Chapter Eight.
I had no recollection of the drive home or pulling into my driveway. My mind’s too preoccupied with what he said. For all I know, I teleported home.
I don’t want to be just friends with you, Charlie.
I’m flattered, horrified, confused and unsure of how to handle this situation.
I’ve never had a guy tell me he liked me nor imagined a guy being that forward about it.
How could it not change my perspective on Jared?
As soon as those words left his lips, my world shifted, leaving me with millions of new questions about how I feel about him, what to do about Shirley’s feelings and whether I should pursue this or not.
My mind’s reeling, and not just with questions, but with images and reminiscent memories of what I may have missed.
Images of his abs glistening on his tan skin in the hot sun after track practice in the summers, on how his calf definition is so intense from running that each move of his leg brings out another curve in his skin and how sometimes, just sometimes, I’d catch him watching me and I’d wonder if I’d imagined it.
I never wanted to believe any guy noticed me because he thought I was attractive, I always just assumed they were looking past me to someone else.
He’s been there all along. I’ve just been too oblivious to consider the possibilities.
I unpack my school things for the last time and sit on the couch in the living room, reflecting on my promise to Shirley and how she’ll think I’m a backstabber if I end up pursuing Jared after all.
She’s the one who told me he liked me in the first place, and I assured her I wasn’t interested even after hearing the possible truth.
But is that enough of a reason not to date a guy? I’m allowed to change my mind, right? I exhale forcefully, leaning my head back against the vanilla padded plush backing of the couch and stare at the ceiling, turning over more scenarios in my brain.
His graduation party’s tomorrow so I have enough time to figure this out, right?
Ugh, this makes my brain hurt. I don’t want to be a crappy person, but Shirley and I aren’t that close of friends…but is that enough of an excuse to be a bad person? Is a guy worth all this possible drama?
I lose track of the conversation in my mind when images of Jared invade again. His abs, his toned legs, his full lips that are always moistened, the slow flick of his tongue when he’d lick his lips right before speaking to me. Heat sears between my legs, the wetness already accumulating.
My palm loudly smacks my forehead in exasperation. Am I now completely controlled by my inner urges? So frustrating.
Yet, before I know it, I’m back in my room, turning off the lights and touching myself to the biker boy once again.
This time though, I’m aware I may have an audience.
Knowing he could be watching me, spurred me on, swiftly bringing me to orgasm.
Except afterwards, instead of feeling guilty, I was disappointed.
My biker didn’t reach out or drive by or anything.
What the hell was the other night about then?
Ugh.
Whatever. I shouldn’t be worried about him anyways, I have someone who doesn’t hide behind a helmet who actually shows me he likes me. Screw the biker.
Ugh, these mood swings are going to be the death of me.
Downstairs, I find Mom and Dad sitting on the back patio with their laptops open, conversing quietly. I slide open the double-sided glass doors and greet them.
“Hey! When did you guys get home?”
They’re both beaming.
“Oh, about twenty minutes ago,” Mom says brightly.
Wow, I didn’t even hear them. I hope I was quiet enough in my bedroom.
Panic shoots through me at the possibility they overheard me or the music coming from the video when my biker boy lifted up his shirt and spanked the back of the bike sexually one quick time before the video would replay.
“What’s that face for? I’ve only seen that look when you were doing something you shouldn’t be.” Dad’s laugh sounds strained, his smile once again not meeting his eyes as his brows crease.
Oh, God. Is he thinking about the other night? Did he catch on to what I was doing? My pulse quickens as I race to come up with an excuse for what I was doing upstairs.
“Oh honey, stop pestering her. It’s her last day of school after all. We officially have a college girl in the house!” She winks at Dad and gives me a big hug. God bless her. “How do you want to celebrate tonight?”
Hiding my sigh of relief, I say, “Let’s just stay in and play games tonight. I’m going to be at graduation parties all weekend so I’m going to need to save up my social energy for those.”
“Sounds good. I’ll order the pizza.”
She walks inside to call the pizza shop, leaving me with my father, the man who I’ve never had an awkward moment with in my life until recently, and who suddenly seems harder to be around because I don’t know how to act in front of him.
He smiles uncomfortably at me, as if he feels the same way before returning to his laptop and begins typing, presumably to work on his current book.
Taking my chance to escape further awkwardness, I go inside to pick out what games we’re going to play tonight.
I know we’ll have all summer to hang out, but I don’t want these moments to pass me by.
My parents are everything to me, and I can’t imagine not being close to either one of them.
I have to fix Dad and I’s relationship before I leave for college. There’s no other option.
Dad and I get into our competitive spirits quickly once the games begin, absorbing all the previous tension. I’m happy to be back to goofing off with him and feeling like the little girl he’s always been so proud of.
We finally call it quits around one in the morning after a great night, making me forget all the drama between Jared and Shirley.
Crap. Until now.
Doing what I can to stop my mind before it can jump over a ledge into a pool of overthinking, I snuggle in nude under my covers, enjoying the coolness of the silk on my skin.
Clothes feel too constricting tonight, as if my mental state’s suffocating me physically as well.
I’ll have plenty of time to deal with the Shirley debacle before Jared’s graduation party tomorrow. Future Charlotte can handle it. I hope.
I lay my phone on the other side of the bed next to me and bury my face in the pillow.
It hadn’t even been five minutes when a low light and vibration from my phone wakes me up.
Adrenaline energizes me, shooting me up as I stare at the screen, excitement rolling through me. It’s Ben. My breath uneven, I type back hesitantly.
I look around in confusion.
In disbelief, my mouth drops as a soft knocking sounds on my bedroom door. No way is he here. My parents are lax with the rules here but not that relaxed. If they find him here this late, we’ll both be screwed.
I bundle up my comforter, quickly wrapping it around my naked body and open the door to see Ben standing in his full motorcycle gear right in front of me.
I can’t believe it. He’s never done anything like this before.
How’d he get in? I panic, worried that something terrible happened.
Why else would he risk getting in trouble?
His honey brown eyes widen at the sight of me, his full lips parting and tongue flicking the roof of his mouth just long enough for me to notice it before his face goes blank. The soles of his motorcycle boots quietly thud on my bedroom floor as he sits his motorcycle helmet on my desk.
Grasping the door handle with one hand and pressing my palm flat on the door with the other, I press the door shut behind him quietly, making sure to not release the tension of the knob until it’s fully settled into the doorjamb to avoid even the sound of a click.
My shoulders wiggle the comforter up a little more to make sure I’m still fully covered before turning around.
When I do, I find him sitting on the bed looking down, slowly rubbing his thumbs together with his elbows resting on his knees.
I haven’t seen him look this solemn…ever. My heart races as I shuffle over to the desk chair, being careful not to trip over my comforter and almost flash him like what happened with my father.
He takes a deep breath, then with a noticeable effort, raises his head. Pieces of his un-gelled hair fall over, staying just out of his eyes. I want to comfort him and sit next to him, but I don’t feel comfortable being naked and all underneath my blanket, so I stay where I am.
“What’s going on? Are you okay? Did something happen?”
We lock eyes as I search his for an answer…any answer to tell me the cause for this late-night surprise visit. He silently studies me, slowly moving his gaze down to my bare collarbone and then at my hand grasping the comforter to my chest.
“Why aren’t you sitting next to me?”
“Oh, I uh, want to, but I currently don’t have any clothes on under my blanket, sooo…,” I reply slowly, carefully.
His eyes perk up. “I can step out of the room if you want so you can get dressed. I want you sitting here on the bed with me.”
That wouldn’t work. If my parents come out of their bedroom and see him standing in the hallway outside of my door, that could be very bad.
Let alone make the situation even more awkward with my father and possibly cause an irreparable rift.
I can’t imagine what my mother’s reaction would be, but I don’t think she’d care, honestly.
She trusts me wholeheartedly. Dad though, he’s very protective of my innocence as he’s proven constantly lately.
“No, that won’t work. I don’t want you to get caught and you absolutely will be if you’re standing outside my bedroom door. Just go to my closet and face the clothes. I’ll grab something from my dresser.”
He nods, the corner of his lip twitching up, and walks to the closet, facing the other way.
“If you peek, I’ll slap you so hard it’ll make you scream and then I won’t care if you get in trouble.”