Enjoy my fellow HSM lovers!
It's October and I hadn't really thought swimming was all that good of an idea to begin, why did I suggest it? I mean, it gets pretty cold here at night. Like 60's or something. Oh, well, we'd have body heat, I hope.
Taylor's exactly on time as always. Seven at the dot. My mom's in the tub, I yell to her that I'm going out. She doesn't even respond. Some caring mother.
I run out the door before Taylor can pull her cute little black Saturn into my driveway.
"Whoa, boy! What's your hurry?" she said as I yanked open the car door.
"Drive." I command her, sliding in. She looks at me as she fiddles with her shiny dark hair. "Hon, I wanted to…"
"I know what you wanted to do!" I cut in, "Come in and meet my parents but I said no before, multiple times! How many times do I have to say it? Just drive the fucking car!" I bark. Wow, I bit my lip. That was so mean. Shit, why am I always doing this?
She looks shocked and offended, but she obeys. We sit in silence as she drives to the local lake.
"This is a date, right?" she says, finally.
"Whatever you call it, yeah." I replied, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.
"Well, in case no one ever told you, boyfriends do not yell at their girlfriends when the girlfriends are coming to pick the boyfriends up on a date!" she half yells, turning on her blinkers.
"No one did ever tell me that in fact. Thank you, but may I remind you that you said that this was not official date?"
Taylor scoffed, her angry eyes glued to the road.
"You can be such a…" she doesn't finish. Dammit, she's mad. Strike one.
I change the subject, "Did you bring a swimsuit?"
"No." she snaps.
"Hey! Why not? I told you to!" I complain loudly.
"It's cold." She sulks.
"Not that cold! Besides, I wore my swimming trunks!" I stick my leg up on the dashboard so she can see my orange baggy surfer shorts. She smiles a teeny bit.
"Feet down." She dictates, never breaking her gaze from the street signs. "You know you like it." I say. She shakes her head gently, so I say, "You love my hott hairy legs. You think these shorts are bad ass, girl, come and say it." She has to bit her lips to keep from laughing, she shakes head harder now. I don't move my sneakers, but I slide my hand up to her shoulder, and let my palm rest on her neck. She doesn't pull away. Yes, one point.
We get to the lake, it's large and deep and surrounded by trees and boulders. It's actually very private and impressively romantic, the silver moonlight beaming down, making everything glow.
I race down ahead of Taylor as she picks her way along like a tentative mother, clutching a basket and a towel, I run like a impulsive child and rip off my shirt, tear my off shoes and plunge head first in.
It's so cold it feels like an icy slap and makes my chest hurt. I'm submerged in the frozen blackness, and I resurface, gasping and screeching.
"Gahhh! Oh, fuck, its cold! Oh fuck its cold!" I yell.
I hear Taylor laughing, I turn around, and she's standing on a huge flat rock, like a dinner table. Her hands clamper over her mouth as she giggles. I like seeing her laugh, good sign. Two points.
"Are you coming in or am I gonna freeze my ass to death alone?" I say.
"What, I thought I was gonna watch you." She said. She looks serious.
"Oh fuck, no! You gotta come in!" I'm disappointed for real. Strike two.
She laughs again, even harder and pulls off her yellow sundress, and she's wearing a modest one piece with a U back. I survey it, ehh, better than not coming in at all. She crouches down and carefully dips her toe in the water.
"Eeek! No! Its sub zero!" she shivers.
"No, it's fine! Come in!" I beg, my teeth chattering.
She looks at my frosty breath and quivering form and says, "Uh huh." Very sarcastically.
"Am I gonna have to yank you in?" I feign exasperation.
"Don't you dare." She growls. I swim a couple laps and peer up at her, her bare ankle is a few feet away, I could grab and pull her down as easy as anything.
I reach up; she screams and runs from my wet outstretched hands. I laugh and pull myself out, shaking from the biting air around me.
She gets the towel, lifts it up over my head and around my shoulders, and rubs them lovingly.
"Poor, child." She coos. I smile and pull her close to me, wrapping her up in the huge soft white towel with me; she's trapped in my arms. She giggles and hugs my neck; I feel the goose bumps that were already there multiply. She lays her head on my chest and I rest my chin on her hair and take a deep breath of her sweet cinnamon scent. I feel her heart beat so close to mine. She's so warm, and she's so comfortable. And she likes me so much. I want to kiss her so badly that it makes my stomach twist just thinking about it.
"Ugh, you're all wet." She giggles and squirms.
"Pssh, yeah, I just was in the water." I say, still smiling. She begins to pull away but I tighten my grip. "Wait, no, stay here." I say.
"You're getting me wet too." She laughs. "Not as wet as you soon will be." I joke. Her eyes widen with my obscene remark and she begins to reprimand me but something happens.
Suddenly, before my brain could stop my heart, my hands, or groin, I grab her head and pull it smoothly to mine and our lips collide. Hers are warm and slick with lip-gloss that tastes like cherries. My mind is white, my world tips and all that there is, is the feel of Taylor. Her lips, her skin, her breath on my cheek. Right now, I think I love her.
I was just about to open my mouth to deepen the kiss when she lurches away, stumbling from my grasp. Before I can get out an explanation, she smacks me hard. My left cheek burns. Ow, fuck. Definitely strike three.
"What the hell gave you the right to think that you could kiss me?" she shrieks. I stare blankly, my heart still pounding from seconds before.
"Taylor," is all I can say. She holds up her finger at me threateningly. "Don't you baby me! I can't believe you! We came on this date to have fun, good clean decent fun. I'm not about to let you wheedle me into the back seat. You're such a pushy bastard. How dare you kiss me!?"
I'm looking at her in her dorky yellow bathing suit, and her hair pulled up all stylishly with chopsticks and her face so angry.
I drop the towel, and grab my shirt from the ground and start hunting around for my shoes as she keeps on yelling.
"Again, and again, you pull this on me. Sweet talk me in a isolated spot, teasing me, getting as naked as you possibly can, trying to charm me out of my clothes and then, bang, you spring like some sort of perverted animal! And this is the furthest you've gotten! What, are you going to go and brag to your buddies later on how you scored it?" she makes sarcastic air quotes with her fingers.
Then, she notices that I'm not really listening.
"Don't you turn your back on me, Chad Danforth! I'm not through with you yet!" I finally find my shoes, yank them roughly, turn, and face her.
"Well, I'm through with you!" I yell. Wow, I didn't say that, did I mean it? Maybe.
Her face pinches in confusion, "What do you mean?" she snapped.
"I'm just saying, that if I'm such a sex beast, then why do you agree to go out with me? Why do you tolerate my moves? When I do something or say something, why do you put up with it? Or smile and go along? Don't act so fucking innocent. You know it and I know it. And we both know it and we know we want it."
"Want what?" she sneered, folding her arms defensively.
"Sex." I said flatly.
Her jaw drops and she glances around nervously as if someone could hear us out in the middle of nowhere. "I can't believe you just said that!" she half screams, half whispers.
I shrug, "I wanna sleep with you." I say simply.
She shakes her head so hard that bits of her hair are falling out their "do" and into her face. "No, no, no, and no. I'm not sleeping with you. I'm a firm believer in committed relationship sex." She states like a textbook.
"We've been together forever. What's not committed?" I'm incredulous.
"Eight months, not forever. And commitment means always listening to other person and being there for them!" She shoots back. "And you never listen to me! No, don't shake your head! You know you don't! You're always spacing out when I talk to you about anything important, don't like it it's not true. I'm not dumb; I see how far away your eyes are. All you want to do is play ball, flirt, and joke and pressure me into sleeping with you. Well, forget it!" she says dramatically.
She's right. Fuck, why do I have to like the smart ones?
"You're right." I say quietly. "I'm sorry, no more tricks to have sex, we'll have it when we're both ready. When I've really committed to you like I should have been all along. From this moment on, making you completely happy is my focus. And if that means, forfeiting other shit, so be it. I love you."
Wow, I sound so good. I'd give Tom Cruise a run for his money. I'm just trying to shut her up. I hate yelling. Yelling at home, yelling in the classroom, and yelling in the gym. God, please, I can't handle any more.
If it worked on Taylor, she's hiding it. Her lips are pursed and she studying me critically.
'Forgive me?" I say lamely. She nods briefly, "Uh huh." Then looks at her fancy delicate gold wristwatch. "Damn, it's getting late. We should go back."
"Can't be that late." I respond. "Its 9, and it's a school night. I'm driving you home. Now."
And I now it'd be dangerous to argue so we pick up or scattered stuff and get in the car and she drives me home in silence.
HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM
I open the front door very slowly, so it doesn't make a sound. I peer around cautiously, all the lights are out. Everyone's in bed. I come in and slide the door shut. The lock clicking in place booms like thunder, I wince and creep upstairs. The hallway is pitch black, Mom, and dad's door shut, but Andrea's isn't. Weird, normally her room is all behind locked up because she's paranoid. I go and look through the crack, her bed is empty. She's not home. No surprise, she's always out with Kimmel and Sean, her dorky friends, partying, getting stoned.
I walk in, feeling a little unsafe though I know perfectly well she wasn't there. Moonlight pours from the window, illuminating the room. Aretha Franklin and Johnny Depp posters line her walls. Her pink canopy lay unslept in. I inspect her vanity; trillions of little bottles of perfume, lotion, and body spray are in a neat row. Her glass jewelry case displaying lots of earrings. Her mirror was crowded with pictures of her and her friends. And one of her, Harper, and I about six years ago, so I was about twelve. I look so dorky; my hair wasn't as poofy back then. Harper's grinning, slightly self-conscience acne on his chin, and Andrea, sixteen and bearing a huge tin grin, her braces glinting. We're all so young. Something underneath hurts, but I shove it away and open up her top drawer.
Underwear. Lots of it. Fun kinds too, though it slightly gross to think my sister actually wears these and that guys like them. Thongs and push up bras. Lacy and black or pink and frilly or slinky and silky.
I sort of dig around, not knowing what I'm looking for. I find a box of tampons. Gross.
Then, my hand touches something small and crinkly. I pull it and inspect carefully.
A sandwich baggie full of pills. Dozens of tiny white pills. I recognize some of them. Ecstasy, Ritalin, and another smaller bag containing white powder. Undeniably cocaine.
I remember at school, people giving "Just Say No!" seminars about the dangers of drug abuse. It would be fun to try but Coach is so strict about it, I never dared to risk it. "Weed will earn you a one way ticket out of my team! No one screws around with drugs and the plays on my team! No one!"
I've smoked regular cigarettes a couple of times, Troy says they smell gross but I sorta like it. I wonder what this shit would feel like?! Wonder if anyone would even notice? Think anyone would care? Probably not, I tip six or seven tablets in my hand and put them in pocket. Placing the bag exactly where I found it, by the tampons. I leave her room, adjusting the door so it look just as it did before.
I keep a 12 pack case of Mountain Dew in my room so I crack open a can and before really thinking about it, I swallow three or four pills, swishing them down with soda. Then, I lay down in my bed without undressing or anything and I think about Andrea.
Its weird to think that something so hyped as dangerous, my own sister does daily. I knew she did. Her friends joke about it, and she's come home stumbling late at night, her pupils dilated. Mom and dad don't even look close enough to notice. How could they not see?
My stupid selfish fucking parents. The thought of them being so blind makes me so angry that I thump my head against my head board. Ow, mistake. I rub my scalp and bury my face under my pillow.
When's the fucking side effects supposed to kick in?
Ten minutes later, oh boy, did they….
Please, tell me what you think so far! I really am anxious to see whether this is good or not, so please drop me a review!!!