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"I'm surprised to see you here. Jim said you guys haven't really hung out since junior high when you used to ride bikes together everywhere. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled you were here, just surprised."
Justin set the beer down on the patio's railing and leaned against it. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I was hoping to see you."
I was thankful it was dark, so he couldn't see my red face. "Me?"
I'd been thinking about Justin nonstop since I met him that night on the patio. We'd been back to Jim's a few times but hadn't seen him again. Either he was gone, or his car was in the driveway, and he didn't come out.
"Yes." He gave me that crooked smile that made my panties melt. He was wearing that jean jacket again with the color flipped up. His hair brushed the collar, and I wanted to run my hands through it.
I was used to guys that dressed more like Dick - preppy and liked to flaunt their money. Sarah and I went to a private school, and many of the kids there were assholes with money. You could probably say I was one of those over-privileged kids since I had a car already and my parents made a lot of money, but I liked to think I was pretty down to earth. I never believed I should get special treatment because my family had money.
"You're cute. I thought maybe you'd want to go out sometime."
"Yes!" I replied, instantly horrified I sounded too eager and willing. I shivered then, and he took off his jacket, placing it over my shoulders.
“There you go. You look cold.”
I smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
"There's a swing over in the corner in the yard. Let's go over there where it's quieter." He took my hand and led me off the patio and over to the corner of the yard. He sat down and put his arm along the back, grinning at me as I sat down and nestled against him. I was no longer cold in my off-the-shoulder t-shirt and Guess jeans between his jacket and body heat.
We didn't talk for a bit, swinging slowly and looking up at the night sky. It was a clear night, and you could see every star, plain as day.
I couldn’t believe I was sitting out here with Justin. I had to be dreaming.
4
JUSTIN
It’d been a long time since I just sat outside with a pretty girl. Maybe when I was thirteen? Then it was all about getting them alone and at least making out, having them let me cop a feel, and as I got older, having sex with them.
It felt good to be with Tiffany, though, not even talking. Her presence calmed me and soothed me. My life was shit, and I had enough chaos between my mom and dad. So it was nice to be with someone easy to be around.
It didn't hurt that she was a knockout as well. I tried not to be obvious in checking her out. Still, her frosted hair in a high ponytail revealed her neck, and I wanted to kiss it - to plant a big ole hickey right there to see she belonged to me.
Something told me this girl wasn't a fan of hickies.
When I saw that asshole hitting on Tiffany, I saw red. Her discomfort was clearly written all over her face, and I couldn't believe it took me threatening to hit him for him to take the hint she wasn't interested. I hated guys like him; they had money and thought everyone owed them everything - that they were better than everyone.
That was why Jim and I hadn't hung out past junior high. He went to private school and became friends with a whole new crowd. He never looked down on me or treated me differently, but we didn't have much in common anymore. He hung out with the preppy kids, and I was just a lowly grit.
I didn’t care. It never bothered me before. I didn’t give two shits about what anyone thought about me.
Until I met Tiffany. Now I worried she wouldn’t think I was good enough for her.
“So when do you want to go out?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.
She turned and smiled at me. "Whenever. I mean, I have to check my schedule at Blockbuster first, but I'm pretty free this summer."
I nodded. “I work most weekends at the roller rink.” I rubbed my neck with the back of my hand. “And I have band practice.”
"What? Are you in a band? What do you play?" Her eyes were wide, making me grin. I loved talking about music and my band.
"I play guitar, and we haven't had any gigs yet, but soon I hope. But, to be honest, I hope that band is my ticket out of here."
Her shoulders dropped. “You want to leave?”
"Tiffany, I'm going to be real with you. My home life sucks. My mom is a bitch. When she's not sleeping around, she's at home screaming at me. My dad is an alcoholic, and my mom kicked him out years ago. He was verbally abusive. I don't really see him anymore. So there's not much for me here."
