Across The Hall (29 page)

been made by wiping his hands off against his pants. There were four evenly spaced ones under a horseshoe on his right leg. Those were definitely

made from resting his left shoe across his knee. I fol owed one up near the inseam that I was pretty certain was a spil of some sort. The spil stain

ended by where what was probably the original indigo of the jeans began. I was intrigued by the yel ow of the stitching along the fly against the dark

blue.

I liked the way the fly pul ed over on the left, revealing the top two buttons. I worried that I may have been blushing a little when I thought about

unbuttoning those two buttons. I bit my lip remembering what it was like. I may or may not have been a little tingly in the right places, too. I quickly

looked up at Quinn to see if I was caught. I forgot that he had sunglasses on. I couldn’t real y see his eyes to see if he was watching me. I sighed

when I realized I was safe.

He seemed to be absent-mindedly licking his ice cream cone and nodding to whatever Sloane had just said. Two places of my body involuntarily

clinched when I saw his tongue flick out in a pink flash and a little swirl along the cold white cream and retract it back into his mouth. After it

unclenched, my heart beat a bit faster. As his lips briefly closed, I thought about how cool they would feel against my lips. His tongue peeked out,

removing the trace amount of cream left on his lips. It would be sweet and cold and oh so hot al at the same time.

The tingles struck again as he stuck his tongue back out more slowly. This time it wasn’t a quick, curled tongue. This was a slow, flat against it,

smoothing it out lick. My breath came a little quicker as I imagined the feel of that drawn out lick. I sucked in a breath and sighed as he turned the

cone, sweeping his tongue along it as it turned. He drew it back in his mouth once more. When it shot out again it took quick little laps. It seemed to

just flick against the ice cream, when it touched it, rather than actual y take any away.

I definitely felt a flush creeping up my chest, past my throat and onto my cheeks. I blinked, hoping to clear the image but when I opened my eyes,

he had his mouth closer to the cone. His lips were parted just a touch as he leaned forward slightly and kissed the ice cream as he took a bite. I

may have moaned a little at that. Al my girly parts were absolutely alive, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Quinn’s mouth. He had a tiny drop of

sweet vanil a right on the top edge of his upper lip. The pink of his tongue was slightly diluted with white as he skimmed his lips with it before

flipping up to remove the sticky sweetness.

I think my mind may have exploded.

Kai gave my shoulder a tiny shove and I turned to glare at her, embarrassed that she caught me staring again. She just pointed at my now melted

ice cream. Kai shook her head and laughed at it.

I knew I was bright red by that point. “Stop laughing Kai. I wanted it to melt.”

Her laughter didn’t stop, and soon I felt the vibrations of that chuckle along the side of my head. I slowly woke up only to comprehend that I was

dreaming. Kai’s high picthed giggle changed into Quinn’s low rumble. As I became more alert I gradual y became annoyed with the tickling of his

chest hair against my nose. I wiggled my head to try to relieve the itch.

“Sylvia?” He asked quietly checking to see if I was awake.

I made some sort of noise that could have been a snort or a moan.
A snoan? A moart?

He must have taken that as confirmation that I was. “What did you want to melt?”

“What?” I was confused. I vaguely remembered Kai laughing in my dream as I woke up but I didn’t remember anything melting. I sat up. The pain

slammed into my head and my stomach flipped. I dropped back down with my hand pressed against my forehead.
Why? Why? Why did I drink

that crap last night?
I knew perfectly wel what it would do to me. Everyone else had tried it that first year but I hadn’t until the second. I slept on the

floor of the communal bathroom on our floor and then was sick for two days after I tried it the first time. After that, I never had more than one drink

when Reed would pass it around.

I felt Quinn shift from below me and sensed that he was looking at me. I lifted my hand so that I was peeking up at him. He was stil in the same

black shirt from the night before. It was unbuttoned and very wrinkled. It had obviously been slept in. I realized that he had slept in the bed with me. I

knew I should care about that, but my head hurt so bad I just couldn’t bring myself to.

“Sylvia, are you okay?” He whispered. “You never did take that Tylenol. I’l grab it for you.” My eyes fol owed him as he got off the bed, picked up a

water glass, and walked to the door. Once he was out of sight I flung my arm over my head, covering my eyes. If I held real stil , my head didn’t hurt

as bad.

I tried to recal just why Quinn was in my bed. I thought back over the night and remembered what happened with Beau. I wanted to die. I couldn’t

imagine what the others were thinking about me right now. I didn’t know what I’d done to cause him to behave like that. I had talked to Quinn in front

of him, but not more than I did with anyone else in the room. I was torn. If I talked to him, Beau would be pissed. If I didn’t, the others would suspect

something.

I guess the little that I did was enough to piss Beau off. On the plus side, hopeful y after that he wouldn’t be coming back. I was hurt and

embarrassed that he’d said that in front of my friends but I was angry, too. How dare he? That was no one else’s business. I planned to tel him that,

too, if he cal ed. I wasn’t about to cal him. As far as I was concerned it was over between us.

That stil didn’t explain why I’d woken up with Quinn. The fact that he was stil wearing his clothes gave me hope that nothing had happened. My

memory was fuzzy about everything after everyone left. I remembered arguing with Quinn and drinking Reed’s flask. I wanted him to leave then, so I

was confused about why he was stil there.

I risked the pain and dizziness and raised my head to see what I was wearing. It wasn’t the dress so I must have changed at some point. The shirt

I had on was blue and I tried to recal which one it was. Then I realized it was Quinn’s shirt from high school. How the hel did I end up in that? It was

at the bottom of my drawer. I hadn’t worn it in forever. I somehow doubted that I was the one that had put that on.

Those thoughts were stopped when Quinn came back in.

“Sylvia?” He whispered.

I sat up, and instantly regretted it. I winced as the pain and dizziness washed over me. Quinn sat down beside me. In one hand he held two

Tylenol and in the other a bottle of Powerade. I wondered where that had come from. I didn’t have that in my fridge.

When he saw me staring at the Powerade he said, “I had some at home. I thought this would be better for you than just water. You know,

rehydrate you and al .” I took the Tylenol out of his hand and he opened the bottle for me. He rubbed soft circles on my back while I drank. “Is there

anything else I can do for you?”

“No, I just need to take a shower and get some caffeine.” Quinn chuckled softly when he steadied me after I stood up and swayed towards him. I

tried to glare at him but it hurt my head when I did. He walked with me al the way to the bathroom. I was wondering if he planned on staying or if he

would be gone when I got out. I had a nagging memory in the back of my head of him tel ing me he was never going to let me go again, but I couldn’t

bring it into focus. I wasn’t sure if it was a real memory or just one from a dream.

We stood awkwardly outside the bathroom door, neither knowing what to say. “Um... so... yeah, I’m just gonna go...” I motioned behind me

towards the shower.

“Oh. Sure. Sorry.” Quinn fumbled as he backed away from the door. We kept eye contact as we both moved away. Final y, I turned and shut the

door.

I don’t want to even describe the mess I saw in the mirror. I took care of al my pre-shower needs and then climbed in under the hot spray. I stood

there grateful y and let the hot water beat against me, relaxing me yet waking me at the same time. I stretched my neck from one side to the other,

just trying to work out the headache that refused to leave. I tried to recal what Quinn and I had talked about after we came out of the bedroom. I

wasn’t sure, but I thought I may have told him about Beau’s threat. I was thankful and relieved that he told Beau to leave, but I was also worried that

he might try to hurt Quinn because of it. If I didn’t tel him last night about the threat, I needed to today. Beau left because Reed and Sloane were

there, too. But Reed and Sloane wouldn’t always be around Quinn. I was trying to puzzle out what would be the best thing to do about Beau and

Quinn when my water started to get cold. I quickly washed my hair and body and got out.

I looked around and realized the only clothes I had in there with me were my underwear and the Lobato shirt. I could either put those on or wrap

the towel around me. I opted for the shirt and underwear, figuring he’d already seen me in that. I smiled down at the shirt in my hand. I knew Quinn

had to have been the one who put it on me. For some reason, it felt good that he wanted to put his name on me. Which was sil y. He probably just

reached in the drawer and pul ed out the first thing he touched.
Yeah, cause the one on the bottom is always the first thing you touch.

I opened the door. I could hear him doing something in the kitchen. I quickly slipped into my bedroom to get dressed. My head stil hurt like a

bitch, but the dizziness was gone. I pul ed on my faded QSHS sweats and thought about leaving the shirt on. I ended up changing into the one that

said, “I do al my own stunts.” Reed thought it was hilarious when he gave it to me last year. Fal down the stairs a couple times and you never live it

down. I could smel toast as I stopped in the bathroom on my way to the kitchen to grab my comb and a hair band. I snickered, remembering the

contents of his cupboards, that was probably about al he could make.

Quinn was sitting on my couch with a couple bottles of Coke, two glasses of juice and plates with toast. He didn’t hear me come out. He was

sitting on the edge of the cushions. His forearms were resting on his knees and he was looking down between them at the floor. I studied him,

sitting there like that. He looked so stressed. He must have gone home and changed. He was in a pair of jeans now and a plain white t-shirt. His

hair was stil everywhere. If I didn’t know him better, I would have doubted that he’d even combed it when he’d gone home. I knew he had, but his

habit of playing with his hair when he was upset made it appear as if he hadn’t touched it. I estimated the scruff he had along his jaw was now four

days old. I liked how it felt against my ear and neck this morning when he leaned down to whisper to me. I sighed and dropped my gaze to the

plates. He had made toast, and on mine he’d put my favorite, cream cheese with raspberry jam. His had peanut-butter.

“Stil won’t eat jam, huh? Some people just don’t know what they’re missin’.” He looked up at me as I clicked my tongue and shook my head.

“Why would I want to put smashed berries al over my perfectly good peanut-butter?” He grinned up at me, remembering our long-running

argument about the best thing to put on toast.

I sat down next to him and reached for the pop. There is nothing better than the tingly burn of a carbonated beverage in the morning. Others could

have their espressos and lattes. Give me a twenty ounce Coke and I’m a happy person. Or at least a content one. After my initial caffeine fix I

gingerly picked up the toast and took a bite. It looked so good, but my stomach just didn’t want it. I set it back down, grabbed the pop, and sat back

against the corner of the couch. I pul ed my knees up and wrapped my arms around them. I watched Quinn as he ate his toast.

“Can’t eat yet?” He asked with his mouth ful . I shook my head. He swal owed. “If you ate normal stuff on your toast you probably could.”

I kicked my leg out at him, making contact with his thigh. He grabbed my foot and started tickling it. “Stop it,” I pleaded through the giggles. I

kicked both feet at him and he final y let go. He sat back against the couch. The smile was gone and a serious look was in its place.

“Sylvia, we need to talk.” I cringed. I knew this was coming. I wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to talk about, so I waited for him to continue.

He shifted on the couch so he was facing me. His brow was slightly creased and his lips pursed like he was debating on what to say. Final y, he

took a deep breath and looked me in the eye.

“I’ve been wanting to tel you this for the past couple weeks. I hated that you were gone the next morning. I had so much I needed to tel you.”

“I’m sorry. I just had to work some things out,” I mumbled.

“I know. I figured you were out over-analyzing it.” He flashed me a little grin. “You just didn’t wait until you had al the information.” I real y didn’t

have anything to say, so I just waited for him to continue. The silence stretched as he searched my face. I didn’t know what he was looking for, but

he must have found it because he continued.

“Sylvia, I know I screwed up when I let you go. I have never gotten over you. Now that I have found you again I want nothing more than to be in your

life forever.” He reached over and took my hand and gently squeezed it. “I love you. I never stopped loving you. These past years have been empty