..::.. Chapter 14 - Smart Mouth ..::..

Young - High School, continuation

I lie in bed that night. I will not look out the window. I won't.

He kissed me. I kissed him back. My belly tenses when I remember his hand. The feeling.

Oh, God. I cringe. I press my face into my pillow. Maybe if I press hard enough I'll … die.

What would Vick and Bree say? Fuck, if Alice found out…

I groan louder. I pull my hair at the crown of my head. I shower. I stay under the cascading water—drowning. I'll just … die.

Alice got in late. I heard her car from her lot. I usually grab the receiver from my room and call her private number. Her clear, see-through phone with the colorful nuts and bolts sits by her bed. Lucky bitch gets to talk on the phone all hours of the night.

I have this old chipped phone with a long cord. Mom tells me she'll buy me another. I almost yelled, "No!" When she offered. I'll never get rid of this phone. It's made for spying.

Once I'm on it, I can tell when someone else in the house has picked up in another room. The receiver squeaks. The moment I hear it I don't speak. I yell, "Ma, I'm on the phone!" She begrudgingly hangs up. When the coast is clear, I continue our conversation. Alice knows the drill.

Not tonight. She will hear it in my voice. The terror. The horror. The audible arousal. Heat all over my body.

I sigh. For the first time ever, when the room is dark, and it only gets the glow from his room through my window, I go find the place where he touched. I crash down that slippery slope.

Literally.

It's terrifying to feel myself losing control. Him behind my eyelids.

…

"What the fuck is up his ass?" Vick asks. Alice looks over her shoulder. She rolls her eyes.

"Who knows? Sick of his shit," she says about her brother.

Wednesday morning we're at our usual spot having lunch. Bree twists a pliable, rubbery gum around her finger. Her lipstick pristine, her vintage military coat and ripped mesh stockings, not so much.

"I'd fuck him if that's what he's looking for," she says.

Alice makes a face. "Stay away from my brother, dirty bitch."

Bree rolls her eyes. "You've got that wrong, Sugar. He's been around and about far more than any of these fishes we've got to choose from."

She can't argue with that. But death to any girl who finds her way into his car. Alice has a lot of enemies. She's stubborn, unforgiving, and has sharp nails. The difference between Alice and me is she doesn't hesitate. She lashes out. There have been a lot of fights in the girl's bathroom. Vick and Alice are a tag team.

Hence me staying real quiet. Hence my limbs trembling. He's watching me from afar. It's me, not anyone else.

They don't know.

I can't eat. I can't sleep. I've been avoiding all windows in my house.

Friday night, we're at the court. It's not for basketball anymore. A bar opened in the old building beside it. Some kids get in, others hang out around it. It's stupid, it's so stupid, but there's nothing to do here but walk around town and end up here. We shoot the shit, smoke, and do whatever devious things come to mind.

The cars come piling in; they park and blare music from old speakers. Tailgating, hood-lounging, anything to get away from the house and badgering parents.

Pete is whispering to a girl by the brick wall. Bree is fuming. She tries not to show it, but she's hurt. I grab her hand between us, the hood of Alice's car still warm beneath us. She hangs on for a while, but when he gets in the car far away with the girl in the back seat, she shakes me off. She goes for another poor chump across the street. It's fast, panther-like. She has him like putty in her arms. It's a talent.

I'm pretty sure Vick hates no one. I've never really seen her with a guy. Well, one. There are always two or more, and she doesn't do much but talk. She's loud. Smart. Witty. And brings in new people into the tight-knit circle who no one ever thought would fit in. They go from nerd to stud, from mousy to comedian in a matter of days. She sees gold. She sees the best in people and brings them out into the light. Well, the dim ones at least, the streetlights that beam down over us.

People hover around her. They laugh and watch her chug on a forty right from the paper bag. No breathing. Alice stands by and follows her everywhere. They're the extroverts. Bree and I, we're the bleeding hearts.

The back door to the bar opens.

A chain of guys from other neighborhoods spill out. Some are older, out of high school. We mix in, a fusion of taste, street cred, drugs, sex, and fucking great music.

If Mom knew this is where I hang, she'd have my head.

Then comes Edward behind them. The bar spills out loud music and smoke. He steps out, and it isn't new that he gets to go inside anytime he wants. After all, Dad isn't the only one in town with tight affiliations with the Cullen men. What the Cullen's invest in, Edward gets free passes.

His fingers curl around a bottle neck. I look at those and squirm. I look left. I look right. I'm suddenly all alone.

Ben drives up just in time. He climbs out, and girls go after him without hesitating. His smile is wide. He looks around. I wait.

It always happens without fail.

He spots me, and his smile turns tender. A smirk forms its way to his plump lips. He never goes on with his day without folding me into a tight embrace.

I hang on this time. I didn't know how much I needed it. I sneak into the crook of his neck where leather meets warm skin. Just when I should probably let go, I don't. He does that dance where he squeezes again.

"You all right?" he says in my ear. All I do is nod.

He kisses my lips. A peck. It's like night and day. No spark. No caved knees under me, not like before. Now it's … I want to cry.

It feels different. I don't tell him this. I'll tell no one. But just this past weekend things changed. Now he's a saving grace. A guy I love dearly who helped me get through a lot of shit. I'm hoping this is another thing he can lend an ear for.

I've always wanted more with him. He's felt it, too. At that party, a few months back, it almost did happen. But Ben always has too much on his plate. The proof is standing by waiting for this exchange to finish; girls, all ages.

I pull him away by his jacket and smile. He watches closely. He knows something is off, but maybe it's not the time.

"Later," I tell him.

As if I've made a siren call, the subject of this ache in my chest comes creeping in. I open my eyes over Ben's shoulder after another hug and Edward is standing there, not a foot away.

My stomach plummets. I freeze up.

Ben turns and sees. He nods. "'Sup, man?" he offers. He looks at Edward from head to beat up sneakers. He sidesteps him because Edward doesn't move—he's never the one to move.

Edward says nothing. He watches only me. "I got what you wanted," he says, and hands me over his half-filled beer. He walks away with this look in his eyes.

Word play. One sentence, two different meanings. He does have something I never thought I wanted.

Bree watches from far away. Ben is quickly distracted, not really thinking anything of it, and now he's left, too.

I'm left reeling.

My hands wrap around a lukewarm beer, label half off. I look down at it.

I find his eyes; he's sitting in his car. I bring the bottle to my lips. I take a sip. His smart mouth to my trembling lips.

Lukewarm, to warmth, to heat.

I can't breathe because I know that when we meet again, and no eyes are around to witness this bubble, we will blow.

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