“No, it’s not a class assignment. It’s
something…extra…yeah. Something Mrs.
Rowe asked me to do.”
Beth’s shoulders relax like she received a pardon from a death sentence. “Can I read it?”
Besides my teacher, no one’s asked to read my stuff before and I pause…long enough that HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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Beth raises her eyebrows. If anyone’s going to read this, I’d prefer it to be her. Something tells me she’d understand. “Sure.”
“Print it out for me.” Beth plops on my bed and curls up around the pillows.
Her blue eyes survey me as she teases me
with a slumberous look. My jeans get tight and I want to join her on the bed, badly, but I’ll show restraint even though she’s going to kill me in the process. “Plan on staying for a while?”
“Did you have other plans?”
No. “I’m going to sleep soon. We do have
school tomorrow.”
“I’ve shared a bed way smaller than this for the past two years. Trust me, I’m the queen of not touching if that’s what you’re concerned about. Go on, print it out.”
“Not touching and sharing with who?”
Beth chuckles and shakes her head at the
same time. “Jealous much? I think you were printing something out for me.”
Just go with it, Ryan. Like other predators, Beth can smell fear. Without another word, I print out the pages and she snatches them from my hand. I stare at her. She stares at me. “I’m HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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not going to read it with you watching me.
That’s weird.”
“You’re in my room, Beth. You walked a
half mile to get here. On a Wednesday. In the middle of the night. Uninvited.” I should define for her what weird is.
“Do you want me to go?”
“No.” I don’t. Somehow nothing has ever
felt more right.
That evil smile slips onto her face. “Am I the first girl to be in your bed?”
Yes. I take a deep breath and return to the computer. I’ve dated girls. Been exclusive with a few and I’ve been respectful enough to proceed slowly to each base. There are some bases I have yet to reach. A girl in my bed being one of them. If she’s determined to be here, I’m determined to be okay with it and not let the nerves show. I guess my zombie found a girl he likes and wants to throttle at the same time.
“THIS IS GOOD, RYAN.” Beth’s distant voice snaps me out of the story and my hands stop tapping on the keyboard.
“Thanks,” I say. Beth lies on her stomach, propped up on her elbows. Her cleavage is HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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beautifully exposed. My eyes avert to the floor.
“No, really. It’s good. Like this could be in a bookstore good. I totally get this guy.”
Yeah, so do I. “I finaled in a state writing competition.” The words come out naturally, as if I normally tell the world this sort of thing.
Beth flips through the pages. “I can see why.
Whoever judged the winner must have been on meth not to choose you.”
I glance around the room, waiting for the lightning to hit. Did she pay me a compliment?
“The winner hasn’t been announced. There’s another round of competition in a couple of weeks.”
“Oh,” she says. “Then I’m sure you’ll win.”
My stomach hollows out as I turn off my
computer. Yeah, I’m writing the short story, but I still haven’t signed up for the competition.
How can I? I’ve got games that day and Dad…
My thoughts trail off. I’m bowing out of a competition—an event I could win. Would the rush of winning the writing competition be the same as winning a baseball game or a dare?
Guess I’ll never know.
When I turn back, Beth is stretched out on HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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her back with her head against the pillows.
She’s kicked her shoes off and folded her hands on her stomach. The belly button ring sparkles in the light. She stacked my story neatly on the bedside table.
We’re dating. Friends who are dating and
who will eventually kiss. Four days could be considered eventually…yeah, I’m not stupid enough to believe that.
“I’m going to bed,” I say, giving her the opportunity to leave.
“Do you normally sleep in all your clothes?”
she asks.
No. I usually take off my shirt. “This is safer.”
“Okay.”
Okay. I flip off the light and climb into bed.
Taking a cue from Beth, I stay on top of the covers. The heat from her body warms mine.
She’s right. She can lie in bed without
touching. I inhale and her sweet scent envelops me.
Last year, our science teacher dispelled the myth that sex crosses the minds of guys every seven seconds. I’m going to have to disagree with him on that. My fingers itch with the need HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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to caress Beth’s soft skin. I want my lips whispering against hers.