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“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” It felt wrong to apologize, because I wasn’t sorry for wanting to kiss her, but I was sorry I’d made her uncomfortable. I didn’t want whatever this was to end before it even started.
“Oh.” She looked down again. “Right.”
Shit, we’re getting our wires crossed all over the place.
I decided to lay it out. “Juliet.” I grabbed her hand, tugging her closer, forcing her to look at me. “I’m sorry if I made things awkward. I won’t try to kiss you again if you don’t want me to.” Her friendship meant more to me than a quick make-out session.
She blinked. “It’s not you. It wasn’t you, I mean. It was…not there.”
It took me a minute. Shit, her uncle came home about five seconds later. How dense was I?
“You didn’t want to get caught?”
Finally, a half-smile formed on her gorgeous lips. “Sort of. Yeah.”
I stepped closer, backing her up against the lockers. Her breathing sped up, drawing my attention to the hint of cleavage bared by the V of her T-shirt. Her pale skin was flushed and dotted with little freckles. I had the sudden urge to dip my tongue into the hollow at the base of her neck and run it over her collarbones, tasting every inch of exposed, creamy skin.
Not here.
It was almost impossible to pull away. But if I got caught making out with a girl at school, they’d notify the home, and best-case scenario, I’d be stripped of all privileges. Worst case—I’d be moved to a different home and seeing Juliet again would be almost impossible.
Already happened to me once before with a girl at another school. I was curious and she was willing. We got caught making out. Later that night, I was given fifteen minutes to pack my Hefty bag and shipped off someplace new.
I wasn’t ready to disappear from Juliet’s life yet, so I backed away and ran my hand through my hair instead of kissing her senseless the way I wanted.
“I’m supposed to be down in the cafeteria until first bell.” It was embarrassing to admit that to her, but I really wanted to stay out of trouble. Even when I was out of the house, it still felt like I was in prison.
“Oh, okay.” She stared up at me. “Am I allowed too?”
“Yeah, I don’t see why not.” Lots of kids other than the ones from the group home seemed to hang out there in the morning.
I grabbed her bag again, but before I slung it over my shoulder, she stopped me. “How’s your arm today?”
“I’m fine.”
She gestured toward the locker. “Did you need to grab anything?”
I grinned at her. “I found what I was looking for.” The tone of my voice left no doubt I was talking about her.
Her cheeks flushed pink. “I’m glad.”
No one looked up when we walked into the cafeteria together. I slid into a seat at a table in the back near the windows and Juliet sat across from me.
I had an insane urge to pull her into my lap. I was convinced having her warm body weight pressing into me and wrapping my arms around her would keep every bad thing in my life at bay.
To keep myself focused and out of trouble, I asked about our English assignment—writing a personal narrative—and she shyly handed over a couple of stapled-together pages.
“What about yours?” she asked.
I hesitated. With all the chaos at the home, I hadn’t delved too deep with my essay. It was too damn depressing to relive all my defining moments.
Finally her pleading eyes convinced me to hand it over. Mine was scribbled in my blocky handwriting because I still hadn’t gotten access to the computer at the house.
The defining moment in my life was the death of my mother. Before that my mother and I lived in an apartment not far from my two aunts. We didn’t have a lot, but life was good. I never doubted that I was safe and loved.
Fearing what was coming next, I swallowed hard and continued.
Everything changed one night when my mother went out with her younger sister to celebrate her birthday. Neither of them made it home.
My aunt woke me in the morning. I’ll never forget the blank look on her face when she said my mother had gone to heaven and wouldn’t be coming back for me.
Safety, comfort, security all disappeared in an instant. I packed a few favorite toys and clothes to stay with Aunt Susan and her husband until they could “figure out something else.”
Except for cousin Debbie, they were the only family I had left, so I wasn’t sure what there was to “figure out.” Where did they want me to go? Where did orphaned girls end up when no one wanted them?
It was a short ride to my new home and I remember looking at the familiar house in an unfamiliar way as we pulled into the driveway.
