Page 72 of Just Me


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He had left before all of us to report for duty, but there was something in his manner that concerned me. He was up to something.

I waited in the crowd ready to capture Bastian's fifteen minutes of fame on film. With a bit of fanfare, the moment arrived.

The head was larger than I remembered, the long ears twisted at odd angles, the eyes—a shade of blue that didn't occur naturally anywhere in the world—had an almost satanic look to them. The fur was pink, a hot pink like the color of Pepto Bismol, but it was the smile—the big full smile with those two front teeth—that sent a chill through me. Yes, the love of my life was dressed like a giant rabbit—the Easter bunny on crack. Our school mascot, the Fighting Falcon, was embarrassing but even that didn't hold a candle to this. He was having a hard time walking both with the huge feet and because his stomach now extended quite a bit. It threw off his balance.

I tried—okay not very hard—but I did try not to laugh, but I just couldn't help it, especially knowing what lurked underneath that crazy costume. He waved, to me or the crowd, with an awkward motion. It took a while, but he finally reached the ribbon. Coach Farlay was there to help hold those scissors in Bastian’snew giant mitts and seconds later the ribbon slowly floated to the ground on either side of the entrance. Bastian's fifteen minutes of fame were over.

I took as many pictures as I could, and was just putting the camera away when I felt overly large plush hands wrapping around me. Before I could react, I was upside down, over the shoulder of the demonic bunny, being carried off to the sound of the crowd roaring with laughter. How Bastian managed to carry me over his shoulder with the head he sported, I never knew.

We reached the back of the school when he placed me down.

“Can you take this off?”Heasked as he held up his one paw-covered hand. I didn't hesitate and noticed the key he had linked on his wrist with an elastic band. Reaching for it, I unlocked the door which led into the boys' locker room. When we reached the lockers, Bastian turned to me still wearing that hideous head. I tried to take a step back from him—up close, damn, the bunny really was creepy-looking—but those arms wrapped around me and drew me close.

“Kiss me, Lark.”

“No way.”

He tilted the head, an eerily human gesture coming from such a freakish figure, “You sure?”

“I'll kiss the man under the costume.”

That was all the encouragement he needed—he pulled the head off. The face I loved was drenched in sweat. I wiped it away from his eyes.

“You're a good sport. Was it totally terrible?”

“I won't be doing this again, but getting to steal you from the crowd made it all tolerable.”

“Why don't you change and we can go have some fun.”I suggested.

“Why don't you help me?”

A smile touched my lips and my blood started to burn.“I suppose it's the least I could do.”

“You can say that again.”

I glanced at the door leading into the hall wondering if it was locked. Bastian clearly knew where my thoughts were.“It's locked. No one's coming in.” He moved into me, his expression turning naughty. “Didn't you say you wanted to be able to make love whenever the mood struck?”

Yes, I did. Tingles lit down my arms and my fingers trembled as I helped him from his costume and he was just as eager to help me from my clothes.

“I need a shower,” he said against my lips as he steered us through the locker room to the showers. He managed to turn on the water while his lips nibbled on the corner of my mouth. It was crazy, what we were doing, and yet I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. He stepped me backward into the spray of the shower, the sensation of the water on my overheated skin, coupled with what we were doing and where, made me nearly mad with desire. And when he pushed me up against the tile wall before his mouth closed over mine, my head went dizzy as lust curled in my belly. He was slightly out of control, his tongue tasting me with such intensity, before he lowered himself down my body until he was kneeling in front of me. Our eyes locked as he leaned forward and touched me with his tongue. My knees went weak but Bastian's strong arms kept me standing as his mouth fully tasted me, bringing me to the brink, before he stood. He lifted me up and as soon as I wrapped my legs around his waist, he pushed into me. I came hard.

“Look at me.”Hedemanded.

And when I did, he pulled out of me just as his face froze seconds before he came on my stomach.

***

The art show was a week after Bastian's debut as the bunny from hell. On the day of the event, Mr. and Dr. Wright both had to work, but they asked that we take lots of pictures. When we were deciding on who was driving in what car, a look definitely passed between Caden and Poppy. There was that undercurrent again, but I couldn't decide if it was fed by dislike or if was something quite the opposite. Poppy would talk when she was ready.

Bastian drove since I wasn't comfortable driving in Manhattan. While Dominic and Caden chatted in the back seat, I sat thinking about the piece I had selected. I hadn't told anyone what piece I was showing and though I was excited about all of my friends seeing it, Bastian's reaction was the one I was most interested in.

Once we parked, we made our way into the library and followed the signs for the show. It was huge, far grander than previous years. A central bulletin board in the exhibit listed the artist, the title of their piece and what kiosk it was located on. Poppy found my name first and went into the exhibit room as the rest of us followed after her. Bastian and I were the last to reach my piece. Our friends were already studying it, but when Bastian approached, they parted for him so he could see it unobstructed.

I’dsketched him in charcoal leaning over the hood of the Impala that first night I visited the garage. His arms were extended as he worked and his face was in profile: its lines taut in concentration. Every detail was included, right down to the tattoos on his arms and, as Ms. Whitney pointed out when she saw it, my love for Bastian simply oozed from the piece. What did I call this rendering of the man I loved? Home.

Bastian said nothing, only stood motionless for a good ten minutes. Eventually he looked in my direction and I noticed that his eyes seemed a bit bright.

“Marry me, Lark.”

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