Making me forget everything.
We’re like this for minutes. For what feels like hours, until I can feel my phone buzzing in the back pocket of my jeans and I know one of my friends—probably Kaya—is looking for me. I shove Ash away and pull my phone out to see I have about a bazillion texts from her.
Autumn.
Where are you?
Why aren’t you answering your phone?
I’d accuse you of sneaking off with Ben but he’s sitting right next to me.
Autumn?
AUTUMN!
Where the hell are you??????????
Hurriedly I type out a text, batting Ash’s hands away from me when he tries to make a grab for my waist again. Sorry, be there in a minute!
The less I say, the better.
“I have to go,” I tell him once I shove my phone into my pocket again.
He doesn’t release his hold on me. Nope, he rests his hands on my waist and leans in, dropping delicate, damp kisses along my neck. Holy shit, that feels so good. “Not yet,” he murmurs against my throat.
I shove at him, but that’s like shoving at a steel wall. “Ash. Seriously.”
“There you go again with the seriously.” He lets me push him away, and he watches me, his swollen lips parted, his dark eyes hooded. His hair is a mess from my hands and he just had his tongue in my mouth only moments ago, and I can feel the warmth seep into me as I realize what just happened. I made out with Ash Davis. “When are you going to admit that you have a crush on me and not Ben?”
His question lures me out of my kiss-drunken state, and I blink at him, hating how he’s trying to make me confess I have a crush on him first. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you have a crush on me?” My heart is thumping so hard I swear it feels like it’s climbing up my throat, ready to fly out of my mouth when I speak.
His hand rises, and he tugs on his bottom lip. “I don’t know.”
I.
Don’t.
Know.
Frustration ripples through me, and I turn on my heel, making my way back into the gym where the dance is still going on. He follows after me, his fingers circling around my wrist, and I let him turn me around so I’m facing him.
“Why are you leaving?” He looks confused as hell.
Nice. I’m confused as hell too.
“Why can’t you say how you feel?” The words blurt out of me as if I have no control, but I need to know. Why can’t he tell me he likes me? What’s the big deal?
Of course, I can barely confess my feelings to him. I don’t understand my feelings for him either. I hate him.
I like him.
I’m drawn to him.
He repulses me.
Sometimes, I think I repulse him too.
“I don’t really know how to feel…anything,” he admits, and I know from the look on his face, his body language, that he means every word he says.
“Then neither do I,” I lie before I run back into the gym.
Fighting back tears the rest of the night.
Junior Year
Nine
I’m a different person this year. I don’t bother chasing after boys who don’t know how to feel anymore. Talk about a waste of my time. Instead, I stick with the good ones, the solid ones who are there for you no matter what. Who don’t push too hard and are easygoing to the point that sometimes I feel like the pushy one. The one who pokes and prods and makes too many demands.
But Ben Murray doesn’t ever seem to mind. We’ve been together for six months. Since March, when I asked him to the Sadie’s dance and he eagerly said yes. After the homecoming dance fiasco aka makeout session with Ash, I sort of withdrew from boys in general. I kept them all at a distance, figuring that none of them knew how to feel. I considered talking to Mom about it, but she’d only make excuses for Ash, so that wouldn’t work. No way in hell could I talk to Dad. He had a thing for Ash I didn’t quite understand, plus he doesn’t want to hear me talking about kissing his future star quarterback.
Not that I want to tell Dad anything like that.
I fed Kaya bits and pieces but never told her exactly what happened between Ash and me. How could I? I still don’t quite understand it myself.
So I focused on school for the rest of my sophomore year, just as my parents wanted, and my report cards reflected that. I’m in student leadership this year, along with still being on the cheer team. I’m also taking advanced courses, so my homework load is major, but I’m making it happen. Ben’s a big help. He’s really smart and we actually go on study dates. I know my parents don’t believe that’s actually what we’re doing, but guess what?
That’s actually what we’re doing.
Yeah, we kiss. Some nights we kiss a lot, and there are wandering hands involved too. I refuse to let him kiss me on campus. That’s gross. We’ll hug and hold hands. Everyone knows we’re a couple, and we’re at that age where a lot of us in my class have been in long-term relationships.
But I’ve never told Ben I love him. He’s never said it to me either. I have friends who are in relationships where they say I love you within a week. That’s moving way too fast for me. Almost like they say it only because they think they have to.
Love should be earned. And once earned, it should be considered precious. A gift. You give it away too freely, and it becomes meaningless.
Do I still see Ash at school? Of course I do. He’s on the varsity football team this year, our quarterback, and I’m right there on the sidelines, cheering him—them—on. We’ve played four games so far this season and we’ve won all four of them. In fact, I’m walking to my car right now after a game, exhaustion making my steps slow. Fridays are the worst. The long day in class, the time after school where we’re hanging out in the cheer room and getting ready before we finally go out and cheer at the game.
It’s past ten, and my car is in the side lot at the high school where no one else really parks. My coach is still up in the cheer room, and I walked out to the parking lot with Kaya, who’s also on the team with me this year. But she already took off with Jaden, who was waiting for her in his black Dodge Charger.
Meaning I’m all alone.
The school campus is sprawling, and this particular parking lot leads to the school bus and van parking area as well. No one’s really out here at this time of night. The band room isn’t too far from the cheer room, and I can hear some of the band members still calling to each other. See a few parents waiting in their parked cars for their kids to come out so they can leave. Normally I’m gone by now, but I helped our coaches put away some of our equipment, a duty those of us on the team trade off every time there’s a home game.
Usually I leave with Ben. We go out for pizza with our friends, or sometimes we sit in his car at the park close to school, where we usually end up kissing for a while. But he’s out of town this weekend. He’s at some sort of bonding retreat for the basketball team and won’t be back until Sunday night, so I won’t see him at all. Which is probably a good thing. I need to clean my room. Catch up on laundry. All that boring stuff I usually push aside, which aggravates my parents to no end.
I hear a familiar voice call my name and I stop, glancing over my shoulder, but no one’s there. Uneasiness sends a shiver down my spine and I look around, spotting a giant man sitting in an equally giant truck. I recognize him. A parent of one of the boys on the band’s drum line. He doesn’t know my name, so I know it’s not him calling me, but it’s reassuring to know someone is out here. I can scream bloody murder and he’ll probably come running.
I’ve started walking again when I hear my name once more. Louder this time. Coming from my left. I turn, squinting into the darkness, and that’s when I see a flame light up. A match. It illuminates his face, the sharp angle of his jaw. I recognize those dark eyes and the equally dark hair, and everything inside of me lights up like that match he’s still holding.
Asher Davis, sitting in his vehicle.
“What do you want?” I call out to him, sounding completely put out. I don’t want to talk to him.