Once again, I do not own the rights to the Mediator series. BTW, thanks to everyone who sent encouraging comments. They really do help to prompt me along on the story. And now chapter 2…
I crumpled on my back in the chalky white gravel. Big chunks with sharp angles dug into my torso. Why do I put up with this? Why do I keep getting up time and time again? I just can't help myself. The big guy towered over me, shadow cast long across my dusty face. He really looked pig-like to me. Stout, with a bulbous yet solid body. Muscles under the layers of flabby flesh. His dark olive skin appeared darker from my vantage point; eyes shadowed and piercing. I wouldn't say they held intelligence. But they did reflect a certain knowledge that he would pulverize me into that rocky ground I sprawled over, leaving little more than a twisted, broken body; bloodied and lifeless.
Ha! I dared him back with my own squinting eyes. I would not tremble. And I would most certainly fight back. Like I said, I just can't help myself. He lumbered over and down towards me in slow motion as I dug my heels into the ground as best I could considering I was wearing a pair of satrapy, beige Nine West ballerina flats that matched perfectly with my now soiled loose fit, low cut chinos. Today was presentation day in debate class and I was dressed to fit the part. My little suit coat with the princess seams and three-quarter length sleeves, which of course was part of the pants suit set, was taking a beating. I spied a snag in my left arm that would be irreparable. Damn. Damn. Damn. It goes without saying that the white sleeveless blouse with its dainty eyelets and delicate mother of pearl buttons was trashed. This mutha' was going down. And fast.
My feet anchored, I flung myself up and side stepped around the stout ghost who was stupid enough to jump me on today of all days. From behind, I put him in an awkward headlock- did I mention he was mammothly huge- and kicked his left leg out from under him. He was going down but I didn't want this to become an all out, roll-a-round in the pointy gravel wrestling match. I would be squashed. He tried to buck me up and over but I held on tight. Anyone who says strangulation is quick and easy is a liar and definitely not an experienced mediator. Still holding a death lock around his thick sinuous neck, I grabbed an arm that flailed about uselessly. He wasn't exactly lithe. Being relatively new to the ghost world he hadn't exactly come into his own yet either. He was playing by human rules, panicked with fear that I might actually succeed in strangling a body that had no use for oxygen. Whatever. I had no sympathy for a ghost that just appeared out of nowhere to commit a full frontal assault. Not today.
The parking lot was empty except for a few stragglers who had not yet come to claim their cars. Dusk was approached quickly, it being the season of short daylight hours and chilly nights. Not that I felt the cold. My adrenalin was at peak levels. I gritted my teeth wishing for this to be over so that I could just go and spend some quality makeout time with-
And then it happened. I was lifted off my assailant and with a speed that seemed to me superhuman, my attacker was being pummeled by my hunky, formerly ghost but now human, boyfriend. And before my eyes it was over. K.O. Jesse settled it like that. He was that good. And it was getting on my nerves. Not only was that Latin machismo behavior ( which entailed coming to my rescue when I clearly did not need it and then putting me out on the sidelines) beginning to grate on my nerves, but it was making me look bad. Not that there was anyone to witness this backyard brawl tonight, but I knew. I knew. I could feel my brows knitting together as I trudged over to where Jesse stood looking down over my aggressor.
Jesse was glorious to behold even to me in my somewhat miffed state of mind. Taught muscles flexed under his thin red t-shirt with the Carmel Historical Society logo plastered in the center. His inky black hair perfect despite the brief but intense scuffle. High cheek bones showed in my view as he slowly turned his head in my direction, a twinkle in his bottomless black eyes. Focus girl! Don't let his good looks deter you."Querida, what have you done this time?" His eyes roved up and down my body. I'd like to think it was my athletic yet slender good looks, but I had a feeling it was not. I looked completely trashed and still he blamed me. The scratches were beginning to sting now that the adrenalin was washing away. I felt as bad as I imagined I must look. I sighed deeply.
"Can we just go home," I pleaded with feeling, shoulders slumping a bit.
"Aye, claro que si mi vida," sympathy washed over his face.
I couldn't decide whether to play the sympathy card which would inevitably result in Jesses comforting arms wrapping me in a close embrace or to hold out on this one and give him Hell for treating me like a glass doll again; and not for the last time I am certain. We needed to work on this partners deal. It wasn't working, and wouldn't work until Jesse got passed this over protectiveness that had intensified remarkably ever since he rejoined the land of the living.
"But first," Jesse began as he turned around only to find the bully ghost had disappeared into the night or maybe just another dimension.
"I'm sure you'll tell me all about it on the way home," he sighed.
And with that we got into his small but efficient used Honda and took off towards Jesse's apartment.
What, you ask, was I doing on a school night out with my beau instead of sitting at the dinner table eating a fine yet mandatory meal lovingly prepared by the hands of my step dad? Had the world turned on its head? Apparently it had because my mom was loosening up now that her only child had a real boyfriend to gush over. It had taken some time for her to get used to the age difference. If she only knew. But a few family nights with Jesse sitting beside me at the dinner table changed her mind in a hurry. Mom even mentioned something about him being a good influence one me. I'm sure my eyes bulged when whe said it. But that's the thing. Everyone who meets Jesse likes him from the get go.
And so I was given more leeway. Later curfew, a few less worried looks. Things were looking up. I had already cleared missing dinner tonight. It was an afternoon filled with student council meetings, detention for the Kate Spade mini I had tried to pass off the previous Friday, and then a good old fashioned mediator to mediator talk with Father D. I thought about this as I sat on Jesses kitchen counter while he ministered to my wounds, rubbing Neosporin on the scratches after having gently washed the dirt out. Tomorrow was definitely a long sleeved shirt day. Not to mention the bruises that would pop up like insidious mushrooms on my back and legs. I had taken off my decidedly ruined suit coat and now my bare arms were feeling a cold draft. I shivered.
"Are you cold," he asked with a look that I had come to recognize as that of sly playfulness. I had enough Neosporin on my arms to shimmer and shine under the dim sink light.
"I could warm you up," he said smoothly as he put down the salve and drew closer in between my dirt encrusted knees.
Heat. I love the heat that radiates from him I mused, closing my eyes as Jesse placed his lips gently to my own. This is the way it should be I thought as the kiss progressively deepened. I can feel his warmth and smell his skin and even feel the steady beat of his heart. Arms snaked around my back and I stiffened as strong finger pressed into a tender spot on my shoulder blade. Instantly, Jesse drew back with a look of concern on his face.
"Estas bien querida? Are you hurt elsewhere."
It was more of a statement than anything else. Before I realized it, I was being pulled off the counter and turned around like a small child blindfolded at a birthday party in the midst of pin-the-tale-on-the-donkey. I felt my blouse lift off my lower back and the cool air drew another shiver from me.
"Querida, I cannot view the full extent of your injuries with such overly tailored modern clothing clinging to your body like this. Let me look at your back and shoulders. You can't do it yourself," he said coaxingly and with an air of knowing and confidence.
All of a sudden I felt the anger and frustration wash back to the forefront of my mind again.
"I can too do it myself," I replied with sincere offense, moving away from his touch.
"Don't be childish. Let me help you," Jesse retorted with what sounded like the beginnings of a smirk creeping across his face. He was enjoying this. Hands lifted from my upper arms and appeared around my waste at the lower button of my blouse.
"I can do it," I huffed pushing his long fingers away to fumble with my own buttons. Heat was building at my back as Jesse breathed warmly near my neck. The last button came undone and I hesitantly wiggled the shirt down my shoulders. Jesse lightly grasped the material and removed it the rest of the way, placing the ruined shirt on the cold countertop against which I lightly leaned. I knew this part would be making Jesse as uncomfortable as I was. He may have been actually living in the twenty-first century but he had not abandoned his nineteenth century ways. Still not willing to make a move. But that was alright. Because at that moment I felt a smidgen panicked myself.
I felt his hands tentatively feel out my back presumably for fractures and whatnot. I knew nothing was broken but I didn't dare say a word. I concentrated on his light touch and slowly my eyes closed.
"It does not appear that anything is broken. I'm sure you'll have some bruises and sore muscles but nothing more," his voice boomed through the silent apartment shattering my peaceful thoughts. The fingers lingered on my hypersensitive skin, careful not to place too much pressure on any one spot. He began caressing my back.
"Your skin is so smooth and soft," he trailed off until I shivered again which this time had nothing to do with the cold. I felt Jesse's gentle breath grow closer and hotter on my neck again until his lips touched my skin and then I just felt like melting into a puddle at his feet. It doesn't get much better than that.
Spanish Translations:
Aye, claro que si mi vida
Oh, of course my love (literally "life")
Estas bien querida?
Are you well dear?