Of the four, he was the only one who actually knew what he was doing. He bowled with his grandpa and three other old men on a team in a local bowling league. He threw his black ball hard and straight. Strike!
"GIBBEH!" he bellowed, disrupting the whole place. He was given another warning to keep his shirt on.
Freddie high-fived him as he came forward to take his turn. Sam cheered from where she lounged across three seats. Gibby took Freddie's seat next to Carly. She gave him a shy smile. "You rock."
"Thanks," he said, took her hand.
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He'd always been her sweetest friend. He got even sweeter as a boyfriend. He complimented new shoes, noticed new hairstyles, had already been in her life so nothing needed to be rearranged to spend time with him. He was funny on top of the sweetness, and generally kind to his core. Carly never saw the same weird guy that others did when she looked at him. She saw strong shoulders, beautiful eyes, good teeth, big arms, all his best qualities, a handsome young man who winked at her and left daisies slid into the lock of her locker every day.
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Haunted houses. Carly never cared for them. Gibby thought the world of them. He knew every single one in the area and went to all of them this time of year. Carly preferred carving pumpkins, handing out candy, playing in the fallen leaves.
She went because they were dating and they couldn't just do what she wanted all the time. She'd be okay so long as Gibby stayed close—But suddenly, he was gone.
"GIBBY?"
Something pinched her arm. She screamed, whacked her attacker hard. It was Gibby, being mean. He got what he deserved. Then he got a kiss.
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He had a gerbil in a cage in the corner of his room. It was a big cage, clean and tidy. The gerbil was eagerly licking at its little water dispenser. It was black, fat, and cute. Carly opened the top, reached in to stroke it.
"Hey little guy,"
"She's a girl," Gibby corrected, startling Carly. She hadn't noticed he'd returned.
"Her name's Coal. Dad got her for me for Christmas—a joke, getting only Coal for Christmas."
"She's adorable," Carly said.
"She was the cutest girl in the room 'til you came."
He winked. She blushed, giggled, kissed him.
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Her skin was porcelain perfection, flawless. He liked when she hung her head back and he could see the skin of her neck go taught from her jaw to her collarbone. If they were alone, he kissed it. When she wore sleeveless shirts, he liked to run his fingers down her arm and back up, just to feel the smoothness, the silkiness. He longed to feel the bare flesh of her stomach, her sides, her chest under his fingertips, could imagine that skin coming to life as her arm's did, puckering up in goose pimples.
Her skin made him sigh.
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He was still friends with all the girls of his past, friends with even more girls hoping to be in his future. It was in his nature to be nice to everyone, to be laid back and comfortable with them. She could trust him. She should trust him. She didn't like that she doubted every time she saw him talking to a pretty girl. She'd never been the jealous type before, but that was what he did to her, made her not want to share him.
It sparked their first big fight, which ended with a daisy and "I'm sorry,"
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Other boyfriends had said it way before this, and had said it often. She'd always said it back happily. I love you, the best three words in the universe. But he hadn't said it yet. She started to, sometimes, but couldn't bring herself to say it. What if he didn't say it back? Sometimes, when he had his arms around her, his lips on hers, she felt stupid for doubting.
So it was time. If she couldn't hear it from him, she wanted to feel it from him. She didn't need to hear it if she could feel it…
Right?
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They'd both known the thrills of others first. Granted, it wasn't like she'd become an expert after two reckless goes at it, but he'd had practice enough to get the kinks out. It'd be different this time, though. They were old friends, true friends, dating for two months now.
Even if they broke up, they'd still see each other everyday after this, made it more serious. Young, breathless, barely comprehending what they felt inside, when she looked into his eyes, told him what she wanted, they reached an understanding: They wanted to same thing, and there was nothing stopping them.
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Friday, she promised. Spencer wouldn't be home on Friday. He felt weird, waiting for a specific time before heading over to her place—had always only ever been on whims before, nothing so precise. It felt weirder knowing there were no big brothers around. She answered the door looking normal. He might have been there to borrow an SAT book.
But then she took his hand, pulled him upstairs. His heart was pounding. He was getting excited. She was being giggly. He liked her giggly.
Should the door be locked? Home alone, no point. That felt even weirder.
Alone together.
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"Say you love me,"
She felt him tense, hesitate, but he didn't stop. Good, she didn't want him to. So close. She arched against him, "Just say it!" she snapped, always so bossy when stressed. "It doesn't have to mean anything. I just want to hear it. Please."
He'd never said it before. Love was an old thing. He was a young thing, didn't know much about it. But she said please. He couldn't refuse. He waited a few strokes, to bring the moment back. If Gibby knew anything, it was how to please a girl.
"I love you, Carly."