The Space In Between Page 11

  “Dance with me?”

  Chapter Twelve

  November 2014

  Emery

  This has got to be the craziest thing I’ve ever done, but at the same time, kind of the coolest.

  Sure, I’m the girl that stock piles books of all shapes and sizes, but none more than romance novels (the first love kind, not the ones your mom hides under her bed so you can’t get your grubby little hands on them). I get lost easily in the idea of coming to school, meeting someone by chance and having them affect your life in such a monumental way that by the end you couldn’t imagine your life without them.

  I can buy into the idea of first love easily. Even the everlasting kind. I just never thought it was something that could happen outside of the fictional realm.

  Now before you roll your eyes and start thinking this is my way of getting you to feel bad for the awkward girl, I don’t mean I didn’t see it happening for me. I’m talking for anyone. Have you ever seen the way love is in high school? It’s a joke and nothing like the stories I’ve read or the movies I’ve watched.

  It’s definitely not Notebook worthy.

  Then if you step away from high school entirely, I’ve never seen it happen in my own life either. My mom has been single for as long as I’ve been alive, and if it wasn’t for this new guy now, I wouldn’t believe it was possible for her either.

  It’s just always been the unattainable dream.

  After what happened at the Halloween dance a couple of weeks ago though, Christian and I admitting how we felt, and then him officially asking me out, it’s both crazy and cool, and almost like someone brought one of the books to life.

  The strangest part and what I ponder most when I’m on my own, is how things can be so different, yet not much has actually changed.

  It’s as if in saying yes to Christian and admitting I like him, it allowed us to ease back into what we had before. The comfortable way we just existed as friends, only this time with the added benefit of getting to kiss each other at random times throughout the day and not caring about who saw what or who even cared at all.

  Everything the same, just out in the open instead of buried inside.

  Meeting up before class and creating music together, one upping each other with random looks in our classes before eating lunch together, then hanging out in the bleachers after school before heading our separate ways home to commiserate through text until one or the both of us passed out.

  It’s all just the same as it was, and for some reason that’s strange to me.

  Isn’t there supposed to be this life altering change when you go through something as monumental as having your first boyfriend? Aren’t you supposed to wake up the next day and feel different, or, I don’t know, look different?

  If things are supposed to be different, I must have missed the memo.

  What I didn’t miss is the way he looks coming out of the gym in the sweat covered gray tank top emblazoned with the school crest, or the pause he does mid conversation with Jonah when he catches me out of the corner of his eye.

  I also don’t miss the half smile he gives me. The one that even a couple of weeks later still manages to make my stomach do somersaults.

  Watching Jonah continue to talk even though it’s obvious Christian isn’t paying attention, is kind of funny. With as hard as he tried forcing us to be together, cornering me in class and then what I found out later he was doing to Christian in the gym, he still can’t seem to catch on that once we’re around each other, nobody else exists.

  Yeah, I know. I’m officially one of those girls.

  The one coo-coo bananas over a guy and completely lost with no chance of saving.

  Smiling once Jonah finally stops talking and following Christian’s gaze straight to me, he waves before leaning in, saying something I can’t make out before slapping him on the back and heading in the opposite direction.

  Unable to stop the grin that rises when Christian finally comes up beside me and pulls me close, my breath halts in expectation as he leans down and brushes his lips against mine, only able to start up again once he’s pulled away wearing a grin of his own.

  “What did he say before he took off?”

  “Nothing you wanna hear, trust me. Guy stuff.”

  “Hey!” I pause, elbowing him in the side. “I happen to love guy stuff.”

  “And I happen to know that if I told you what he said, he probably wouldn’t be standing upright for a while, so let’s pretend he didn’t say a word.”

  “You might as well tell me. I’ll just get it out of you later.”

  With an exasperated sigh, he slips his arm from around me, moves back a couple of paces and brings his arm out in a whipping motion, adding the sound effect for good measure, which when he makes his way back over and pulls me to him again, earns him another shot in the side.

  “Did he really call you whipped?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then what was the whipping sound for?”

  “Oh, he said I was whipped, just not in those words. Think more along the lines of the stuff you put on your fruit.”

  “He called you Cool Whip?”

  “Give the girl a prize.”

  “I’m starting to think that maybe Jonah isn’t as dreamy as I made him out to be.”

  Laughing, he leans over and kisses the top of my head, pulling away long enough to cross the hall to his locker, making sure as he does to slip his hand down and through mine, bringing me along for the ride.

  Spinning the dial on his lock three times and being greeted by the familiar sound of it unlocking, he slips his bag down over his shoulder and unzips it, pulling out his books and tossing them inside before slinging the bag back up and slamming it closed.

  Before I can ready myself for the inevitable walk outside to my car, he surprises me, picking me up and spinning me around before placing me down and pushing me back until I can feel the jutting part of the metal of his locker grazing my back.

  “So I was thinking,” He leans in, brushing his lips against my nose. “My dad’s going out tonight, and since I don’t have a pile of homework to keep me company, I thought that this cute girl I know might want to.”

  “Keep you company how?”

  I know, I know.

  When your boyfriend basically tells you that he’s got the house to himself and he wants to spend the night with you, you’re supposed to jump at the chance, but I’m still new to this whole dating thing, so of course what comes out of my mouth instead is a jumble of fears about what keeping him company really means.

  “I was thinking a movie, but if that’s too cliché for you, maybe we could raid the closets and find a puzzle to do.”

  Puzzles.

  To an outsider, this would seem like a strange request, but for me and especially Christian, there’s meaning in it. One I learned about when after our music room dance session, we said our goodbyes to our friends and headed out to our spot overlooking the water.

  *****

  “Out of all the spots along these cliffs, why did you choose here?”

  “Not really sure. I’d been all over this area at one time or another snapping pictures, but there was just something about the view from here that made me stay.”

  “It’s the height, I think.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You can see everything from here and it goes pretty far out. If you moved, say, over there,” he gestures with his hand out and down to the right. “You’d see things, but from an angle, and I’m pretty sure it’s the same way on the left side too. Not quite as wide open as it is here.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you may have a slight problem with overthinking?”

  “Yeah,” he laughs softly. “All the time.”

  “For what it’s worth, I think you’re right. I just never gave it a lot of thought before. Didn’t seem to matter.”

  The truth is, when I’m up here, everything else just seems incredibly small and insignifican
t. You spend so much time taking in everything going on around you; the trees, water, boats, even the moon as it shines it’s illuminating glow, that thinking about the reason you’re here or why it’s this spot and not the ten other ones it could be just doesn’t seem all that important.

  It’s kind of nice to have someone else here who might think about all those things you miss.

  Having Christian here and having him care about something as trivial as why it’s this spot and not any other, adds a different element. I like it.

  “So ever since you mentioned it at school, I haven’t been able to think about much else.”

  “And what gem of wisdom would that be?”

  “Comparing our eyes to the beach. The way you used something I randomly blurted out and made it connect to us.”

  “As I recall, you called it a sign. Right before you said that you would fill me in on all of the other signs you’ve been getting that supposedly have to do with me.”

  “I think I said they were about us, and I didn’t forget. I can explain now if you want.”

  “In due time, Mikey. First you’re gonna tell me why you’re bringing up what I said about our eyes.”

  Running his free hand through his hair, he shifts his body around on the rock until he’s facing me, both of his hands encompassing mine, the smallest trace of a smile beginning to lift on his face.

  “It got me thinking about my mom.” He pauses and bringing our hands up to his lips, gently kisses them before continuing. “All good things I swear.”

  “What about her?”

  “Well, the beach being where we spread her ashes and our eyes reminding you of that, it’s almost as if that was her way of connecting us. Giving us a sign that even if we didn’t like each other, we’re supposed to be in each other lives in some way or another. But it did more than that. It also got me remembering other times with her.”

  “Christian…”

  “It’s okay, Emery. I told you. It’s all good things. These memories, they’re ones I don’t think that even when I was at my worst, ever came up, but they’re ones that now that I have them again, I don’t want to lose.”

  “So bringing up the beach earlier, it was more than just a random thing I noticed about us.”

  “I’m starting to think that nothing about us is random.”

  He’s not going to get an argument there. I’m also starting to think that just like nothing is random, it’s also not superficial or easy either. So far, every day that I’ve spent with him, it’s always been about what we’ve lost, what we want or have never had, but wish we did.

  Being with Christian…it’s different.

  “What did you remember?”

  “It’s gonna sound strange.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing I like strange.”

  “I remembered puzzles. Doing them with her before she got sick, and then after she was diagnosed, spending days getting lost in them.”

  “Any other memories or was it just that one?”

  “There was more, but the others were just memories I had of her and my dad together. Like, the two of them doing stuff together when they didn’t think I noticed or I should been in bed. Silly stuff.”

  Christian obviously doesn’t have a clue what’s silly and what’s not. The idea that me mentioning something kind of awesome that I noticed about our eyes having this kind of effect on him, bringing up memories that from the smile on his face and the light in his eyes don’t seem to be causing him distress or pain, there’s nothing silly about it.

  “What did you remember about your parents?”

  “Dad worked a double one night when I was ten. I remember it because we were supposed to be going to the movies that night. My mom, even after she got sick, was real big on doing family nights at least once a week. Anyway, he ended up not being able to go and so it was just me and her at home. She’d told me to go to bed around ten and I did, at least I did until I heard the front door open and their voices raising. Sleep wasn’t going to come after that, so I came out of my room and hid behind the wall just enough so they couldn’t see me. After a couple minutes of them going back and forth about how she felt he took work too seriously and how sorry he was, he grabbed her by the waist, held her close to him and they just started dancing.”

  I was right. He doesn’t have a clue.

  “That’s not silly. Christian. It’s sweet.”

  It’s romantic is what it is, What he’s describing, it’s the kind of relationship I would want if I was ever lucky enough to find someone that wanted the same thing. One that even when you do stuff that makes things messy, you still find a way to turn it around.

  Christian’s dad working, it did seem like he was putting it first, but standing in the doorway with his wife, a woman that he loved more than life, being sorry and then wanting to do something to make up for it, it’s genius.

  “So…is it working?”

  “Is what working?”

  “Me telling you some of my dad’s best moves, knowing that as his son they’ve probably passed on to me, and you calling them sweet. Is it working?”

  Slapping him lightly on the arm and laughing as I mouth the word no, he pretends to flinch and brings his lower lip out in a pout, lowering his gaze as he does it, but still failing miserably in his attempt to get me to feel sorry for him.

  “You’re such a jerk, Mikey.” As I lift my hand to shove at him again, it’s as if time stops and we’re being transported back to the last time we were here. He grabs ahold of my wrist gently, preventing me from getting my shot off and this time when he leans in, I’m ready for what’s about to happen.

  He kisses me softly, just the way I’ve imagined it happening in my mind, and this time I don’t pull away. This time, as the moon seems to cast its glow like a spotlight over the two of us, I do what I should have done then.

  I kiss him back.

  *****

  The memory of that night, mixed with his close proximity now, along with the mention of puzzles and the warm fuzzy feeling I get remembering the story of his dad dancing with his mom, it’s so overwhelming that it makes it hard for my next words to come out clearly.

  “You want to do…puzzles together?”

  “Yes, Emery. I would really like it if you would say yes to coming over tonight so we can sit at my kitchen table and do puzzles together.”

  Why is it that when he leans in close like this with his voice is all low, everything he says sounds so incredibly sexy? I mean, I never thought that sitting beside someone and doing a puzzle could be a turn on, but with the way he says it and the way his breath seems to warm me all the way through, it’s hard to think of anything hotter than a puzzle date.

  Jutting my hand out and pushing him back just a little, giving myself the space I need to assemble my thoughts and breathe easier again, I catch the playful smile on his face and it hits me.

  “You did that on purpose didn’t you?”

  “Maaybe.” He grins.

  “Why?”

  “Honestly, at first, just to get a rise out of you, but then when your eyes seemed to get darker and you kept stealing glances at my lips, I wanted to be a little selfish and see just how far I could take what was happening.”

  “You. Ugh. You’re such a guy.”

  “That’s a pretty solid observation, Ems. I am indeed a guy, but not just any guy.”

  “Oh yeah? What kind of guy are you?”

  “Hopefully the one you’re gonna come over tonight and save from being alone.”

  “And if I say no?”

  “Then I’ll just have to bring out the big guns.”

  Motioning with my hand for him to continue, wanting to know exactly what these big guns he speaks of are, he grins and moves in close again, using his body this time to pin me completely up against the flat part of his locker with his face lowered into mine so that I can look nowhere but straight up and into his enticing baby blues.

  “Mmmm,” he moans quietly. “You’re doing it agai
n, Emery.”

  “Doing w-what?” I ask, my voice cracking as I struggle to get the words out.

  “Oh, I don’t know…being gorgeous.” He says before capturing my lips with his, catching my bottom lip with his teeth and nibbling on it, driving the temperature in my body so high that he’s not the only one moaning. “Looks like the water just crashed into the shore.”

  Pulling back and giving us space, I shake off the residual effects of him being that close and how I reacted to his kiss and give him what he’s looking for by slipping my hand through his. All the while, his final words and what I know they mean playing on a repeated loop in my head, making what was already a jumbled brain mess, even worse.

  Leaning in one more time before starting to walk with me to the door, all traces of desire now completely erased from his eyes and his crooked grin back in place, he puts us back on topic.

  “So, I’ll see you at six?”

  Christian

  I’m pretty sure I managed to snag the coolest girl in the world to be my girlfriend.

  Where April had taken one look at the sweat soaking through Jonah’s clothes, and gotten out of dodge completely, Emery hadn’t wasted a second nestling herself into me the second I pulled her into my arms in the hall.

  A girl not being afraid of a sweat stained stinky guy.

  I hit the jackpot.

  And that wasn’t even the best part. That came later when overcome with the urge to kiss her, I’d pushed her back against my locker and done a whole lot more than just press my lips to hers.

  What can I say? I get within a couple of feet of this girl and all I want to do is touch her.

  I’m a guy, so it would be weird if I didn’t, but up until she crashed her way into my life a couple of months ago, I can’t say that the idea of touching a girl ever crossed my mind. And definitely not as much as it has been lately.

  She doesn’t have a clue, but sometimes, when I catch her moving down the hall, going from class to the newspaper office or hell, even from there to her locker, I’ve thought about just coming up behind her, sweeping her off her feet and bringing her into an empty class so that I can do a whole lot more than kissing.