“Guess you have learned something.”
“Guess I have. I lost two the other day though. Coyote pack took ‘em down.” He dropped his jeans, leaving just his blue plaid boxers. He knew I was looking at him and gave me a wink. I rolled my eyes back at him shaking my head no. “Come on, Al. It’s not like your Dad’s here to kick me out this time. How old were we? Twelve or thirteen?”
“Thirteen.”
“I never saw him get worked up ‘bout us too many times. But that night. Damn. He looked like he was goin’ to explode. He threw my duffle bag right out your window. I stood there confused as shit.”
“Dad had taken me to buy tampons that day and freaked out. Then he tried to give me some kind of sex talk.”
“Betcha just turned bright red.”
“No, jerk.” I frowned, throwing my pillow toward his head. He ducked and the fluffy square hit my desk instead. A book fell, vibrating off the wood floor while the graduation picture teetered on the edge. Distracted, I didn't see Jess grab the pillow for a quick hit to my face, smothering me down against the bed. I screamed into the fabric as he let go, laughing so close I could smell his brushed teeth.
“So what’d he say ‘bout me?”
“Nothing. He just said you couldn’t stay anymore and then kicked your stupid ass out like I’m about to.”
“You can’t kick my ass. And you know what happens when you try.” Jess climbed on the bed next to me and held the pillow up like a threat. He smiled with humorous eyes racked in fatigue. I felt a tightening in my chest as I watched my friend. I had missed him more that I could even put into words.
“Maybe I’ve gotten better at it while I was gone.”
“Doubt it.” Letting go of the pillow, Jess lifted the blanket up, exposing my bare legs sticking out from under his shirt. He reached over and pulled the hem down to cover my panties from being exposed. His face grew serious. “Tell me to go and I will.”
“Don’t go.” Nothing inside of me could look into that sweet face and tell him to leave. I moved to the edge letting Jess slide between me and the wall. Under the faded purple comforter, his body fit snug against my back and curved around my butt. I reached up and turned off the lamp, bathing the room with only moonlight. I relaxed into the steady beat of his heart against my shoulder blades.
“You still smell like peaches.”
“You just want me to smell like peaches.” I smiled in the darkness, feeling his left hand settle in the center of my stomach over my belly button. Our feet intertwined, making the cold stiffness of my toes melt into his skin. Our bones settled and our muscles relaxed.
“I hate workin’ all day and crawlin’ into bed alone,” he whispered into my hair. “It’s a sad feelin’ bein’ here sometimes. It makes me miss you. It only feels right when you’re here too.”
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea, Jess.” I tried to move away, but his biceps grew tighter into a bear hug, clutching me to his chest.
“Please stay. I just want to lay next to you tonight. Feel you beside me. Hold you. I need this, Al.” His heart beat faster through the fabric of my shirt. I needed to say no. Staying with him was a very bad idea.
“Ok.”
He released his tight grasp, letting his fingers graze over my arms. They skimmed across my breasts and settled into a comfortable embrace back over my stomach. His breath felt warm against my neck. I fought the internal struggle and relaxed against his chest again. He felt too damn good.
“Tell me about Paris,” Jess whispered in my hair.
My eyes darted to the old poster that was tacked to the wall with the yellowed tape; the one I had stared at night after night in this very bed. That picture failed to give it justice. “It’s beautiful.”
“More than Sprayberry?”
“Different than Sprayberry.” I thought about all the days I had spent wondering around the city; all the places I traveled. “I like the buildings. They’re so incredibly old. The history is just different when you walk down the streets. You see it and feel it in an entirely different way.”
“I don’t even know all the places you’ve been.”
“Mainly Paris. I saw Marseille. I took a train down to Avignon and Nice. Italy was so incredible. I loved Florence and Rome. A few months ago, I flew over and spent a weekend in London. I took a bus out to Stonehenge. I sent you postcards.”
“I know.” I felt his breath settle into the folds of my hair. “I kept ‘em all.”
“I draw bridges now.”
“What makes you do that?”
“I don’t know. Something about them being so large and vacant I guess. Even with all the people, they exist as lonely giants towering over everything.” Just like me, but I kept that part out. “Parc Monceau has this little red one. I must have sketched it twenty different times, from twenty different spots.” I felt his hand link through my fingers and rub over my knuckles as if he imagined the pencil clasped there in frantic motion.
“Parc dec Buttes Chaumont has this waterfall. They made it I think, but it’s still beautiful shoved in the middle of a city. A white marble gazebo looks over the water. It’s not a really a gazebo like the ones in Texas. They call it Temple de la Sibylle. There’s a cement bridge sticking out of the rocks. I’ve never seen anything like it. So I had to put it down on paper.”
“I like hearin’ you talk about it. Makes me know that you’re happy there. I can hear it in your voice.”
With his arms wrapped around my body, his words made me feel sad, not blissfully content the way Jess imagined. The thoughts caused me to pause for a moment before continuing with the story he wanted to hear. I talked of Gustave Eiffel’s suspension bridge and the one dubbed the suicide plunge. My voice grew faint with Montmartre Hill and Luxemburg Gardens. His breath grew shallow against my ear as I described every inch of the Louvre Museum.
Our bodies breathed the same, they breathed together, but I think they always did. Listening to Jess sleep, a peaceful feeling came over my body and whisked me away into my own dreams. A night full of haunting images flashed like snapshots from my subconscious; a colorful strobe of pictures very far from Paris.
I dreamed of the meadow full of green grass. The wind brushed my face. I heard the sound of laughter as I looked over my shoulder. A dark-haired boy tackled me to the ground. A set of blue eyes stared down at me with a wink. I smiled, feeling his lips press against my skin.
The intensity of the need for him spread through my body. I clung to the secret hidden images, never wanting them to stop. His hand teased up my leg and over my knee. His fingers spread across the smooth skin of my thighs. I wanted this. I wanted him. He pulled the hem of my shirt slowly over my head.
I was naked beneath him as he kissed me. It felt incredible. His mouth tugged at my bottom lip. He slipped his tongue over mine, leaving a sweet, minty trail. A warmth spread through my body, alerting my mind; making me more awake, more aware with each kiss that I wasn’t in some dream. I blinked back into his blue eyes, watching me from my childhood bed.
“Is this real?” I whispered.
“Yeah.” His lips moved over my bare skin. “You still think ‘bout it, don’t you?”
I was having a hard time staying focused as his mouth touched my right breast. My breath caught in my lungs. “We were supposed to forget.”
He lifted his eyes and watched my face. “I never was much good at forgettin’ you. I thought ‘bout us every day that you were gone. I thought ‘bout how this would feel.”
Those words broke through the shreds of my reserve. I wanted to see Jess tonight, but I needed to feel him too. Placing a hand on each side of his cheeks, I looked into his sweet face. The sincere admission caved whatever was left of right or wrong. I kissed him. I kissed him hard, giving him everything I could in that moment.