Chapter 1 - Confusion, Happiness, and Arousal
So, I'm wondering how long we can both pretend that I wasn't totally checking her out. Here we are getting ready for the first rehearsal of Degrassi's winter play, "A Mid Summer Night's Dream" which we both have leads in because of how well we worked together in "Castle Dracula" last year. Ms. Kwan told us that we had chemistry - and she was right. Emma and I have been through everything together ever since she shared her pail and shovel with me back in preschool, and we agreed to keep nothing between us, no emotional walls or secrets, and we've stayed true to that; for the most part anyway. But that doesn't matter now, because anything I may have conveniently left out about my sexual preference in the past is pretty much obvious since I made absolutely no effort to turn around while Emma was changing. In fact, my eyes were probably dark and wild as they so obviously scanned her amazing body up and down. Only when she said my name did I realize what I was doing and turned around before she saw me turn red.
And then somehow I go from blatant attraction, to mild embarrassment, to tears streaming down my cheeks, realizing that in just a second of not thinking, I could have once again ruined a friendship that has lasted our whole lives and that I need to survive. Okay, I'm jumping the gun a little bit, but Emma is the one person in my life who I can never take things too lightly with. Ironically the thing that gets us into the most arguments has something to do with guys, but at least with that we know how to work around it. This is completely out of left field, and now all I can do is wait for the angry, freaked out questioning that is sure to begin. Instead, she puts a hand on my shoulder from behind.
"Hey," she says gently, "Why are you crying?"
I open my mouth to answer her, but I'm shocked that it was the first thing she asked. No screaming, no crying, just a straightforward question that is a lot easier to answer than the several questions I had anticipated. I decide that a straightforward question deserves a straightforward answer, and that at this point, all I can do is be honest. "I just feel stupid, and I hate doing stupid things when it comes to you."
She again shocks me by laughing the laugh that I've come to adore. "Manny, it's okay. Seriously. Don't worry."
It's okay? Are we thinking of the same thing here? I'm trying to figure out what she didn't understand about what just happened. Did she not realize I was checking her out? She had to have, she's the one that broke me out of my obvious trance. Maybe she thinks I was just daydreaming or just looking, in a non-sexual way. Part of me thinks I can get away with this, and that I should just run with it. Play it off like I was just in another world and happened to be looking in her direction, but I can't. I promised her that there would be nothing between us, and the least I owe her is to be completely honest. I turn around to face her and gaze up into her sympathetic eyes. "I can't not worry when it comes to you," I say honestly.
An interesting look that appears like a mixture of confusion, happiness, and arousal is now on her face. "I know," she says, which for some reason makes my stomach jump in the best way possible "But I don't want you to."
Now we're both silent, standing before one another, and even though neither of us are sure why, the look in her eyes is telling me that doing what I've wanted to for so long is okay. I finally decide that why doesn't matter when I place a hand on her hip, pull her as close to me as possible, and kiss her passionately, making up for all the fantasies where she ended up vanishing at this part. She breathes shakily into my mouth and I can feel the arms that hold onto my back trembling, but despite the fact that she's obviously a bit scared, she deepens the kiss by massaging her tongue against mine. I never imagined how amazing it would feel to be caught up in this moment with the most beautiful and amazing girl I've ever met, and when she touches my face with her hand, it's just the motivation I need to push her up against the wall, our kiss growing with intensity and a surge running through my body when she gasps at my hands binding her wrists to the wall.
She takes the unexpected initiative of tugging on my bottom lip with her teeth, and I can't help but moan restlessly into her mouth. I'm guessing this turns her on since suddenly the tiny hairs on her arms are held at attention by newly formed goose bumps. As much as molten hot blood courses through my body at this staggering connection, I somehow feel like a third-party bystander, having no clue or control of what will happen next, but loving every second of it. Our contact is that of two lovers who long ago fell desperately in love, were pulled apart for years, and are now reunited for the first time in ages, still remembering every detail of how to create the perfect love making. Neither of us can anticipate the next touch, breath, or movement, but I know that I'm not worried in the least.
The next thing I know, my hands are hooking themselves under her knees, sliding her up the wall until I am safely carrying her in my arms, not once breaking the kiss. I instinctively walk towards the bed, but naturally all of our clothes and other crap is on it and I don't want to break our contact to move it off. I settle for the computer chair, which I move with my foot so it is against the wall. I go to sit down and I can tell that she is doing what she can to safely guide me into a sitting position, her legs still wrapped around my waist tightly. Practically straddling me, she enjoys the opportunity that she now has to top me, and I open my eyes just in time to see an almost wicked smile grace her lips. She presses her hands against the wall behind me in the chair and uses the leverage to move herself closer and further from me, teasing me with short, interrupted kisses. I hear sexually frustrated whines escape my own lips, not liking the change from what we just had, but I can tell she's loving every minute of driving me crazy.
I decide it's my turn for a little fun when I dance my polished nails up her bear stomach, knowing it's one of her most ticklish spots. Her arms retreat from the wall in defense, and I use this opportunity to hold her hands with mine. Running my fingers along her mid section reminded me all the more of the fact that she is still only wearing a bra above the waist, and suddenly, my mouth longs to taste her skin. I begin kissing down her neck, which I know she likes by the fact that her breathing increases and she arches her neck back as far as possible so that I do not miss a single spot. I continue to kiss downward, and as much as I want to take off her bra and fulfill one of my deepest needs, there is still a fraction of my conscience working that doesn't want to take things too fast and mess everything up for good. So, instead, I kiss as much of her cleavage as the clothing barrier will allow, savoring each miniscule bead of sweat as it evaporates on my lips. When I drag my mouth over her clothed breasts and begin kissing the curves underneath them, I feel her nails dig into my upper back as she breathlessly, yet forcefully, speaks my name in a glorious exhale. Now I know for sure that any communication between my brain and body is shot as her presence, voice, and touch utterly intoxicate me. I feel the three powerful and potentially ill-fated words creep up my throat and realize how long I have wanted to say them and how many times I have come close.
Just as they are about to leave my lips and evanesce into the air, the door to our basement room being flung open stops both of us in our tracks. Emma, with record timing, leaps from my lap and dashes over to the mirror, nonchalantly greeting Darcy, who was our ride to rehearsal, even before she puts her shirt back on. Here I am ready to die in my anxiousness, and she handles it like a pro. I silently wonder if she got her practice sneaking around from she and Jay's secret affair, but the thought makes me too jealous and I ignore it.
Darcy greets us with her typical ear-to-ear grin, and even though she is acting no different than any other day, it still takes me a good few minutes to relax and fully realize that we didn't get caught. To make it worse, my nerve endings are still all charged to the max, my mind and body in a complete reverie, and it doesn't help when Darcy sits on my lap, lazily throwing an arm around my shoulder. Emma's touch still burns on my skin, and I'm surprised that Darcy can't feel the heat emanating off of me. I try to read Emma's eyes in the mirror, wondering if this is making her the slightest bit jealous even though Darcy is 100 straight. I don't know why I'm hoping that it would, but based on her facial expression, nothing just happened between she and I, and it's worrying me.
After telling us a story about Friendship Club that I only half listened to, Darcy stands from my lap and heads for the stairs. "Well, it's freezing out so I'm going to go warm up the car, but seriously guys, we need to leave in, like, two minutes or we'll be late."
I force a smile, knowing that if I don't snap out of it, Darcy's bound to know that something's up. I figured this would at least give me a minute to see if Emma was completely freaked out before we go into what could be a 3 hour rehearsal. But before I can say a word, Emma darts by me, fully dressed, to the stairs, "Darcy, hang on, I'll go with you," she says, not even paying me a second glance on her way by. I automatically panic, having the feeling that I shouldn't have let things go as far as they did. We live together now, and we have all the same scenes in "A Mid Summer Night's Dream," so there was really no room for messing things up with her. I glance at the clock and take a deep breath, knowing that I'll have to try and wait to see how badly I fucked up this time.