Nothing Else Matters (7 page)

I pulled away slightly then stared into the eyes of my best friend, my first kiss, the girl who had grown into a woman right before my eyes. I stared at my Reyna, who cared for me whether I was the star athlete on the field or the loser who couldn't comprehend his chemistry homework.

I gently pinched her chin between my thumb and forefinger then leaned in to kiss her. I felt like I was drowning and her lips were my only source to oxygen. A whole new world had been opened up to me and I would never let it close. In that split second, I knew Reyna Luz Lewis was the one for me. I knew I was in love with her.

 The blindingly passionate kiss seemed to last for an eternity and encompassed the song. Our lips and tongues continued the dance our bodies had begun.

When the song ended, Reyna jerked away from me, abruptly breaking the seal of our lips. She stared at me as if in shock or, perhaps, in fear. I couldn't tell. Then she ran out of the club. Being petite, she was able to navigate through the crowd more quickly than me. But I caught up with her outside as she practically ran toward my car.

"Reyna, what's wrong?" I asked, grabbing her elbow to stop her in her tracks.

"I'm not doing this, Scott." She shook her arm loose and continued her retreat to the car.

"What are you so afraid of?"

"We're friends. Why can't we just leave it as that?" She reached for the door handle. I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward me.

"This is why." I leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head.

"Please, take me home, Scottie."

The ride home was silent and didn't last long enough. Mt. Pleasant was only a bridge away from Charleston. I didn't want to take her home. I didn't want to let her go. I knew she would run from this and perhaps never talk about it again.

  When we pulled up in front of her house, she didn't get out immediately like I thought she would. She just stared straight ahead. I decided to give it one more try. I reached out and caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into my hand.

  "Reyna," I whispered before leaning in to kiss her. The passion returned in an instant. And whether she wanted it to or not, her body responded to me.

  I reached my hand under her shirt and felt her warm skin. Reyna pulled away for a moment and I thought she was putting on the brakes. Instead, she whipped off her jacket and then her shirt leaving only her bra. My breath caught. This was happening. It was really happening. I followed suit and removed my shirt leaving only my bare chest pounding so heavily I thought sure she could see my heart through my flesh.

  We both crawled into the back seat and continued a ravenous exploration of each other's bodies. I felt a small tinge of guilt that my first time with her would be in the backseat of my Mustang. She was special. I should have made this special for her. But at that moment I just wanted her so much, nothing would stop me. Nothing except …

  "What the hell is this?" Reyna said suddenly while I was unbuttoning my khakis. I looked up and found her holding a pair of panties between two fingers. Panties that weren't hers.

  "Um ... I ... I guess ... " I stuttered.

  Reyna pushed me away. "I can't believe I was going to do this. I can't do this. What was I thinking?" She mumbled to herself while she scrambled around the car looking for her shirt.

  "Reyna, wait, please. I -"

  "I can't believe I was about to let myself become another one of Scott Kincaid's ‘trophies'," she said, pulling her shirt over her head.

  "It's not like that, I swear. It's different with you. I love you," I pleaded. I felt like my world was crashing in on me. I had to have her.

  "He has a girlfriend. What was I thinking? I can't be the other woman." Reyna spoke as though I wasn't even there anymore. Like she only had to convince herself. She didn't even hear that I had professed my love for her.

  I knew I had no chance of convincing her to stay. How could she believe how much I loved her when she just found another woman's underwear in my car? And she was right. I did have a girlfriend. A girlfriend that meant nothing to me, but still a girlfriend. I closed my eyes and tried to control the urges raging inside of me. Reyna had every right to be upset. I knew I needed to give her time to cool off. So, I didn't protest when she hopped out of the car, slammed the door, and then stormed into her house.

***

  Reyna ran upstairs to her room. After slamming her door shut, she leaned against it and slid down to the floor. She wouldn't cry. She refused to cry. She didn't want to be one of those girls that cried over boys. She was better than that. Stronger than that.

She was so disappointed in herself. She let herself fall for Scott's charms. Just like countless other girls at Charleston Prep and surrounding public and private schools. But was it really her fault. Scott didn't have the reputation of a ladies' man for nothing. He looked like a teenage Matthew
McConaughey
and he was such a good kisser she felt weak just thinking it.

  She would never tell him this but he was perfect in every way, shape, and form. Just perfect, from his head full of golden shaggy hair to his sexy sculpted calf muscles. Sometimes when he smiled his debonair sly grin, Reyna just wanted to run her tongue along his beautifully pristine white teeth. But that was all physical. The best part about him was his personality. His colorful, sometimes plain silly, word combinations could have her laughing for days. She'd never forget the time when he told her Sam's feet were smellier than a skunk on ex-lax. He always made her happy. But he made everyone happy. That would be his downfall one day. He would never be able to please everyone.

  Reyna got off the floor and threw herself onto her bed. Why was she so upset about this? So, she'd fallen for her best friend. Big deal. Well, it was kind of a big deal. This wasn't just any best friend. This was Scott Kincaid, the sports phenomenon that as a junior in high school had an article in Sports Illustrated. Now as a senior, he had nearly every scout in the country looking at him. He was destined to be a star. Where would she fit in to all of that?

  She was reading too much into this. It was just a make-out session in the back of his Mustang. Judging from the dirty underwear in his backseat, he'd probably done the exact same thing with dozens of girls. She wasn't any different. And she couldn't really blame herself for falling for it. He was a pro.

  Besides sports, sex was the other thing on his list of expertise. Girls literally lined up to be his next conquest. She remembered three girl fights that she had witnessed. And there were probably countless others. She could understand where they were coming from. His innate desire to please everyone obviously transferred to the bedroom as well.

  Scott would probably give up sex forever, though, in exchange for sports, baseball, in particular. And if he was good at sex, he was at least ten times better at baseball. He could hit a bug on a wall with a baseball from thirty feet back. Literally. It had happened in seventh grade. A roach was crawling up the side of the wall during English class when suddenly, Scottie took a baseball out of his pocket (he always carried around two or three with him) and nailed it from across the room. Reyna still remembered the sound of the ball slicing through the air and the thud it made slamming into the wall.

  Everyone in the class had sat perfectly still, too stunned to move. Reyna thought sure he would get into trouble. He could've hit someone in the head. But Mr. Myer looked excited instead of upset, even though Scottie had put a huge hole in the wall. That afternoon Mr. Myer put a football in Scottie's hand and passed the ball around with him for hours. The next day, he took him to the high school football practice. Reyna tagged along and watched as seventh grader Scott filled in as quarterback for the high school team.

  Scottie threw pass after pass while the coaches stood on the sidelines and talked about his future.

  "This kid's incredible," Coach Reed said.

  "He's a machine. He can put it anywhere he wants. His junior league baseball coach says he has an 80 mph fastball and he’s barely thirteen," assistant coach Graham said.

  "Screw baseball. This kid's a football player. Go tell him to run it and let's see how fast he is."

  Coach Graham yelled out some numbers and instructions. Then, ten seconds later, Coach Reed tossed his clip board in the air and yelled," Holy Hell! I
ain't
never
seen a white boy run that fast!"

  That was the day Reyna knew she had lost part of her best friend and instead gained a high school Heisman. For the rest of middle school, Scott was still pretty normal. But as soon as he hit high school the change began. He was still the sweet happy-go-lucky kid he used to be when they were alone. But in public he had less and less time for Reyna. Often times she was pushed aside for the blonde of the month or some stupid stunt he wanted to do to please his friends. She got the feeling she was like his dirty little secret and she vowed she would never date him.

  Reyna sat up in her bed and reaffirmed that vow. She was not going to play this game.

 Sunday morning I awoke to find Stu sitting on my bed wearing his favorite black Ramones T-shirt. He would wear that shirt every day if he didn't have to wash it once in a while.

  "What are you doing up so early?" I asked.

  "Early? Scott,
it's
12:30. You slept through breakfast and lunch." Stu looked worried for some reason.

  "Wow, I've never done that before."

  "Actually, you have. Three weeks ago you came home from football practice at six and crashed. You didn't wake up until eleven the next morning."

  "Oh," I said with a shrug, not thinking anything of it. I tossed the sheets off and stood up. A fire erupted in my shoulders and knees forcing me to sit back down. I swallowed the pain and pretended that I just lost my balance so Stu wouldn't know. "I must be hung over or something," I said. Bracing myself for the pain, I stood up again without showing a hint of discomfort and slowly walked to the bathroom. Stu followed.

  "Are you okay, Scottie?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine," I said as I began to relieve myself. Stu stepped away from the door. I knew that would get rid of him.

  "Sam went to the gym to take care of some clients.”

  "She didn't wonder why I was still in
bed?
" I flushed, washed my hands, and then went back into my bedroom.

  "I came in early to do a urine sample for you and I saw you were still asleep. I tried to wake you, but you were out cold. I could tell you needed to rest, so I told her you'd already left to run the bridge."

  "Thanks, buddy."

  "She wants you to meet her at the gym at one. She’s going to spend the rest of the day training for that stupid marathon in Italy.” Stu folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t be surprised if once she’s over there, homeland security gets an anonymous tip that she’s a terrorist. Maybe I can get her ass sent to GITMO."

 I
kinda
felt Stu was only half-kidding about getting our mother incarcerated in Guantanamo Bay detention center. In his mind, Sam really was a terrorist.

I looked at the clock. I didn't want to spend another day training and being treated like one of Sam's clients. It was even more embarrassing getting yelled at in public. I didn’t understand why people continued to hire her as their personal trainer.

 I wanted to find Reyna. We had to talk. I sat back down on the bed and reached for my cell phone off the nightstand. No calls from Reyna, but six from Amber. I had to find a way to let Amber off easy. Reyna would never take my feelings for her seriously if I were still dating Amber. But if I dumped her coldly, Reyna would still reject me thinking I was some sort of coldhearted player.