Chapter 9
"Zane, how can I ever thank you?" I said as I followed him out of the theater.
"Just promise me you'll never go on a date with him again."
"Don't have to ask me twice," I said.
"One more thing," Zane turned to me in the middle of the plaza. "Would you…would you…never mind," he turned away.
"What? What do you want me to do? Wash your car? Iron your socks?" I asked. He had really piqued my interest.
"No. Forget I said anything," he continued leading me to his car.
"Hey jackass, get away from my girl!" Jet's voice thundered toward us. Zane and I turned to see Jet stalking in our direction.
"She's not your girl," Zane stepped in front of me.
"Well she sure as hell ain't yours," Jet said. His voice was low and menacing.
"And how would you know that?" I asked. I don't know why I said it. I guess I had to say something, and I wanted to set Jet back a step.
"Shut up," Jet ordered me. I was taken aback. Who says that to a girl they're trying to seduce?
"Listen, buddy," I said, stepping out from behind Zane, "I don't care who you think you are, you sure as hell aren't getting anything from me!"
Zane grasped my upper arm firmly yet gently and pulled me back.
"We're leaving now," he said, more to Jet than to me. We turned, and Jet threw a punch at Zane's head. With lightning-quick reflexes, Zane blocked and had Jet on his back.
"Try that again, and you won't get off so easy," he threatened. Jet glared, but didn't say anything. Zane stood and led me the rest of the way to his car, where he opened the door for me to get in. He climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. The vehicle pulled away from the theater parking lot, and soon we were heading toward my house. We had to drive through a country-ish area, and the road was empty.
"STOP!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. Zane slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a violent stop.
"What? What happened?" he asked, a hint of what might have been panic in his voice.
"Now you can tell me what you were going to have me do to thank you."
"I told you, forget it."
"I can't do that, Zane."
"Say that again."
"Huh?"
"My name. Say it again," he looked at me. His amber-ish eyes were glossed over with an emotion I'd never seen before. He leaned toward me slowly until his mouth was next to my ear. "Say my name one more time.
"Zane," I whispered. I pulled back slightly, turned, and kissed his lips. The kiss deepened, and Zane brushed my cheek with his thumb, trailing his hand down to my neck. He pulled me forward slightly. Suddenly, he pulled back.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"Don't be," I breathed. That kiss was better than the one we had shared in his kitchen. It was also the best kiss I'd ever had. I turned to Zane, "Do you want to go bowling?"
"Bowling? That's rather off-topic," he said. "But sure, let's go." He put the car into drive and we went to the bowling alley. We entered, got our shoes, and got a lane.
"I hope you don't mind, I'm really bad at bowling," I said.
"I'm not that great, either," he said. He rolled the ball down the lane, and knocked all of the pins down.
"Not that great, huh?" I smirked. Zane shrugged. I rolled my ball down, and it proceeded into the gutter. I threw up my hands in an 'I-told-you-so' manner.
"How 'bout I help you?" Zane suggested. He walked up behind me, lining his body against mine. He reached his right hand down my arm, grasping my wrist, with the other hand resting on my waist.
"Throw it like this," he showed me. "You got it?"
"I think so," I nodded. I tried it, but slipped on the floor with the trackless shoes. Zane rushed forward and grabbed me around the waist. But I was already too far gone. We both toppled over onto the floor, him on top of me. Our faces were mere centimeters away.
"Um," I said quietly. I could feel myself blushing. Could he see? I hoped not. I looked into his eyes, which were once again glossed over. "Why do you look at me like that?" I asked.
"Like what?"
"The way you're looking at me. It's different from the way other guys look at me."
"Maybe it's because I don't see you the same way," Zane whispered.
"Well, I like it," I leaned up and kissed him lightly on the lips.
"Excuse me," a voice said from above us. "No PDA. This is a family-friendly establishment." It was the manager.
"Sorry," I said. Zane rolled off of me, and we stood up. We finished our game, with occaisional glimpses which said more than we could. When our game was over, Zane drove me home, and left.
"How was your date?" Socka asked, not even looking at me as I entered.
"Amazing," I whispered. I stood at the door for a moment, then bolted up to my room to message my friends.