My Only (2 page)

“Not tonight,” I responded as I stood up and gathered my dishes and I quickly rinsed them then placed them in the dishwasher before heading upstairs to my room.

My room was my sanctuary. It was simplistic with a few posters covering the cream-colored wal s, most of them of Sci-Fi related, but there were some of comic book characters, too. My twin bed was covered in a plain black comforter. The Little Boy Blue lamp I’d had since I was a baby sat on top of my nightstand.

The sun was slowly setting, reminding me that summer was truly over and fal was here. I was happy to be back in school, working toward academic excel ence once again. I’d be busy with marching band until mid-October or so. After that I’d keep busy messing around with my friends.

Mainly we watched sci-fi shows, played
World of Warcraft
, and dicked around in Casey’s garage, pretending we were in a rock band.

I sighed as I looked down at my open text book feeling like I couldn’t get into the assignment tonight. I was
always
into homework, it was
my
thing, the thing I was good at. I lacked focus for no real reason. School had been fine—not the greatest, but when had it ever been a good time?

Besides the academics, there wasn’t much about attending I liked. It was stil early enough in the school year that the jocks and other popular kids weren’t bored enough to ful y pick on the rest of us.

As I paced my room, I looked out of my window for just a second and I saw her, across the street in the second story middle window. My feet stopped. My whole body stopped. As if I was transfixed, I watched her as she danced. Her hips moved back and forth and her arms were above her head as dark hair swirled around her face like a ragged stage curtain. Through the gaps, I could see that her eyes were closed and she was smiling. She had on a tight, blue T-shirt and a pair of shorts, both of which left most of her skin exposed.

She looked so . . . so . . . so what? Beautiful? Yes, absolutely. Sexy? Without a doubt. But there was something else, something more important than al of that.

She looked
free.

I wondered what she was listening to. I wondered if she did this al the time. I wondered if she knew she was being watched whether she’d dance differently or at al .

I didn’t have to wait to find out because she must have caught a glimpse of me and she stopped, cocked her head, and narrowed her eyes a bit.

I was frozen. I should’ve backed away immediately. I should’ve dropped the blinds before she’d even had the chance to real y process that I’d been staring at her.

But I didn’t. I just stood there watching her as she looked back at me. Our eyes connected and then the softest grin played on her lips as she started to dance again.

I stood there for a moment longer just watching her be free, dancing as if I wasn’t over here studying her every move.

When she turned around, her hips stil moving, her arms stil in the air, I forced myself to lower the blinds. I went over to my desk, but as I sat there with an open history textbook, tapping my pen against it, I kept thinking about the girl in the window. When did she get there? Why was she dancing? How did she know the Cartwrights? Was she staying long? Why didn’t she seem embarrassed that she’d been caught dancing in front of an open window? What was that little grin about? Why was I thinking about her and not World War I ?

Aaron and I shared the first class of the morning: Current Events. Wel , it was technical y Homeroom, which turned into our first class of the day. I took it because given my love of history, I could discuss the events unfolding now that would later be viewed in a historical context. It would give me a much better perspective on world news, and also forced me to sit down with my dad and actual y watch the news every day.

Aaron took the class because he’d heard Mr. Bel man al owed people to talk whenever they wanted to. That and Maya Conway was taking the class, too. Aaron was mistaken because Mr. Bel man only al owed people to talk when cal ed upon. When he pointed to students to talk, he expected them to share an important current event or make a justified, wel -thought-out comment in regards to an issue previously brought up.

Mr. Bel man was late starting today, and everyone took the opportunity to chat with their neighbor. I had no one to talk to. Casey and my other friends weren’t in this class. My brother sat on the opposite side of the classroom—maybe in an attempt to distance himself from me. Perhaps he didn’t want anyone to mistake him for me, not that it was something that happened. We were identical twins, but we were far from identical.

Aaron was tal and muscular. I wasn’t short, but he had at least two inches on me. I was scrawny. I had
some
muscles, considering I spent time in marching band, but they were nothing like his. He was a jock. He worked out al the time.

He was a talented athlete, and I was just a guy on the drumline.

My brother was smart, and he could’ve gotten better grades, but instead he chose to focus on the social aspects of high school. While I got As in every class, he got low Bs for failing to complete homework. He rarely studied for quizzes and tests, but when we took our SATs and our ACTs, he hunkered down and ended up scoring nearly as high as I did.

Aaron already knew that he was going to Duke to study Political Science. The only thing I knew was that I didn’t hate history, so I’d probably study that. I had no idea what I’d do with a history degree after graduating from my as yet unnamed col ege.

Our differences weren’t just in regards to physical appearance and talent. Aaron was not only social, he was
good
at being social. Girls adored him. He always knew what to say, and he could do this thing with his eyes that they loved. It looked like he was just narrowing them a bit. I didn’t get the fascination with it, but I wanted to do it nonetheless. One would think I could do it, too, but after countless hours looking at my contorting face in the mirror, I realized that I couldn’t.

Aaron had lost his virginity to a sophomore girl his freshman year. It had been his only goal when he got into ninth grade. He’d probably had more sex since than the average col ege guy.

Meanwhile, I was stil a virgin. Clare Matthews had let me touch her boob last year, but it was only over her shirt. I doubted that Clare would ever let someone see her without a shirt. She was pretty shy about her weight. Clare wasn’t big or anything. Actual y, she was
under
weight, and her breasts were smal . Some of Aaron’s friends made fun of her for it. It was bad enough she was picked on because she played flute, but they also targeted her because she wore the hand-me-down clothes of her older sister, who was tal er and curvier than Clare. It seemed supremely wrong that they would pick on her breast size to boot. She couldn’t do anything about that, or the fact that her parents didn’t make much money.

Aaron laughed loudly as he sat askew in his chair, his arm draped over the back with his hand resting on Maya’s desk. Everyone around him was leaning in to hear what he had to say. Mr. Bel man cal ed the class to order, but before we got to talk about the happenings of the world,
she
walked in. It was the girl from across the street, the one dancing in the Cartwrights usual y dark, upstairs room.

Her hair was pul ed up into a simple ponytail, revealing five silver hoops in each ear. She had on low-slung jeans and one of those baby T-shirts.

It was green and said “Jamaican Me Crazy” on the front. As she neared Mr. Bel man, an office slip in hand, I saw that the shirt had ridden up just slightly on her back because of the bag slung over her shoulder. That patch of revealed skin was mesmerizing.

“Class, this is Olivia Cartwright. It’s her first day, so please, make her feel welcome.” He pointed to a seat in the middle of the room and she seemed so confident as she took her seat. Class resumed after that, but the rest of the period was a blur. Al I did was look at her, and it was obvious that I wasn’t the only one. Aaron was quick to rush over to her when the class was over. She beamed at him as he offered to help her find her next room. For some reason, my heart sank as they left together.

She was al I could think about during band practice. She was al I could think about during work after that. Luckily, the Barnes & Noble bookstore I worked for wasn’t busy tonight and I spent most of the night stocking the shelves. It al owed my mind to unnecessarily obsess about Olivia Cartwright.

At home, Aaron was beside himself thinking of someone he hadn’t conquered yet.

“She’s total y hot, don’t you think?” he asked me as I made some peanut butter toast. At home was when Aaron spoke to me the most. He’d probably gotten home after footbal practice and spent the whole night talking on the phone with his friends about her.

“She’s pretty.” It was al I could say in response. I didn’t want to have a conversation about her—especial y with my brother. I couldn’t stand the thought that she’d be just another one of his girls.

He was sort of a “male slut.” He hadn’t had sex with
all
the girls in our grade, but he was stil a player. Some he wouldn’t touch because they were beneath his standards, like Clare. Then there were the girls who were pretty
and
smart, and saw through his charm and good looks. They didn’t give him the time of day. Even some of the girls he dated hadn’t done it with him.

He was pretty vocal about al of the girls he
had
done stuff with. Aaron unfortunately liked to keep me (and everyone else) informed of his conquests. He dated Autumn for more than seven months. They had sex
a lot
, according to him. Then there were Trista and Gretchen, both of whom were the aftermath of the Autumn break-up. After those two, he’d gotten wasted one weekend and had sex with Heather, who was captain of the varsity field hockey team. Then he moved on to a four-month relationship with benefits with Liane. Most recently, he was bragging about his sex-buddy status with Chelsea Carr, the preacher’s granddaughter. He said she was total y cool with the arrangement and it was freeing for him to not be “involved.”

He’d been lusting after Maya for a while now, touting her to be his next soul mate. Kel y Volk was his alternate. Now it seemed that Olivia was going to be his new target.

It sucked. I didn’t want to hear about how much he wanted to get with her. It was her first day in school and already he, and others, had her in their sights. It wasn’t that I had delusions that I had a shot with her or anything. I knew my place in the high school hierarchy and it wasn’t next to girls like her. I’d probably go to school tomorrow and she’d already be in the cool clique. She was probably going to turn out to be a cheerleader or an artsy, smart girl who was so happy and fun-loving that she was instantly accepted into the folds of the in-crowd.

That was the way of high school. Some kids could be artists, musicians, theater kids, poets, and stil be cool. But for some reason, others of us just couldn’t.

When I could get away from my brother, I went up to my room to do a little homework. I did most of the work from morning classes during lunch and some of what was due this afternoon during study period. It was late and dark outside. The blinds were stil open and I was drawn to the window. Up and down the street, al of the houses looked settled in for the evening. Straight across the way, Olivia sat in front of the window, looking down at something right in front of her.

Maybe she was sitting at a desk and was working on homework like I should’ve been doing. She had beautiful hair – light brown with honey streaks through it.

She swept her hand through her hair, pul ing it away from her face. I could real y only see her forehead and the slope of her nose, but it didn’t matter. The replay of her dancing stil swirled in my head, and the sight of her up close in the classroom was burned into my brain.

There were a lot of pretty girls in Lakeside, Il inois, and there were even more pretty girls a few miles south in Chicago, but I could say without a doubt that Olivia was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen.

She looked up and my heart thumped at being caught staring at her again. My face grew hot, and just as I was about to step back and pul the blinds, she smiled and then raised her hand in greeting. I was dumbfounded. I felt unable to do anything for long moments, but final y I came to my senses and waved back.

Her grin widened, but then she looked back down at whatever she was working on.

I took the opportunity to lower the blinds. Backing away from the window and sitting down on my bed, I felt like my head was spinning. She smiled at me. At
me
!

My heart was stil pounding as I sat there and played out every future scenario in my mind. I imagined myself going to school tomorrow and walking right up to her. In my fantasy, I would introduce myself to her, and we would walk to class together and sit next to each other, until final y at the end of the day, she would invite me over.