30. Chapter 30
“You must really be missing me! Why else would you be calling when you’re on vacation with your sugar daddy?!” Shay grinned.
We both laughed. I sat on the edge of my bed, looking out the open window. A breeze blew the afternoon air through. It was early morning for Shay. It surprised me when she answered. She must be missing me, too.
“Not my sugar daddy, just my boyfriend,” I corrected.
In some ways, being here felt like an extended fantasy.
It was too easy to forget everything in my real life.
Sometimes I caught myself daydreaming and wishing that this thing, whatever it was, could work out.
Injecting realism by reaching back home helped keep me level. I wanted to talk to someone.
“I’m totally not jealous of all the pictures you send me. Shit’s amazing, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “So amazing.”
She leaned in closer to the screen, concern on her face. “So amazing that you’re not going to do that stupid thing and sell out for money?”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Poppy! You can’t!”
“I have to.” I sighed.
“You seem so happy with this guy. Don’t fuck that up!”
“It would never work out anyway.” Guilt gnawed at my chest.
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Cause he’s older than Dad.”
“Who gives a shit! Have you told him how you feel?” she pressed.
I shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “…No.”
“Why the FUCK not?!”
“Because once we’re back in the States, we have to break up,” I whispered sadly.
“Girl, if you don’t stop worrying about a fuckin’ check and secure the dick…!”
“Shay!” I scolded, unable to hold back a laugh at her crude advice.
“With you confessing your love for your old man, I think it’s my turn to admit to doing a bad thing.”
“Oh, God, we’re both idiots. I’m just gonna let you know I don’t have bail money.”
“Shut up, Poppy.”
“Okay, shutting up. Now, tell me what you did.”
She sighed. “… I slept with Jordan.”
“YOU SLUT!”
“I won’t stand for this slut-shaming, Poppy!”
We both laughed.
“When you said something bad, I was bracing myself, but that’s not anything. Honestly, I was wondering why it took so damn long.”
“POPPY!”
“It’s true. You two are drawn to each other!”
“I do love him. It’s like his name is on my heart.”
I gagged. “You know I don’t go for the lovey-dovey stuff.”
“You fucking liar! You just admitted you love a dude older than your dad! We both have a ton of fucking issues!”
“Look at you, being all right and shit,” I huffed.
“Forget about trying to secure the bag and let that man love you. You deserve it.”
“What makes you think he’ll love me back? Maybe he’ll turn me down.” I put on a mocking British accent. “Cheerio, Poppy. It’s well ‘n good ya love me, but you’re a spot too childish and young for me. Rest in peace, Queen Elizabeth.”
Confusion filled Shay’s face. “What?”
“What if he turns me down saying I’m too childish for him?”
Shay let out a frustrated groan. “You’re not some teenage girl. You’re a nerd who likes cartoons. Remember years ago when you told me adults are the ones who make cartoons? You need to get over yourself.”
“Easier said than done.”
“I think you’re making the wrong choice, Poppy.”
“I don’t. I need the money more than ever now. I don’t have a job.”
“I told you to slow the fuck down!”
“When have I ever listened to you? It is what it is, Shay. I love him, but I need the money more.”
“Love is weird, Poppy. You can love him, it’s okay.”
You can love him, it’s okay.
I tugged on the edge of a braid while Shay’s sage advice swirled inside my head.
“…You really think so?” My voice wavered with uncertainty.
She nodded confidently, her eyes filled with conviction. “I do. However impractical it sounds. Live your truth, girl. None of us are guaranteed tomorrow.”
There was a gentle knock on the bedroom door, and I looked up to Summoner, peeking his head into the room.
“I’ve gotta go, Shay.”
“Alright, dude. Please think about what I said, okay?”
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you too, Poppy!”
I closed my laptop and motioned for Summoner to enter.
“Am I interrupting anything?” he asked.
“Nah, just catching up with a friend. What’s up?”
He leaned against the doorjamb and smiled. “…I’d like to try again. Will you go on a date with me, Poppy?”
It had been a few days since our early-morning pool heart-to-heart.
For all his rough edges, Summoner seemed back to himself.
Yet a part of him still seemed distant, just outside of my reach.
I couldn’t say I didn’t recognize it. I was well acquainted with the itch of embarrassment reinforced by shitty mental health.
“I’m going to say yes because you know I am. But what’s changed this time around?”
He stepped forward and held onto the bedpost. “Fair question. One, I talked through things with my psychiatrist, Dr. Lee. It was a pleasant conversation. He had brilliant advice. Two, I took my Xanax a few minutes ago. Three, I plan on talking to you about how I’m feeling.
And four, you’ll be there being you, and that means more to me than you know. ”
My lips spread into a wobbly smile. This man had my heart. I let myself get washed away with the feeling. Even if I never told him, loving him was okay.
He straightened his shoulders and repeated, “Will you go on a date with me, Poppy?”
***
Dressed in a white, flowy sundress and a pair of strappy sandals, I felt the right combination of sexy and cute. With a small shoulder purse, I looked perfect for a summer date.
But when Summoner started down the drive on the motorcycle, my heart jumped up into my throat and my looks were the last thing on my mind.
I was still a little uneasy, but several miles down the road, I was back on my bullshit.
The Spanish countryside zoomed by like a painting come to life as I pressed kisses to my boyfriend’s neck.
As we made our way into town, he swerved around a slow-moving truck.
“Damn lorry drivers!” he shouted.
“What the fuck is a lorry?!?!”
Summoner pulled into a different part of town than before. Everything was quieter and more subdued. He stopped the bike on a side street. I rubbed his shoulders as he turned off the bike.
“How are you holding up?” I asked.
He slid off his helmet and flashed a smile over his shoulder. “I’m doing well at the moment. Thanks for asking. How are you?”
I pulled off my helmet, allowing my braids to breathe.
“I’m good.”
“Good.”
Summoner climbed off the bike and put on his glasses. I tried not to flash my underwear as I stumbled off the bike. Laughing quietly to himself, Summoner reached for me.
Hand in hand, we walked down the street. It was such a normal, everyday activity couples did. But it didn’t stop my heart from beating wildly.
We turned a corner and entered a small bookstore.
A tiny bell above the door rang as we stepped inside.
The air was heavy with the fragrance of old books.
I wanted to bottle the scent and wear it as a personal perfume.
The shelves were bursting with books; any effort at sorting them had ended with small piles stacked on the floor.
None of the staff looked our way. We were free to browse. It was perfect.
I squeezed his hand. “This is amazing!”
Smiling, he led me down a random aisle. We walked carefully so as not to meet an untimely end by an abandoned stack of books.
I squinted at the book spines, unable to read any of the titles.
We were in the sci-fi section, I guessed.
I watched Summoner browse with ease, his eyes bouncing from one title to the next.
Still hand in hand, we rounded a corner down another aisle. A floor stack of books brushed against my calf. I stumbled forward, and Summoner’s mirthful cackle filled the air. My glare was so intense that he had to turn away.
Eyebrows knitted together, my brain attempted and failed at translation gymnastics.
“…Can you read any of these? I can’t,” I whispered.
He rubbed a hand over his mouth, “I’m trying to look smart for you. I speak it better than I can read it.”
I giggled. “Look smart? You need to try? I think you’re pretty smart.”
“Whatever gave you that impression?”
“Well, only a smart, well-read man rereads Chaucer, Butler, Shakespeare, Plath, and Whitman in his spare time and then adds references to their work in his pop songs.”
His lips wiggled as he failed to suppress his smile.
“Some people call that pretentious,” he mumbled.
“Those people are assholes.”
“Of the highest caliber.”
He stopped and turned to me, placing a hand on my hip.
He stepped forward and the heavy breaths out of my mouth tangled with his.
My ass pressed against the bookshelf. Thankfully, the wood was sturdy and seemed unmoved by my weight.
His forehead met mine, giving me a front seat view to his stunning eyes.
I looked for any hint of fear or self-loathing under the surface, but the pool of green danced. He was teasing me and having fun.
Damn him.
His hand cupped my cheek and his thumb brushed across my lips. My core clenched.
“Not fair…” I muttered.
“I never play fair, Poppy. I thought you knew that by now.”
His lips pressed against mine slowly in a measured kiss.
My back arched, desperate for more. Summoner continued to tease with friendly pecks.
I whimpered. Thankfully, he took mercy on me and pressed our lips together mid-whine.
His tongue delved into my mouth. The shelf creaked as my body relaxed against it.
My hands drifted up his neck and into his hair.
I tugged at the strains. He slowly backed away, leaving me breathless and wanting.
Chest heaving, I looked up at him, grinning.
Devilish bastard.
Clearing my throat, I tugged down the hem of my dress and stood up. Relieved of me, the bookshelf creaked again. Face aflame, I fell into step behind Summoner, who had returned his attention to browsing the books. His voice softened as we rounded the corner.
“I think this is your spot.”