Unable to breathe nor bear the pain of how fiercely his tickles dig into my skin, I cave.
“Yes, yes! I’ll stop hiding. Just stop!”
Defeated, I lay there panting, dying from lack of air under the blanket and peek my head out of the covers as a white flag to show he wins the battle. Resituating myself upright, I tuck the blanket under my arms and around my body enough to cover my boobs. He removes his hands and sets them on his lap while he stares at me with those magnetic dark brown eyes.
“There you are!”
“Hi,” I say bashfully.
“Hi,” he chuckles.
His smile fades, as a long pause settles between us, neither of us knowing what to say next as his strong leather and mint cologne wraps its tendrils around me. Last night’s unanswered texts hang in the unspoken silence and my brain draws a blank on any other topic.
“You didn’t text me back last night. I was worried. You didn’t even answer when I tried calling you…and you always answer when I call…”
His expression is serious as his eyes search mine for answers, the intensity making my heart flutter.
“I’m sorry. Right after I texted you, my parents got home and,of course, they were thrilled about me getting into Charle’s and wanted to celebrate, so I got distracted. By the time I got back upstairs to my bedroom and saw that you called and texted me, I figured it was too late to get back to you.”
His gaze softens upon hearing my excuse.
“I was still up, you know. Plus, I don’t care if you wake me up. I’ve never cared about that, so call me back next time.” He shoves my shoulder playfully.
I keep quiet, unsure of what to say back. A new tension, something heated and unfamiliar, settles between us, setting my nerves on edge.
“You know...that way I don’t go to sleep worrying you got murdered or went insane from how seriously youtake everything.” His elbow nudges my leg in a joking manner to break the silence.
And just like that, the tension disappears, bringing us back to our normal selves. I roll my eyes and give him a swift kick in the side. Well, as much as I could from that angle.
“Well, as you can see, I’m fine. Now get out of my room, perv, so I can change.”
I stick my tongue out at him. Complying, he stands, chuckles, and walks out the door.
My body immediately relaxes when the door closes. Wow, I didn’t realize how raised my shoulders were during that whole encounter. Bending my neck from side to side to stretch it, I throw my sheets off and stand up to change.
A noise catches my attention behind me making me whip my head around.
Was that a door click? Was he peeking in to watch me change? What the heck is going on with him right now?
If I’m being honest with myself, I’m flattered, but still…
People suspect correctly that I've never had a kiss, or even held hands with a boy, but I’ve never admitted it out loud.
My first crush was in the eighth grade on an extremely shy and intelligent, beautiful dark-skinned boy named Julius. By that time, most of the other girls already had their first kisses out of the way, but not me. So, with the junior high dance coming up, I was hoping Julius would ask me to go with him so I could get my first kiss too. Instead, he asked me to ask Shirley to go with him. Of course, she said yes.
They shared their first kiss together at that dance. I was unlucky enough to catch it from the back of the gymnasium where I sat on the bleachers alone, my stomach twisting in knots and moisture clouding my vision.
I went home from the dance early and cried the whole way to my mom, making it a point to avoid dances after that. I’d rather study or hang out with my parents than ever feel that pain again. Not to mention, no one’s ever asked me to go with them to a dance before, not even Ben.
Now Ben’s never had any trouble getting dates. Nine times out of ten, girls are the ones asking him out. And he always says yes rather enthusiastically, like he expects it to happen. I confronted him about it once, but he denied it, leading me to believe his ego wouldn’t let him admit that he liked all the attention.
The door whips open, pulling me out of my reverie and causing me to jerk my head violently.
“Char, what the hell is the hold-up?”
“Ben, I could’ve been naked! Who goes around whipping doors open like that?”
“It’s been like fifteen minutes. If you were still naked, I'd consider you an elderly lady who would’ve needed my assistance to get dressed anyways because you were taking so long.”
