12. Claire
twelve
Matthew’s soccerpractice was cancelled because of the rain.
It’s the only reason I was allowed out tonight, and even then, my mother was hesitant. But somehow, I stole myself some free time like a thief in the night.
I’m really only stealing two hours tops at the sports bar I used to work at, because I have to be home for bed time. But I get to be social. Juliet is joining us too, and for once in my life, I get to pretend I’m a regular adult human being who has control of her social life.
“How are my babies treating you?” Juliet asks once we’re all settled.
“They’re great! We’ll have to get together before you come back to go over a few behaviors, but I really do love your class. They’ve stayed on top of all of the lessons so far, too.”
“You’re a godsend,” she says, clasping her hands over her heart.
I’m not used to praise. My work at home is expected, and really, the only feedback I receive from my parents is being reprimanded if something goes wrong. God forbid my mother have to step away from her social circle for five minutes to actually be a parent.
Juliet turns toward Sam to hear something he’s trying to say, and I sigh over the top of my iced tea, waffling between being grateful for the extra time, and spending all of those sacred minutes watching them countdown.
“Okay. Claire. Two-o’clock. He has a full head of hair and a pair of sad eyes that simply scream he would be a fantastic pleasurer. He’d probably worship you for hours before he even let you touch him.”
“Penelope!”
“What?” She sips her tequila sunrise and lifts a brow as if she’s offended. “I clearly have a dry-spell-curse over here. I’m just trying to be a good wing woman.”
She points over my shoulder again and I humor her with a look. Sure, the dude has great hair—and dare I say, it would probably be nice to tug on? But he isn’t doing it for me. When I turn back around and shake my head, quirking my lips as if to apologize, Penelope’s head dips backwards on a groan.
“Okay. Try…” She taps her chin, her lips pursed, her blue eyes sparkling as she points to my right.
“Don’t point!” I exclaim, grabbing her wrist.
“Okay, but if Sad-Sack McGee wasn’t doing it for you, then maybe that tatted up biker guy will. Oh, shit, Claire, he would crack your pelvis.”
Lucy’s eyes widen. Juliet hides her nose in Sam’s bicep. The guys pretend to be interested in their beers. I put my head in my hands.
“Sorry. Did you not want your pelvis cracked? I just figured that was the opposite of the love making the other guy would’ve given you.”
She says it all so nonchalantly that I have to laugh.
“It’s not that. I just don’t have time for men right now.”
“Okay, but you also didn’t have time for men in high school when my love sick brother begged you to go to prom with him. Twice.”
Actually, I didn’t have time for prom either time because Matthew had soccer and Mom went on a “Mom-cation” with some of her friends that weekend.
“Your brother’s not my type.”
She ruffles my hair.
“I know. He’s gross. He isn’t anyone’s type.”
“What’s Connor up to these days?” I ask, reaching for an onion ring as soon as the order hits the table.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” she shrugs. “He and I don’t really keep up. He’s got that shiny rich father who claimed him a few years ago, so he’s in the city a lot.”
Despite Penelope’s rough exterior, I do see the hint of sadness in her eyes. It’s only there for a fraction of a moment before she zeroes in on me again.
“You could hit him up. I’m sure he’s got some sort of inheritance that would set you up for life, and you could solve that whole ‘I don’t have time for men’ bullshit since you already know him.”
She waggles her eyebrows and smirks, and I shove her in the shoulder.
“You should date Penelope’s brother!” Aaron interjects. “I love love.”
“He’s not my type,” I say again, tilting my head as the fleeting thought of Penelope’s half-brother Connor crosses my mind. Boyish, almost like Peter Pan. Connor won’t ever grow up. And if his bio-dad can give him a taskless position in his corporation and set Connor up for life, he’ll do just fine on his own. But I don’t want a taskless future. I want someone who will stimulate my mind. Someone who will meet me where I’m at, and lift me higher. I want someone like…
“Oh, hey! Nate! You made it!”
My heart palpitates. There is no other word for the clashing of those two thoughts.
Nathan Harding strides toward our table like he’s both entirely out of place and on a mission at the same time.
What the fuck is he doing here?
“Bro, what the fuck is Harding doing here?” Penelope whispers, her drink covering her mouth as she leans closer to my ear.
Stole the words right out of my mouth.
“Aaron and Sam were talking about how he holes up in his office all the time,” Lucy says. “They must’ve invited him.”
Lucy shrugs, then smiles and greets our assistant principal with an enthusiastic, Hey, Nathan! Juliet follows suit. Penelope looks stunned but intrigued as she wraps her tongue around her straw, and for a second, I think she has the hots for the AP. And then, I realize why she’s staring.
Because as Nathan Harding descends on our table, his greetings to the others are half-hearted. He waves, takes a handshake, and acknowledges every person at this table. But the deep dark eyes behind his glasses are lasers pointed directly at me.
It’s like I’ve been ensnared. The tether of his eyes tugs on my hand to shoot forward and connect with his.
A handshake? What the fuck is this?
“Ms. Benson. Nice to see you.”
Oh. Oh that’s what it is.
It’s the igniting of a flame when Nathan’s hand slips over mine. The gentle caress of his thumb over the back of my hand, sizzling my skin to the point where I almost pull away before he engulfs me entirely. He ends the contact for me, which is both blissful and painful. And as soon as he releases my hand, it’s as if he doesn’t even know I exist. Nathan falls right into the circle of the group, folded between Sam and Lucy in just a way that I have to make an effort to see him.
“Nate, my man! Let me grab you a beer,” Aaron says.
“I don’t drink.”
The group pauses for only a moment before Sam asks, “What’s your soda of choice?”
He says, Dr. Pepper, if they have it, and I let that piece fall into the Swiss cheese puzzle that I currently have of Nathan Harding as the guys vacate our table to head to the bar.
“Okay. Tell me more about this ‘I don’t have time to date.’ Because Juliet coaches speech, basically lives in her classroom, and still found time to sneak around and bone the baseball coach in between her planning periods.”
Annnnnd Penelope doesn’t miss a beat.
“Penelope!” Juliet exclaims.
“What?! Am I wrong?”
Juliet blushes scarlet and tries to hide it in her drink.
“Thought so. Lucy too. They both managed to fit seduce a River Valley teacher into their schedule. You don’t even have time for a little bit of fling-induced fun? When was the last time you even had sex, Claire Bear?”
It’s my turn to be painted in fifty shades of red.
“Um, I don’t know, college?”
Definitely college. Where I made it my mission to check “lose my virginity” off the list during my first semester, and then found one guy a year after that to keep myself in the game.
“Shit, girl. I’m buying you a vibrator. What’s your preference?”
“Jesus,” Lucy says under her breath. “Have we apologized yet for Penelope?”
“Go right ahead,” Penelope says. “I’m not sorry.”
“Pen, if Claire doesn’t want to date, don’t push it,” Juliet interjects.
“It’s not that I don’t want to…”
I think back to the other day, when these women had all but bullied me into having lunch with them. To Lucy putting her number into my phone with the intention to make time for me to talk about the direction of my future as my friend. I can trust them, can’t I?
“I’m not lying when I say I don’t have the time.” My laugh trips out of me nervously, the anxiety of impending judgment putting pressure on me from all angles. “I help out a lot at home with my siblings. Right now, dating is kind of on hold.”
I shrug, doing my best to avoid their penetrating stares by hiding my gaze in my slowly dwindling drink.
I don’t want their pity. Surprisingly, I don’t get it.
“I completely understand,” Juliet says. “I didn’t really date in college because I wanted to focus on school.”
“You should talk to Aaron,” Lucy agrees. “His family is kind of overbearing too. He’s still working through the balance, but I’m sure he’d have some advice for you.”
Penelope lays a hand on mine, and I meet a gaze filled not with pity, but with apology.
“I’ll stop pressuring you. Sorry, kid.” I nod, and she continues, “But when you are ready for a wing woman, I’d better be your first call.”
We all laugh, and my heart feels lighter.
“So… College?”
I nod sheepishly this time at Juliet’s question, then sigh.
“It was the best four years of my life, not because I could party at will—I honestly didn’t party a ton anyway—but because I got to do what I wanted with my time.”
This is as much as I’ll give them—tonight anyway.
“I hope, for your sake, they were good lays then,” Penelope says wide eyed.
“I wish,” I sigh, my propped elbow holding up my cheek as I lay it there. “Quite honestly, I faked more orgasms than a man ever gave me.”
I seem to have impeccable timing when it comes to saying stupid things out loud.
The guys choose that moment to return to the table. Aaron gazes to his woman with bug eyes. Sam coughs, wrapping his wife tightly to his side.
And Nathan?
I don’t think I’ve seen a mannequin with more stiff poise than he has right now. In fact, if he clutches his Dr. Pepper any harder, I’m afraid the glass might shatter in his hand and ruin the principal’s uniform he hasn’t quite yet taken off.
His poor silk tie would be ruined, and all over the fact that I just admitted to faking orgasms.
I gulp, knowing without a mirror that my cheeks are bright red.
“Anyway…” Penelope cuts herself into the conversation, reaching across the table for an onion ring. “Less talk about orgasms, am I right?”
Nathan tumbles into a coughing fit, and I use that as an excuse to head to the ladies’ room.