”
“No.” I get within reach, and he’s pulling me back toward him. I collapse onto his lap and toss an arm over his shoulder. “Are you messy? I’ve never seen your room either.”
“I’m pretty much the opposite of you.”
“Right,” I say with a nod. “I’ve seen your truck. But I thought it was a car thing. You know, you dote on it like a trophy that needs continuous polishing. Then again, your locker’s pretty neat too.”
“Your locker’s a little chaotic,” he notes. “But… organized?”
I nod. “Guess we could never live together. I’d drive you crazy, tossing my things everywhere when I entered or undressed.”
“If you were undressing, I don’t think I’d mind.”
My cheeks burn, and he laughs again. He catches himself and covers his mouth in apology.
We’ve only kissed so far. Our bodies may get a little impassioned when we get carried away.
But we’ve never removed clothes. I haven’t even touched him under his shirt yet.
It’s not that I don’t think about it. I’ve seen him without one probably a million times.
I mean, he had his shirt off when we first kissed.
But we were in public. So not the same as running my hands under his shirt.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Taking your shirt off,” I blurt honestly.
He quirks an eyebrow. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
The heat on my face intensifies. He kisses my rosy cheek.
He suddenly leans back to lie on the bed.
I tumble after him and land on my side, my legs entwined with his.
I prop my head on my elbow. He’s looking at the ceiling, avoiding my gaze.
He can’t look at me. And now my stomach becomes a bottomless pit of nerves.
Was it something I did? Probably something I said. Which is why kissing’s better.
“I heard what you said earlier, about being nervous at school. If we should be seen together. We shouldn’t care about that or what people think. So, I’ll be seen with you, if you’ll be seen with me?”
I lean over the top of him to try and meet his eyes, which are still fixed on the ceiling. He focuses on me. “Are you serious? You’re actually asking me if I want to be seen with you?”
He looks sheepish, like he’s not really sure how to navigate this conversation. Not that I do. I mean, I’ve been driving myself crazy for over a month because I avoided even having this conversation. The whole are we together, as in more than friends, conversation.
“I want that.” I kiss his nose. “To be seen with you. Let someone try and stop me.” I attempt a semblance of bravado. Far from it. I almost laugh at myself.
As if summoned, someone knocks on my door.
I bounce off the bed, and Jonathan springs for the floor. “Uh, come in.” I trip over Jonathan’s legs as I race to the door and nearly fall into my mother as she opens it.
She shakes her head at me. “You wouldn’t be tripping over anything if you actually picked up after yourself.”
I sigh, not about to add fuel to this conversation. I had to throw a fit—well, a little one—when I was thirteen to keep her from sending Magda into my room to clean it up, demanding privacy. She gave in, reluctantly.
“I wanted to see how you were doing after what Kenneth said at dinner. He’s such an ass.”
I smile warmly. “I’m fine. It just surprised me. I didn’t know the rest of the office knew about”—I attempt to lower my voice—“my friends.” Oh, I hope Jonathan isn’t listening. But that’s a dumb thing to wish, considering he’s probably holding his breath to listen.
“It’s not something your father could hide exactly, although he’s tried to be discreet.”
Mom steps further into the room, and I shift to stay between her and the other side of the bed.
She sits on the side closest to the door, and I can’t breathe.
I want to look behind her to see if he’s still there.
I doubt there’s even enough room beneath my bed for him to slide under it.
I have no idea what I kicked under there just to avoid putting it away.
I silently swear to clean every inch of my room if we don’t get caught right now.
“I hate to ask you… but do you think you could maybe spend less time with the boys for a little while? Until we can get a handle on the campaign. I want to be careful for the next few months. This is a special election, so it’ll just be until February. I wish I didn’t have to…”
“You don’t want me to be seen with my best friends?” I clarify like there’s no way she just asked this of me.
“Please?” The plea reaches her eyes, like she wishes she didn’t have to ask. But I feel the weight of it, like my answer will determine the election.
I don’t answer. How can I? Especially with Jonathan a few feet away. And now that we’re finally together-ish.
She stands, having said what she needed to say. She brushes a hand across my cheek and kisses my forehead. “Thank you, sweetie. It’ll help your father. He really wants to make a difference and improve the system. You understand that.”
“I know.” My words are quiet, and so is my heart. My mother leaves me staring at the closed door.
Jonathan shuffles out from under the bed. I spin around. “They don’t want you hanging out with us?”
“I… it’s… I won’t do it. They can’t make me.” And I’m back to being the defiant, petulant child. Sulking isn’t going to change the situation. But really, this is not fair. Not now!
Jonathan sighs. It’s a breath that says everything and sends panic rushing through me. My heart skips a beat. I remain frozen, waiting for the words. But they don’t come. He runs a hand through his hair and walks toward the window, his head hung low.
Without looking back, he slips out onto the branch. I don’t call to him, begging him not to listen to them. I don’t do anything but watch him leave. This feels familiar. Heartbreakingly so.