Again (18 page)

Carter

“You’re
not, like, embarrassed to kiss me because I did better on the quiz than you or
something, right?” Kate asked, stopping on the quad, her cheeks pink and her
eyes shining in the overhead lights, her breath warm in the cold.

We’d
met at the library to study the past two nights. All we had done those nights
was study and all I had done was stare at her lips, wishing we weren’t in the
library. Wishing we weren’t studying, wishing the campus wasn’t around us,
holding me back from her, stronger than any two arms.

“No,”
I laughed. I couldn’t help but glance around. The quad was quiet on a weeknight
at eleven o’clock p.m. There were people out but not the steady stream of only a
few hours earlier.

“So
what are you waiting for?” she asked in the direct way I had grown to admire.

“There’s
no schedule,” I said, buying time.

What the hell was I waiting for?

I’m
not sure why I hadn’t yet. I’d wanted to. It was my only thought when she spoke
to me, when I watched her lips move. The whole room fell away except those
lips, like my own personal viewing  of
The Rocky Horror Picture
Show
,
her perfect pink lips, the color of new tulips, the shape of two hearts against
black.

“It
feels like there is, like you’re pausing or something.”

Clearly
she sensed my hesitation, too bad I couldn’t explain it had nothing to do with
her. When it came to her all I felt was
yes
, never maybe, but we were
back on campus and kissing her was something I didn’t think I had the right to
do here.

At
least I hadn’t until she’d brought it up.

“I
want to kiss you, there is pretty much nothing I’ve ever wanted more,” I said,
pulling my bag higher on my shoulder, needing to keep my hands there for now,
because if I would have just touched her, kissed her, I might have knocked her
over.

“Okay.”
Amusement flickered across her face, “Just remember, I’m patient, but I’m not
dead.”

A current
pulsed between us, even more evident because of the cold. Or maybe it had been
building since that weekend. Each moment we spent with each other another spark
ignited on the track of a roller coaster only going up. “You’re one of the most
alive people I’ve ever met,” I said.

She
moved closer to me, the tips of her boots touching mine. “You say there isn’t a
schedule, but you should consider following one. It might make this whole thing
easier.”

“So
what would tonight be?”

“Counting
the night we met…” She considered. “…Our fifth date.”

“What
do people do on their fifth dates?” I asked, leaning toward her.

“They
don’t have to ask for someone to kiss them, for starters,” she said, licking
her lips so they sparkled in the night.

Urgency
hummed inside me, a throb, a scream for more. “What do they ask for?”

“Are
you going to make me beg?” she laughed.

I
reached out for her, gripped the small of her back, startling her laugh into a
gasp. I stroked her cheek, making the anticipation last. Letting the
before
build like the flood I felt when I was around her. I ran my thumb against her
top lip, her bottom lip, her chin, forcing it to be too much, something I
couldn’t keep myself from drowning in.

“Beg,”
I said. Our lips were millimeters away.

Her
heartbeat drummed through her coat, her breath smelled of sweet coffee, her
pulse beat behind her cheeks.

“On
my knees?” she asked, her eyes blazing. The flood was filling her, too.

I
wiped away a snowflake from her cheek, shiny like a tear.

“On
my back?” she whispered, thrusting her body closer.

The
flood was at my chin. Soon it would be at my lips and kissing hers would be the
only way I could breathe. The only way I could save us, the only thing that
might ever save me.

“What
do you suggest?” I asked, sliding my hands lower on her waist.

“You
could beg,” she said, an arresting smile dazzling on her lips.

I
studied her, her open brown eyes, her delicate chin, and her wild hair. I
wished I could bury my nose in it, smell her, a sweetness mixed with something
burned like sugar cookies baking.

“Once
I kiss you, I’ll want to do more, a lot more,” I admitted, the words shaking
between us.

“More
is okay,” she said. “Sometimes,” she breathed, “more is suggested.”

I
couldn’t keep the flood down anymore. I hurled my mouth on top of hers right
there in the center of the quad—nothing to hide behind and nothing more to say.

People
walked around us, path lights blazed, buildings stood, the campus stirred, but
we were still, together, planted in our moment.

We
kept kissing feverishly as the snow came down as soft as feathers, her lips so
hot they could melt everything. Her hands were tight on my back, so tight I
could tell she was drowning like I was. We were all we could hold onto in this
whole world.

I
was strong enough to hold her and she seemed strong enough to hold me right
back.

Maybe
I didn’t have to be afraid of what other people would say to her, maybe she was
all I needed. Maybe she was all that mattered.

Kate

I’d
convinced Dawn to come with me to the SPCA volunteer day on Saturday. It only
took half an hour of showing her the pictures on my phone of the super cute
kittens and puppies I’d met when I got stuck there with Carter. Like any good
Goth, good straight edge, she was a vegan too. A vegan could only see animals
in cages for so long before she would eventually agree to anything.

It
was like my own version of adorable animal picture-boarding

I
was fine with Carter one on one, but we’d never hung out with other people
around. Not that Dawn was the kind of person who seemed like she’d do better in
a group.

She
sat in the backseat of Carter’s Jeep next to me, wearing her usual abnormal
level of black. She could have used the pavement we drove over as camouflage.
Carter’s friend Tristan rode shotgun.

I
could tell Carter wanted me in front with him. We did that weird
where
should I sit
dance when we first got to the car, but there was no way I
would put anyone in the backseat with Dawn.

I
was scared enough to be back there myself.

“We’re
seriously the only people who signed up?” she asked, clearly unimpressed when
Carter explained no one else was coming from school.

I
knew what she meant. The dorm, hell, the campus, was a very big place with thousands
of students and only four of us had signed up?

Were
people that selfish, or was there something I was missing?

Of
course, I never would have signed up to do something like this my real freshman
year.

I
never would have signed up for something like this if it wasn’t for Carter.

“It’s
double the turnout from Hudson we got last year,” Tristan said.

“Glad
we could help,” I said, smiling so hard at Dawn it hurt.

It
was odd, like a lot of things involving Carter, but I certainly didn’t have a
right to judge.

“There
will be people there from the community, too,” Carter said, sending the same
smile over to Tristan I’d laid on Dawn.

Obviously
there was a hell of a lot more in the car going unsaid rather than uttered. We
rode on in silence, realizing that competing with the unspoken was futile.

Dawn
put on her headphones and I leaned against the window, blowing condensation in
a circle.

I
couldn’t help but wonder if Carter and I would have been talking if we were
alone, if we would have tried to compete with everything left unspoken between
us. Everything we felt for each other that we still hadn’t completely consummated.

It
was probably good Dawn and Tristan were there. At least then we could avoid
talking about us—because
us
was a whole thing.

We’d
started sneaking kisses. It had become a part of our routine, but there was something
hasty about them, something hidden. It wasn’t like Carter walked me to my door,
or even to the door of the dorm. We would kiss good-bye in the shadows before
we arrived. I would go in the front door and he would take the stairs—ten whole
flights just to avoid going in with me.

He
said it was because he was my RA, but that excuse was wearing thin.

Whatever—if
he was really hiding what was going on between us he wouldn’t have asked me to
come with him today.

Ugh,
what was the difference?
It wasn’t like we could have a future or anything. No matter how much I kept
fooling myself into believing it.

The
sun was shining when we parked in front of the SPCA. There were bright balloons
flying on both sides of the porch announcing the specialness of this day. It was
what balloons did best, staying useful only for the amount of time your
celebration lasted, physical symbols of that blast of happy and deflating when
real life came back.

“Oh
goody,” Dawn sneered. “Balloons are my favorite.”

I
wasn’t surprised. She wouldn’t show that any of this appealed to her. Balloons,
kittens, and puppies would be something she would have claimed to have on a
list to make a potion from rather than something she would celebrate. But I
also knew her better now; she played a part, like I did.

“You
can bring one back to the dorm,” Carter sneered back. “I’ll save you a pink
one.”

“No,”
Tristan bleated, “the pink ones are for me.”

“So
predictable,” Carter laughed.

I
liked seeing Carter this way. He was comfortable, so in his element with
Tristan.

I also
liked seeing Dawn this way. She rolled her eyes, but I could tell she was suppressing
a laugh.

We
walked into a house transformed since the night Carter and I had been stuck
here. A phone bank sat in front of the cat cages, a table with donuts and
coffee banked along the side of the room, and people were everywhere, answering
phones, helping visitors with adoptions, passing out water bottles and visitor
passes.

We
waited by the coffee while Carter went and talked to the person in charge.

“Balloons
and holes,” Tristan said, pointing at the donuts, “I feel like I’m at a gay
pride parade.”

“You’re
seriously hilarious,” I said. I was glad I wasn’t drinking coffee because it
would have come out my nose.

“If
you can’t laugh at yourself,” he said.

“Someone
else will,” I replied.

He
nodded.

“Hopefully
today will be better than last year,” I said.

“Definitely
more interesting,” he said. I waited for him to look at Dawn but he kept his
eyes trained on me. I couldn’t help but blush.

“I
love animals,” I said as explanation for a question he wasn’t asking.

He
smiled for the response he didn’t need to give.

Dawn
grabbed a cup of coffee.

“Make
yourself at home why don’t you,” Tristan said.

“I
would never live somewhere with cat-piss-scented air freshener,” Dawn replied.

“I
guess you’d do better in a place with a moat,” Tristan said.

“Only
if you can’t swim,” Dawn said.

Tristan
pointed at his Hudson University Swim Team jacket. “Try again,” he smirked.

Luckily
Carter came back before they started trading actual blows. “Phone or snuggle
duty?” he asked.

“Phone,”
Dawn said before anyone else could answer.

“I’ll
take phone too,” Tristan said, so Carter and I could both be on snuggle duty,
whatever that meant.

If
Carter and I were alone we’d probably be on the same duty with a very different
result. I wondered if, at nineteen, all our kissing would have had me as hot
and bothered as it now did. I was beyond turned on. We might not be able to
have a future but damn if his lips didn’t make me enjoy the present.

We
walked into the back office and left Dawn and Carter at the phones. It was the
same place where we’d spent the night. The bed was gone, moved to make room for
couches. There were a few people sitting on them playing with dogs or cats.

Carter’s
features softened when he noticed me glance where the bed had been.

“Not
what you expected?” he asked.

“I heard
snuggle duty and I guess my mind wandered.”

He
touched my shoulder. “As it should. We’ll have time for that later,” he
whispered, his lips so close to my ear it made me tremble. “Right now, we’ll be
hitting the road, going to Kingston Commons with a kitten and a puppy to get
people interested in donating and adopting.”

“Oh,”
I said, trying to hide my excitement at our being alone in the car together.
Maybe later could be now.

We
headed out with a kitten named Ollie and a puppy named Patches in carriers
along with some water, treats, and a whole lot of paper towels.

“These
are required,” Carter said, holding them up.

When
we drove out of the parking lot, the sun was high in the sky and Ollie’s and Patches’
carriers were safely secured by seatbelts in the back.

“Thanks
for coming,” he said.

I
nodded. “I don’t understand why no one else from school is helping.”

Carter
paused and looked in the rearview mirror. “Guess I’m not as appealing to everyone
as I am to you.”

“I
am not here because you’re appealing,” I said, though who was I kidding?

He
took his eyes off the road for a moment and turned to me. “That’s why Tristan
is here,” he laughed.

“He’s
really awesome,” I said. I thought about him in the front seat while we drove
here. He had no doubt about who he was and wasn’t afraid to show it. I wondered
if his sense of self was more evident considering the three other people who
had been in the car.

“He
is,” Carter said, “but never tell him that. Otherwise you’ll never get rid of
him.”

Patches
started crying from the backseat. “I don’t think he likes cars,” I said,
reaching behind me to get him out of his cage and put him in my lap. He was a
squiggling ball of warm fur, licking my fingers as I tried to keep him still.

“What
about you and Dawn, is she your new BFF?” he asked with a smirk.

“I
probably would have had a much different answer a few weeks ago, but now I
actually like her a lot,” I said, putting Patches back in his cage once I’d
calmed him down.

“She’s
definitely intriguing,” he said, his eyes wide so I could tell he was being
sarcastic.

“Not
really.”

“What
do you mean?”

“Her
exterior is I guess, but she uses it to hide everyone seeing who she truly is, like
everyone else.”

“Like
you?” he asked.

“Like
everyone,” I said tightly.

He
nodded but didn’t respond. He wasn’t pushing it, which could only make me
wonder about what his exterior was hiding.

“I’m
pretty sure there isn’t anyone in the world who completely knows someone else.”

“I
agree,” he said, staring at the road.

I
couldn’t help hoping to change that, where Carter and I were concerned. I
really did want to know more about him, try and figure out why I couldn’t get
him out of my mind, even though I absolutely should have. Maybe he wasn’t ready
to tell me about his past, but there were mysteries I could unlock without
words. What his sweaty chest tasted like, what he felt like when he came.

“Pull
over,” I said, touching his knee.

He
moved to the side of the road without even hesitating. He shut the car off and
I slid my palm higher, rubbing him until he was hard.

“Are
you sure you want to do this now?” he asked.

“We’re
not doing
this,
” I unbuttoned the top button of his pants, slid my hand
in. “I am,” I said, touching his hot, soft skin.

He leaned
back into the seat, moaning, rocking toward me. He jerked against me, his body
begging for more.

He
exhaled, put his hand on my wrist, and stopped me. “Kate, you don’t have to.”

“What’s
wrong?” I asked. His rejection was like a knife of ice in my throat. It was the
first time I’d ever had someone say no to me when my hand was down his pants.

“I
want you. I want this. The real this,” he said, his eyes trying to hold me
still, “but not here.”

“Who
cares where we are?” I asked, pulling away and crossing my arms to tamp down my
embarrassment.

“You
deserve better than the side of a road, than something rushed, something
forgotten.”

“I’m
pretty sure you would never have forgotten what you stopped,” I said, pulling my
arms tighter against my chest.

He
breathed out, forced my arms free, and took my hand in his. “I already can’t,
and I’m not stopping. I’m waiting.”

“Waiting
for what?” I paused, and an uncanny realization lodged itself into my brain. I yanked
my hand away, suddenly wondering if I was a letch, “Crap, are you a virgin?”

He
laughed. “No, no, I just like you, a lot.”

“I
like you, too, a lot,” I said before I could stop. I
was
a letch.

“Good,
then let me show you that,” he said. He made me focus on his eyes, they were
soft, inviting. Begging me to understand he wasn’t saying no. He was saying
soon
.

“Next
time I’m not taking no for an answer,” I said as we shared a smile.

“I
can’t wait for next time.”