1 CHAPTER 4
Standing in the middle of his large bedroom, Larry listened for the sound of Ren's car as she drove away. After a minute, he assumed that she had left before he had finished his painful climb up the mountain that used to be a staircase. Heaving a sigh, he set about preparing for bed; although it was barely dark out, there was no way he was negotiating those stairs a second time! If the house caught fire, Larry was taking the window exit tonight.
Twenty minutes later, he sat on the edge of his bed perspiring heavily. He had managed to change his jeans for a comfortable old pair of sweat pants, but he had had to bite his lip to keep from crying out while he did it. Life with a soldier had taught him that men didn't make a big deal about pain; his knee had been giving him grief all day, but he had taken pride in the fact that no-one had noticed. When he had fallen earlier, he had been mortified; knowing that Ren had seen him at his most pathetic had only made it worse. Whether she was his enemy or his friend didn't really matter; he hadn't wanted her to see his weakness.
Pulling up one leg of his sweats, he made himself comfortable on the bed, put the ice pack on his swollen knee and reached for his history textbook. Pushing the pain from his mind, he forced himself to concentrate on the reading assignment. With a bum knee, his focus had to change, and without sports to dull his competitive edge, his 3.75 average now had his full attention. A scooter grumbled loudly as it passed near the house; Larry scowled, but he didn't lift his head.
Ren opened the door as the pizza delivery boy reached the end of the driveway. Meeting him outside, she paid him and hurried back indoors. She had already been starving at 6:oo; now, she was light-headed and cranky. Stopping in the kitchen for plates and sodas, she headed upstairs. Pausing momentarily outside Larry's room, she squared her shoulders; she had never been afraid of Beales before and she wasn't going to start now. Balancing the pizza and plates, she rapped on the door, then turned the knob before he had a chance to respond.
When Ren walked into the room, Larry felt some of the tension that had seized his spine dissipate. Now he only had one intruder to worry about. "You'd better put those down before you drop something," he said, betraying no sign of his confusion. He watched her silently as she served the food and handed him a plate and a soda. He had eaten one slice and started his second before she spoke:
"I know you thought I had gone home, but I remembered that I had promised you dinner, and with your knee, and your father not coming home for hours…" Realizing she was babbling, Ren's voice trailed away. Larry had stopped eating, and his bland expression had been replaced by another she knew very well; for some reason she couldn't fathom, he was suddenly very, very angry.
Dropping his pizza and shoving his plate out of the way, Larry stood up and strode to the door. The pills he had taken had started to take effect, but he barely noticed that the pain was significantly reduced. "I think you should leave now." He approached the open door and stood there without looking at her. "Take your pizza with you," he reminded a mortified Ren as she moved to obey.
As she closed the pizza box, some of her shock at his behaviour wore off. This was the Larry Beales she had known all her life; she had been feeling somewhat off-centre, but this she could handle! "Have you completely lost your mind?" She whirled around, hair flying, and closed the gap between them. "I don't know what your problem is, and I'm way too hungry to care right now." With an imperious look, she sashayed over to his desk and resumed her seat. Picking up a half-eaten slice of pizza, she looked at Larry, still holding the door; "After I've eaten, we can decide if you're crazy or not."
Larry stood there for another moment, and then he moved, slamming the door behind him. Before the echo had faded, he was looming over Ren; although he was a mere two inches taller than she was, his anger and their relative positions made him seem much larger. Very gently, he removed the pizza from her hand and placed it in the plate by her elbow. He placed one hand on the desk and the other on the arm of her chair, effectively blocking her in. Their eyes locked; he could see her struggling not to appear intimidated by him, and the part of him that was still rational admired her for it. "I want something absolutely clear between us: I don't need anything from you, especially not your pity." The last was said with great scorn. "Is that what this is about, this truce? Poor injured Larry can't manage without Super Ren's assistance? Is this a big thrill for you, Super Ren?"
Appalled at his misinterpretation of her actions, and beginning to feel some anger at his bullying tactics, Ren pushed futilely against his chest. "Let me up, Larry." Surprised at how strong he was, she sat back in her seat and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, she looked up at him with a serene expression. "Is this a big thrill for you?"
Larry retreated, shame registering on his face. Ren stood up as soon as he released the chair; trying to put some distance between them, she stumbled as she tripped over the chair behind her. Larry caught her without thinking, one arm encircling her waist. She felt her hand against his face before she knew she was going to hit him.
The sharp sound of her hand against his cheek immobilized them both. Ren knew that she shouldn't have struck him, but she was suddenly furious! Her anger was partly a reaction to his treatment of her, but there was something more behind it. She wasn't sure she could ever forgive him for that one moment that he had made her feel afraid.
As her hand returned to her side, they stood there looking at each other, not moving, not speaking. Both of them realized that something momentous had just taken place. Everything had changed between them; what happened in the next few minutes would decide the subsequent path of their relationship. Ren's anger was already beginning to ebb, and although she tried to hold on to the feeling of righteous indignation, as suddenly as the emotion had suffused her being, it was gone. He was so close that she could see the mark her hand had made on his face. Had she really hit him that hard? Her fingers throbbed, proof that she had indeed put her weight behind the blow. As their eyes met, she could see no sign of his previous arrogance; a profound shame was reflected in his eyes.
Larry made the first move. "I guess I deserved that." He paused for a moment, a wry smile curling his lips. "Maybe if you had done that four years ago…." His attempt at humour fell flat.
Ren's attention was focused on the handprint that was still visible on his right cheek. She reached out to him, touching his face as though she could erase the mark she had left. She cupped his cheek, trying to make amends with her touch, but it wasn't enough. She wanted him to know that she was sorry, that whatever emotion had made her so uncharacteristically aggressive was gone, but as she held his gaze, she couldn't think for a moment. She was overwhelmed by the sadness and desolation in his eyes. All at once, she understood. His anger when he thought she pitied him, the insane competition between them, everything made sense. "Larry, I wanted to help because you needed help. I wasn't proving my superiority, I wasn't trying to take advantage of you to make myself feel stronger." She took a deep breath; "It's okay to accept help from your friends. Friendship is about helping each other to be strong."
Unable to help himself, he closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against her palm, enjoying the sensation of her softness against the roughness of his cheek. His self-disgust increased; she was offering him real friendship, something that he now knew he had never really experienced, and it still wasn't enough for him. Instead of being grateful that she was still willing to take a chance on him, all he could think about was how soft she was, how good her hair smelled. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised at how close her lips seemed. Suddenly kissing her, feeling her lips open under his was all he could think about, and once again he struggled for control. Again he felt shame: He couldn't seem to move, couldn't speak. He only knew that he ached for something he couldn't have, that he shouldn't want.
Still touching his face, Ren felt the roughness of his cheek; for the first time, she realized that Larry was no longer a boy. She was suddenly aware that they were alone in the house, in his bedroom. She was suddenly very aware of him. The length of his lashes, the shape of his mouth – how had she not noticed how big his eyes were? Larry Beales was – beautiful. Taken aback by her unexpected response to him, she lowered her hand, but she didn't move away. In his eyes she saw the same bewilderment she felt.
As though in a dream, she touched his face again, this time running her thumb along his lower lip. Nothing had prepared her for this; she had not anticipated the fierce, violent stab of desire for this boy, this man. It made her bold. She stepped even closer, so close she could feel his heartbeat. All thoughts of leaving forgotten, she leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. She felt his startled recoil when their mouths touched, but it only lasted a heartbeat. He wrapped his arms around her, taking control of the kiss. She felt his tongue slide against hers, and she could taste his desperation. Then the world spun around her, forcing her to close her eyes as she felt herself swirled about as though caught in a whirlpool.
Standing in the middle of his large bedroom, Larry listened for the sound of Ren's car as she drove away. After a minute, he assumed that she had left before he had finished his painful climb up the mountain that used to be a staircase. Heaving a sigh, he set about preparing for bed; although it was barely dark out, there was no way he was negotiating those stairs a second time! If the house caught fire, Larry was taking the window exit tonight.
Twenty minutes later, he sat on the edge of his bed perspiring heavily. He had managed to change his jeans for a comfortable old pair of sweat pants, but he had had to bite his lip to keep from crying out while he did it. Life with a soldier had taught him that men didn't make a big deal about pain; his knee had been giving him grief all day, but he had taken pride in the fact that no-one had noticed. When he had fallen earlier, he had been mortified; knowing that Ren had seen him at his most pathetic had only made it worse. Whether she was his enemy or his friend didn't really matter; he hadn't wanted her to see his weakness.
Pulling up one leg of his sweats, he made himself comfortable on the bed, put the ice pack on his swollen knee and reached for his history textbook. Pushing the pain from his mind, he forced himself to concentrate on the reading assignment. With a bum knee, his focus had to change, and without sports to dull his competitive edge, his 3.75 average now had his full attention. A scooter grumbled loudly as it passed near the house; Larry scowled, but he didn't lift his head.
Ren opened the door as the pizza delivery boy reached the end of the driveway. Meeting him outside, she paid him and hurried back indoors. She had already been starving at 6:oo; now, she was light-headed and cranky. Stopping in the kitchen for plates and sodas, she headed upstairs. Pausing momentarily outside Larry's room, she squared her shoulders; she had never been afraid of Beales before and she wasn't going to start now. Balancing the pizza and plates, she rapped on the door, then turned the knob before he had a chance to respond.
When Ren walked into the room, Larry felt some of the tension that had seized his spine dissipate. Now he only had one intruder to worry about. "You'd better put those down before you drop something," he said, betraying no sign of his confusion. He watched her silently as she served the food and handed him a plate and a soda. He had eaten one slice and started his second before she spoke:
"I know you thought I had gone home, but I remembered that I had promised you dinner, and with your knee, and your father not coming home for hours…" Realizing she was babbling, Ren's voice trailed away. Larry had stopped eating, and his bland expression had been replaced by another she knew very well; for some reason she couldn't fathom, he was suddenly very, very angry.
Dropping his pizza and shoving his plate out of the way, Larry stood up and strode to the door. The pills he had taken had started to take effect, but he barely noticed that the pain was significantly reduced. "I think you should leave now." He approached the open door and stood there without looking at her. "Take your pizza with you," he reminded a mortified Ren as she moved to obey.
As she closed the pizza box, some of her shock at his behaviour wore off. This was the Larry Beales she had known all her life; she had been feeling somewhat off-centre, but this she could handle! "Have you completely lost your mind?" She whirled around, hair flying, and closed the gap between them. "I don't know what your problem is, and I'm way too hungry to care right now." With an imperious look, she sashayed over to his desk and resumed her seat. Picking up a half-eaten slice of pizza, she looked at Larry, still holding the door; "After I've eaten, we can decide if you're crazy or not."
Larry stood there for another moment, and then he moved, slamming the door behind him. Before the echo had faded, he was looming over Ren; although he was a mere two inches taller than she was, his anger and their relative positions made him seem much larger. Very gently, he removed the pizza from her hand and placed it in the plate by her elbow. He placed one hand on the desk and the other on the arm of her chair, effectively blocking her in. Their eyes locked; he could see her struggling not to appear intimidated by him, and the part of him that was still rational admired her for it. "I want something absolutely clear between us: I don't need anything from you, especially not your pity." The last was said with great scorn. "Is that what this is about, this truce? Poor injured Larry can't manage without Super Ren's assistance? Is this a big thrill for you, Super Ren?"
Appalled at his misinterpretation of her actions, and beginning to feel some anger at his bullying tactics, Ren pushed futilely against his chest. "Let me up, Larry." Surprised at how strong he was, she sat back in her seat and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, she looked up at him with a serene expression. "Is this a big thrill for you?"
Larry retreated, shame registering on his face. Ren stood up as soon as he released the chair; trying to put some distance between them, she stumbled as she tripped over the chair behind her. Larry caught her without thinking, one arm encircling her waist. She felt her hand against his face before she knew she was going to hit him.
The sharp sound of her hand against his cheek immobilized them both. Ren knew that she shouldn't have struck him, but she was suddenly furious! Her anger was partly a reaction to his treatment of her, but there was something more behind it. She wasn't sure she could ever forgive him for that one moment that he had made her feel afraid.
As her hand returned to her side, they stood there looking at each other, not moving, not speaking. Both of them realized that something momentous had just taken place. Everything had changed between them; what happened in the next few minutes would decide the subsequent path of their relationship. Ren's anger was already beginning to ebb, and although she tried to hold on to the feeling of righteous indignation, as suddenly as the emotion had suffused her being, it was gone. He was so close that she could see the mark her hand had made on his face. Had she really hit him that hard? Her fingers throbbed, proof that she had indeed put her weight behind the blow. As their eyes met, she could see no sign of his previous arrogance; a profound shame was reflected in his eyes.
Larry made the first move. "I guess I deserved that." He paused for a moment, a wry smile curling his lips. "Maybe if you had done that four years ago…." His attempt at humour fell flat.
Ren's attention was focused on the handprint that was still visible on his right cheek. She reached out to him, touching his face as though she could erase the mark she had left. She cupped his cheek, trying to make amends with her touch, but it wasn't enough. She wanted him to know that she was sorry, that whatever emotion had made her so uncharacteristically aggressive was gone, but as she held his gaze, she couldn't think for a moment. She was overwhelmed by the sadness and desolation in his eyes. All at once, she understood. His anger when he thought she pitied him, the insane competition between them, everything made sense. "Larry, I wanted to help because you needed help. I wasn't proving my superiority, I wasn't trying to take advantage of you to make myself feel stronger." She took a deep breath; "It's okay to accept help from your friends. Friendship is about helping each other to be strong."
Unable to help himself, he closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against her palm, enjoying the sensation of her softness against the roughness of his cheek. His self-disgust increased; she was offering him real friendship, something that he now knew he had never really experienced, and it still wasn't enough for him. Instead of being grateful that she was still willing to take a chance on him, all he could think about was how soft she was, how good her hair smelled. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised at how close her lips seemed. Suddenly kissing her, feeling her lips open under his was all he could think about, and once again he struggled for control. Again he felt shame: He couldn't seem to move, couldn't speak. He only knew that he ached for something he couldn't have, that he shouldn't want.
Still touching his face, Ren felt the roughness of his cheek; for the first time, she realized that Larry was no longer a boy. She was suddenly aware that they were alone in the house, in his bedroom. She was suddenly very aware of him. The length of his lashes, the shape of his mouth – how had she not noticed how big his eyes were? Larry Beales was – beautiful. Taken aback by her unexpected response to him, she lowered her hand, but she didn't move away. In his eyes she saw the same bewilderment she felt.
As though in a dream, she touched his face again, this time running her thumb along his lower lip. Nothing had prepared her for this; she had not anticipated the fierce, violent stab of desire for this boy, this man. It made her bold. She stepped even closer, so close she could feel his heartbeat. All thoughts of leaving forgotten, she leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. She felt his startled recoil when their mouths touched, but it only lasted a heartbeat. He wrapped his arms around her, taking control of the kiss. She felt his tongue slide against hers, and she could taste his desperation. Then the world spun around her, forcing her to close her eyes as she felt herself swirled about as though caught in a whirlpool.