Ten
River
Summer and I end the night how we started it—by eating food that’s probably not the best for us. But Summer and I are too tired and far too buzzed to care.
We’re both sitting with our backs against my headboard, shoes now discarded and my tie thrown somewhere in my room. Summer’s hair is falling out of her neatly done curls and her dress is wrinkled.
Both of us are sharing a bag of peach rings and sipping on our slushy flavors of choice. Cherry for Summer because she’s convinced that’s good on its own, and a mix of different flavors for me because I don’t lack taste.
“Okay,” I say with my mouth full of slushy. “Truth or truth?”
We decided Truth or Dare as our choice of game to end the night off but then realized that we’re both too exhausted to want to do any dares, and just doing truths wasn’t working out when we realized that we both know almost everything about each other.
Which is no fun when we’re playing this game, so now we’re just asking dumb questions and answering them stupidly, on purpose.
“Truth.” Summer pops a peach ring into her mouth.
“Is it true that you have a foot fetish?” I begin but stop her from answering right away. “But specifically with feet dipped in whipped cream?”
“What?” Summer looks at me, wide-eyed. “Dude, that’s very specific. Are you sure that you shouldn’t be answering this question?”
“I mean, sure I can. I have nothing to hide.”
Summer gestures for me to continue. “Okay, then. What’s your answer?”
I tap my chin and think about it for a moment, wanting to prolong the anticipation. “I’d say it’s in the top five of my kinks.”
“Oh my god,” Summer cackles. “Are you serious?”
I nod even though I’m not serious, at all. “Are you kink shaming me right now?”
Summer shakes her head and wipes her eyes. I could watch her laugh all night. “Feet are one thing. I feel like that’s normalized now, but what’s with the whipped cream?”
I arch my eyebrow. “Do I really need to explain that one?”
“No, actually, please don’t.”
I bite off a piece of a peach ring just to take a huge gulp of my slushy and stick my tongue out, which only causes me to spill some all over the front of my shirt in the process.
Summer doesn’t hesitate to laugh and call me an idiot for ruining a perfectly good shirt.
I’ll take looking stupid any day when I get to hear Summer’s laugh.
“Okay, it’s your turn.” Summer nudges my shoulder.
“Alright but this better be good because my question was top tier.” I set my slushy down on my bedside table, not needing any more accidents. Summer follows suit.
I start thinking of any ridiculous question she could possibly ask, trying to prepare for my answer, but what she asks is something I wasn’t anticipating.
“Truth or truth?” she asks and I answer pointlessly.
“Is it true—” She hesitates and it’s not that I know the question, I just know that something is about to shift.
How? Well, I’m about to find out, I guess.
She repeats herself. “Is it true…that you don’t think about our kiss?”
I knew that at some point this was coming. If not now then eventually, when we can no longer handle the pressure of pretending that it didn’t happen.
“Isn’t that what we wanted?” I ask because after our kiss, we realized what we had done, but weren’t going to let it ruin anything. That was the idea anyway.
“Let’s just pretend it never happened, okay?”
That’s what Summer said and I agreed because it made sense for us. But just because we agreed to forget about it doesn’t mean that I have. It just means that I’m accepting that Summer and I will never be anything more.
“Well, yeah…” Summer pauses. “But, I just wanted to know if…”
Maybe it’s the liquid courage, although I only allowed myself one shot of whatever Moose snuck into the karaoke club, knowing that I need to get Summer home safely.
Or it could be how…gentle and vulnerable she looks right now.
I’m honored she feels safe enough to know that she doesn’t have to hide or pretend.
Not with me. But because of this trust she puts in me, I feel the need to answer her question truthfully. This is truth or truth after all.
“You want to know what?” My voice drops even though Moose is over at Bethany’s but it feels safer this way. “Do you want me to tell you that I don’t think about it all the time? That I haven’t memorized the feeling of you on my lap, or your skin on mine?”
Summer’s breath catches and her grip on the hem of her dress tightens. It only makes me want to keep going, so I do.
“It would be ridiculous for me to say that I do think about how good you tasted, but yeah, Summer. I do. I think about it and I try not to because I don’t want to ruin anything between us.”
I want Summer so bad that the ache of not being able to have her sits against my chest. The weight crushes my rib cage and the bones there are on the verge of piercing straight through my heart.
“What if we pretended?” Summer suggests, as if I’m supposed to know what that means but she doesn’t give me time to be confused for too long, because she continues breathlessly. “For tonight, pretend that this is the first time we’ve ever met.”
Her voice shakes. “Pretend you don’t know my name or where I’m from. Pretend you don’t know my favorite color, or my parents.”
“Summer…”
“Just show me,” she practically begs. “Pretend I’m a stranger.”
She wants me to pretend that I don’t know her like the back of my hand? As if I haven’t tested the ink of a new pen by writing her name? She wants me to act like we have no history? That I can’t pick her voice out in a crowd?
Strangers?
If that’s what she wants to pretend to be tonight, then fine.
I’ll be a goddamn stranger.
Turning my body, my hands rush to find either side of Summer’s face.
Her own hand settles low on my hips and our breathing intertwines.
We press our lips to one another hesitantly.
My body finally exhales, like it’s been waiting for this for months.
Years, I’d argue. Something ignites inside me.
The goosebumps forming aren’t from the slushy I spilled all over me, but from the scent of coconut in her hair.
I run my fingers through the tips of the silky strands.
I pull her closer. So close that she’s now in the same spot she was seven months ago. Right on my lap. Summer’s hand balls into a fist in my shirt, holding on to the fabric tightly. She doesn’t seem to care that my shirt is wet and sticky.
I pull away but only enough to let my lips travel over her cheeks, down her neck, her chest, her shoulders—any part of exposed skin I can get to. One of my hands moves from the side of her face to reach down between us, and I rest my hand on her breast, squeezing the flesh.
I’d love nothing more than to take her gorgeous dress off and latch my mouth onto her breasts. I know she’s not wearing a bra. I’ve been able to tell all night. The number of times I had to fix myself through my jeans tonight was ridiculous.
I don’t even know what I’m doing. I’ve had one singular handjob, ever. And it was with my ex from high school, Vivianna. But despite not knowing a damn thing, I do know that this feels right. That she feels right.
I’m assuming—and silently praying I’m right, despite not being religious—Summer feels the same because her hips grind into mine and her breath hitches against my skin. A groan escapes her lips and she tries to cover it by pressing her mouth to my shoulder.
“I think about you all the time,” I admit against her skin. “Every single waking moment,” I whisper while nipping at the skin on her neck.
“Every dream I’ve ever had…” I desperately need her to understand that her existence takes up most of my thoughts.
I’m in a complete daze. I feel like I’m in heaven or floating around. I’m not thinking clearly at all. All that consumes me is her. Summer is the axis in which I revolve around.
But…that’s all I can give her.
I can give her my love, my attention, my everything and yet she’s only going to deserve more.
Your life is small, Jaejoon. Don’t you want more?
You’re a background person, Jaejoon. Push your way to the front.
More, Jaejoon. Try more. Try harder. Be better.
You’re disappointing us, Jaejoon.
My parents are my biggest enemies, but they also know me more than anyone and they’d agree that Summer deserves more than a small life, with small goals, and a small table of options.
Summer has always desired this grand life and I’ve been fine with being at least a miniscule part of it. Watching from the sidelines and being there when the stage lights go out. That’s my place in her life. Behind her, watching her shine.
“Wait,” I whisper against her lips. “Wait, Summer.” The words pain me. I want to take them back and swallow them. Act as if I’ve never uttered them at all.
Summer pulls back, blinking a few times to refocus her gaze. Like reality has hit her, she quickly climbs off my lap and I do nothing to stop her, no matter how badly I want to.
“I’m so sorry,” she pants. “I don’t know why I did that.”
My lungs are on fire and I’m not sure why my chest is hurting just from her apology. Why is any of this happening at all?
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry, Pretty Girl.”
Damn it.
This is not the first time that name has slipped out, but the way Summer flinches at it only reaffirms that it should never come out of my mouth again.
Summer looks away and that’s not something she usually does.
Eye contact has never been something she’s struggled with but the rims of her eyes are glistening and I want to fix it.
I want to tell her that I want her so bad.
Tell her that I’m willing to be selfish and hold her back because at least I’d get to hold her at all.
“Summer.” I use her actual name this time. “Hey, look at me. Let me see those pretty eyes.”
And the way she looks up at me kills every part of my being.
If I could be more than I am, I would. Just for her.
“I don’t want to ruin anything,” I remind her. “I need you in my life. I’m that codependent.” I chuckle, trying to make light of this entire situation.
“I just think that our friendship means too much—”
She softly interrupts me. “And we shouldn’t risk it.”
My shoulders fall. Her understanding takes a weight off my chest.
Summer brushes her hair behind her ears and straightens out her back. The finality of the situation cuts deeper than I thought.
“I just think my head’s a little fuzzy from the alcohol.” Summer tries her best to smile but I know better. And I also decide against calling her out on it tonight. I’m not exactly telling the truth either. “You’re right, anyway. You and me? That’d be one shit-show.”
I know I should agree with her but her coming to her senses and realizing all of this eats away at me a little bit. But it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve shoved my feelings down for her since we were ten years old. Right now shouldn’t be any different.
“Hey, Summer?” I nudge her leg with mine, knowing that this is probably going to be one of the last times I allow myself to touch her in any way. Just to be safe.
She now has no problem meeting my gaze and…there. There are those gorgeous eyes and the soft way her eyebrows crinkle when she’s listening.
For a beat, we’re both silent. Life continues around us.
The honking of cars outside continues. The sharp musky smell of the leaking kitchen faucet my landlord hasn’t bothered to fix hangs in the air.
My shirt is still damp and Summer is still all kinds of perfect, but unlike my clothes, I can’t change my feelings for her for something else.
All I can do is accept the facts. And the fact of the matter is that I can’t have Summer the way that I want.
She shifts closer and I can’t help but do the same, like even though our mouths say one thing, our bodies are still awfully aware of the other.
“Best friends?” I gently ask.
Her smile is soft in a way I’ve only ever witnessed in this kind of lighting. The question hangs in the air like it did when we were in fifth grade.
I hold out my hand, palm flat. Waiting.
Summer’s eyes linger on me for just a moment before her palm meets mine. And once we’ve lightly given each other a high five, we pull away just to bump our fists. Our knuckles hit with a soft thud.
“Yeah, River.” She nods and swallows like what she’s about to say next hurts. “Best friends.”
And I can’t lie to myself and say it doesn’t hurt me either.