Shelly saw him for who he is now, even then. She knew he was a force to be reckoned with. And I thought he was captivating . . .
“Are you going to wear that?” she asks, doodling on a random page in my physics textbook.
Looking down, I grimace. “Well, I was going to. It’s all I have.
“I have something cuter.”
I cross my arms and roll my eyes. “I don’t need cuter. I need warmth.”
“I think Alexander will warm you up just fine.”
“Shelly,” I reprimand while staring at her in shock.
“He’s hot. You do realize that, right? And he’ll be more than happy to keep you warm. I see how he looks at you.”
I turn back to the window, embarrassment replacing the chill. Curious, I ask, “How is it?”
“The look?”
“Yeah.”
“Like you’re everything.”
Our eyes hold steady as the words drift between us. Feeling the heaviness of her tone, I pull the sweater tighter around me, the buttons folding in on themselves. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s the truth. But I have a feeling you haven’t told me everything.”
“I have.”
“A boy doesn’t look at a girl he barely knows like that.”
“How do you know?” I meet her eyes again.
“Because I’m not dumb, Sara Jane. What’s really going on?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure about that?”
Love floats around my head, but I sweep it away. “I want to say I like him, but I don’t know him.”
“He seems to know you.” She turns and picks up her jacket before putting it on. “Look, if you really don’t know him, be careful. He seems to have intentions for you even though you’ve only just learned his last name.”
Kingwood—His last name.
King—His preferred name.
“I’ll be careful.” I smile, the mood lightening between us. “But you do the same. Chad seems nice, but don’t get yourself in trouble.”
“What’s the fun in that?” She smiles, her bubbly self back intact as we sneak out of the house. Down the street, two unlikely people have become friends. Alexander and Chad are waiting for us on Chad’s tailgate.
Chad is in our grade and finally made the move to talk to Shelly instead of staring at her another year. Shelly may be boy crazy, but more than that, she’s Chad crazy. He’s cute with curly dark blond hair, trendy dark-framed glasses, and his body finally caught up to his age. I think every girl noticed him this year, but he still only had eyes for one. His dream girl became his girlfriend and they’ve been an item ever since.
Alexander hops off and walks to meet us halfway when we round the corner, making my heart flutter from the thrill. It may be cool out tonight but looking at him, watching his swagger and confidence in full effect walking straight toward me, heats me on the inside.
“Hey,” he says, taking my hand in his and kissing me on the cheek.
“Hi.”
Shelly wraps her arms around Chad’s neck, and they kiss like they’ve dated longer than a few weeks. But what do I know about couples and how they kiss? I had a terrible kiss at fifteen and never tongue deep. Looking into the elusive Mr. Kingwood’s eyes as they shine from the streetlight above, I’m hoping to change that.
Shelly turns to us with a big grin, and asks, “Where should we go?”
And the kissing moment passes just like that, the bubble popped.
Everyone turns to Alexander, his presence naturally commanding attention and authority. A rush of pride runs through me, my heart reacting by thudding louder in my chest.
Alexander says, “Here’s good. Just in case her parents come out looking, we’ll be close.”
Shelly’s disappointment is heard in her huff. “I was hoping we’d go somewhere.”
Chad adds, “I think King is right.” His use of King weighs the final decision as if there’s not a discussion to be had. “We can listen to some music in the cab, if you want?”
Listening to music means making out, but it’s a good effort on their part to play it off. Nodding, Shelly says, “I’d like that.”
Alexander shoves his hands in his pockets, and eyes me. “Want to go for a walk?”
“Sure.” My response must show my disappointment as well. I know I shouldn’t want to, but he’s got my stomach tied up in knots. It’s like the slowest burn ever. My insides hot like an inferno for him. Why does he torture me so?
“Stop torturing that lip.” He angles down in front of me and grins. “We have time, Sara Jane.”
“Time for what?”
“Everything that you’re so disappointed we’re not doing.” Lifting my chin so we’re looking into each other’s eyes, he whispers, “We have time: hours, days, and years. I promise you.”
“You’re making me a promise of years?”
“I made that promise long before now. We have all the time in the world to sin together.”
He makes me strong, his strength bleeding into my veins. “Is that what you are, Alexander? Are you a sin waiting to happen?”
“I’m a sin waiting to be confessed.”
“Then take me to church because I want to kiss you.”
Nothing less than what can be called a smirk shapes his lips. The cup of his palms flatten to my cheeks. “I’ve been told you’re bad for me, but you’re so damn good for my ego.” In a sudden rush of passion, his mouth crashes over mine, and I’m lost to the bliss of his lips. When his tongue pushes into my mouth, I freeze. My eyes go wide, and if he wasn’t holding me in place, I would have vanished in this moment of horror. Tilting back to look into my eyes, his brows curve in concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I try to back away but his hold on my shoulders tightens.
“Tell me what’s wrong?”
“I just . . . I don’t . . .” I look down, wanting to run away, to hide from the humiliation I feel.
“You don’t what, Sara Jane?”
Tears burn hot in my eyes. I will them away before they fall, making me even more self-conscious than I already am. My bottom lip quivers and my inexperience cause the tears to overlap my lids. I close my eyes, and whisper, “I’m sorry.”
I’m brought to his chest, his arms wrapping around my back. With my cheek pressed to his chest, I lower my head, and breathe him in to calm my upset heart. “I’m sorry,” he whispers with his lips to the back of my head. “I’m sorry. I’ll go slower next time.” A kiss is placed where his breath just left. “You’re so pure, my little firefly. Happy birthday.”
“Firefly?” I ask on a shaky breath that trails into calm.
“That’s what you are to me.”
I must look a complete mess with mascara running down my face, but his words comfort me and make me feel cherished. Good or bad, I like the way he makes me feel carefree and loved, like I matter. Not holding back anymore, I look up and ask, “Why me?”
. . . Squeezing me tighter, he kisses me on the head. Good and evil sometimes blur just like black and white, leaving us in the gray. It doesn’t matter if he’s going to heaven or hell because the night of my eighteenth birthday, I decided I’d be right by his side, happy to live in the gray as long as I have him.
7
Sara Jane