Chapter 24
Over the past week and a half, Romeo and I have seen two late night movies and gone to a twenty-four hour diner for coffee three times. After each outing—two after band practice—we fog up the windows of my car or his van. Then there are the late night calls. Sometimes they’re deep and thoughtful and revealing. I could listen to Romeo talk about his musical, boxing grandfather for hours. The only person he respects more is his hard working, single mother. He understands my conflicted feelings about my father—the man he is compared to the man he was. Other times we stray into insignificant and silly. I text him pictures of my drum stick collection. He raps old Celtic songs to me over the phone. We argue over music. He likes the new wave of folksy stuff like Mumford and Sons and The Black Keys. I’m into classics like the Beastie Boys and Nirvana. Strangely, our taste in music rarely connects. Yet when we’re together, we exist on an island for two where sincerity and benevolence are intertwined in the warm breeze. And while I try to tell myself our secrecy is keeping things slow, my heart feels like it’s falling way too fast.
Especially when he touches me.
And as usual, he’s trying to touch me as we walk through the theater parking lot.
He reaches for my hand. I smack his shoulder. “Stop it before someone sees,” I hiss then add, “You already held it for the entire movie.” And did sexy things with his fingers the whole time. Who knew the brush of a thumb on a wrist could be hot? I never imagined such a thing before. Now I’ll be imagining it all the time.
He shrugs. “We’re already here together. So what if someone sees us?”
“Well hand holding is not as easy to explain as two friends going to a movie.”
He gives me a level look but doesn’t reply until we get to the end row near his van. Then his reply comes in the form of pressing me against the cold side of his vehicle and kissing me hard and long until I’m gasping for breath. He steps back, panting into the cool night air. “Did that feel like a friend?”
Under the dim parking lights, the hard lines of his face twisted in anger make him look sexier than usual. And his usual is pretty damn sexy. I yank a lapel of his black wool coat and he’s close again. “That felt like the guy I can’t stop imagining about.”
His dark eyes flare. “Tuesday, you should come to the dorm after practice.”
“What about Justin?”
He shrugs. “He always stays until the bar closes.”
I give him a skeptical look.
He places a hand on the side of the van next to my head and leans near my ear. “I’ll play the fiddle for you.”
Now that is more temptation than I can handle. “Alright, you win,” I say, thinking I’ll have to park a couple doors down because of Marcus.
His lips brush the skin of my neck. “Early night right?”
I nod as a shiver runs through me. I’m not sure getting home after midnight constitutes an early night. “Eight o’clock class tomorrow morning.”
He straightens his arm and looks down at me. “I’m booked tomorrow so except for Calculus…” He sighs. “It’s going to be a long wait for Tuesday night.”
This is why I’m falling so fast. His wistful eyes and impatience to be with me. The almost tangible pull between us. The dark scruff of his jaw. His thumb caressing my wrist. The tone of his voice when he talks about his family. Okay, every single thing about him has me falling too fast.
“Riley?” Someone shouts across the row of cars.
I push away from the van and Romeo to see Marcus staring at me from over the roof of his car. His roommate, Dan or something, stares too.
Shit. “Hey Marcus.” I step toward my car parked next to Romeo’s van. “What’s up? What movie did you guys see?”
He says some title but all I’m aware of is the burn of Romeo’s narrowed eyes on me. I’m hardly aware of Marcus’s question about what movie I watched, but as his words come closer, I break my stare with Romeo.
“So what movie did you guys see?” Marcus asks again mere feet from me.
“Later Riley,” Romeo brusquely says from behind.
I wave a hand but don’t turn around. “Um, some crazy action thing. I can’t even remember the name of it.” Admitting Romeo and I went to some chick flick spells date clearer than us standing close in the parking lot.
Romeo’s van starts and his lights shine over us as he backs out. A long honk sounds before he drives off.
Marcus’s eyes turn to slits. “Hey Don, could you give me a minute here.” He holds out his keys.
“It’s late. I need to get home,” I say, desperately not wanting to have the coming conversation.
Marcus shakes the keys. “I just want to talk to you for a few minutes.”
He steps closer after Don takes the keys and walks off. “How long has this been going on? Is he the reason your shirt was backwards that morning? Did you make up that shit about him wanting you to quit?” He swallows tightly. “Is this why you’ve been ignoring me?”
I want to snap who I date is none of business but the hurt etched into his usually amiable features stops me. “You know why I haven’t called you. It has nothing to do with Romeo. Have you even thought about what I told you about Chloe?”
“Chloe was a mistake,” he says firmly.
“Really?” I cross my arms and give him a sardonic look. “Because half of our high school could have slept with the other half, but the only person you seemed to ever notice messing around was Chloe.”
His head rears back as if I slapped him.
“It’s true. You’ve been obsessed with Chloe’s sex life or at least the rumors of it since sophomore year. Why is that, Marcus?”
“B-because I was worried about you.”
I shake my head but let it go. Hopefully, my words will get him to face his feelings about Chloe, but I decide to be honest with him about Romeo. Hiding a relationship is one thing. Lying about it feels very wrong. Like the dirty little secret thing is true.
“Listen Marcus, Romeo and I just started dating. It’s kind of complicated with the whole band thing so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything to anyone.”
“You’re the last person I would expect to fall for some band asswipe,” he sneers.
“There’s a lot more to him than who he is on stage,” I retort. “I have to go.” I hit unlock and whip open my door.
Marcus’s fingers wrapping over the window stop me from closing the door. “We’re still friends, right?”
I sigh. “Marcus, we’ll always be friends. I just think…we should take a break from each other for a while.” I pull on the door and he lets go. His face is a mournful picture through the glass.
Driving home, my thoughts jump from Romeo to Marcus then back to Romeo. I’m trying not to hurt Marcus, but I don’t know how to deal with his misplaced crush. But I may have hurt Romeo by jumping away from him and acting like there was nothing between us. I’m not sure if Marcus will keep his mouth shut, and I’m starting not to care.
I pull into the garage but instead of going inside right away, I text Romeo. Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to go down like that. I did tell him the truth.
I’m two steps into the house when he texts back. It’s alright. Total ambush. I hate to admit it, but thinking that he was your boyfriend for the last three months had me jealous more than anything else.
It’s stupid how his jealousy has butterflies swarming in my stomach. I’m thinking of what to text back when the light flicks on and Jamie wanders into the kitchen. I almost drop my phone. “What are you doing up?”
Still wearing jeans and a sweater, she opens the fridge. “Watching TV.” At least she’s wearing bright pink princess slippers with crowns over the toes.
“Do you know what time it is?”
She shrugs and reaches for a can of pop.
“Put that back. It’s after one in the morning. Where is mom?”
“Sleeping,” she says snottily, dropping the can with a thud. She’s hardly every snotty, but then she rarely stays up past eleven.
“Mom went to bed while you were watching TV?”
Jamie shrugs. “She was tired.”
Unfucking believable. I’m so mad it takes every bit of control for me calmly to say, “Go brush your teeth and get dressed for bed. I’ll be up in a second to tuck you in.”
She frowns but scampers out of the kitchen, which is a mess. Dirty dishes cover the entire back counter while food boxes and papers cover the island. Crap. I’m going to have to clean that up tonight or it will be there until tomorrow afternoon.
I unclench my fists and stuff my phone in my pocket. I don’t really have time to text. On my way upstairs, I pass piles of stuff loaded on the stairs waiting for someone—me—to take up. I grab a stack of towels, rush up the stairs, and then pause in the bathroom door. The mess inside halts me in the doorway. Dirty towels are piled in the corner because the hamper is overflowing. Toothpaste smears the sink and spots the mirror. The trash basket in the corner is bursting to the brim with tissues and empty toilet paper rolls.
I didn’t grow up like this. I grew up in a clean, organized house.
Jamie should too.
This disaster of a house didn’t happen overnight. Five dates in nine days and I get a sister up in the wee hours of the morning and a house in shambles. I stuff towels in the bathroom closet as the realization I need to slow things down with Romeo hits me full force. I love being with him, but my mother and sister need me more than I need a budding romance.
I already agreed to Tuesday then Saturday the entire band is going out for my birthday, but after this week, Romeo and I are going to have to slow things down for real. But there’s always the phone and the computer and school.
Calculus III never sounded so good.