One Trip Around the Sun (4 page)

I start to interrupt again, but she holds up her hand and shakes her head at me. “Just let me finish.” She takes a deep breath and looks me in the eyes. “A physical relationship with a man you love is a wonderful thing. Nothing is more special. It’s a lot of work, but when you nurture that relationship, you get what you give tenfold. When you find that special guy—I expect a good man, but I know you’ll settle for no less—please don’t put up a wall with him, like you do with everyone else in your life. Let him in. I guess what I’m trying to say is that when the time comes, don’t feel like you’re doing something wrong.” She wipes a tear from her eye.

My chest has tightened, and tears are streaming down my face. I don’t know what to say. We’ve never had such an intense conversation before.

“I don’t think I said that the way I had it planned, but I hope that you got the idea. And in no way am I giving you permission to be irresponsible—or to even have sex at all. As much as I am okay with you waiting until you are married to do it, I’m not stupid. I know that you are getting to that age, and I don’t want to miss the opportunity to tell you that sex is not dirty or a bad thing when it’s with that one special person. When it is with someone you love, Reese, it’s…everything.”

“I understand, Mom. I do. When I find him or when he finds me, I won’t push him away.”

I’m surprised at the relief I feel from getting things out in the open—not that I am going to go out and do anything.

As the youngest child, I’ve been so sheltered. When they were my age, Kara and Kyle were in no way as innocent as me. By seventeen, they were both dating and going to parties every weekend. That’s part of the problem. They know everyone. Kyle always told me that if his friends saw me at a party or anywhere doing anything that I shouldn’t be, he would know in a minute. I guess I didn’t want to test it. When I do go to parties, I’m sure to never give anyone a reason to talk about me.

This might not be my mom’s approval for me to have sex, but I feel like it is her approval for me to grow up, to relax a little.

“All right, no more serious talk. I forgot to tell you earlier, but I’m going out to dinner with some of the girls from work tonight, so go out with your friends and have fun—but not too much fun.”

She smiles, and I can see the same reprieve in her expression as I’m feeling, too.

I’d love to say that I spent the evening primping. What I did though was take a nap until twenty minutes before Chelsea was supposed to pick me up.

At nine o clock, Connor honks his horn, and I run out to his car.

“Glad to see that you’re actually joining us, Reese.” He checks me out from head to toe.

There’s not much to look at. I’m wearing jeans and a hoodie. I did try to tame my hair a little. I’m pretty sure that Connor would have that reaction to anything with a heartbeat.

I slide in behind Chelsea’s seat after she’s leaned forward for me.

She tries to deflect Connor’s attention. “Just drive, Connor.”

“Okay, girl!” Chelsea turns in her seat. “I’ve got Peppermint Schnapps, Peach Schnapps, and marshmallow vodka. Pick your poison!” She pulls out several mini bottles from her purse.

I notice Connor looking at me in the rearview mirror. He rolls his eyes and laughs. He thinks he knows me so well.

I narrow my eyes and glare at him. “Peppermint Schnapps.”

“Hell yeah! Good choice. You’ll taste delicious for whoever you kiss.”

“I’m not kissing anyone.” I take the bottle and stuff it down deep into my purse.

“You’re seriously not wearing that, are you? Take that hoodie off, Reese.”

“It’s going to be cold later,” I argue. Really, it’s my security blanket, so to speak. I feel safe when I wear it.

“It’s not cold now, so take it off. You can put it on later.”

She’s not going to let up until I take off the damn hoodie. Rather than give her ammunition to make a scene when we get there, I give in.

Once we reach The Pit, we make our way down the trail to the open area where everyone is. We haven’t been there for ten seconds, and Chelsea is already standing on the tailgate of someone’s truck, doing what she does best—making a scene.

“Everyone, listen.” She’s holding her bottle up as she waits for every single person to pay attention to her. “Hey!” When she has everyone’s attention, she continues, “Today is my best bitch’s birthday! Let’s all wish Reese a happy birthday!” She starts a chant before fifty or more people join in, “Here’s to you, and here’s to me. The best of friends we’ll always be. But if by chance, you disagree, then fuck you all, and here’s to me! Happy birthday, Reese!”

They hold up their drinks as I stand there, red-faced, wishing that a hole would open beneath me and swallow me up.

“Get your bottle, Reese!” Connor says, nudging me.

I dig frantically through my purse until my fingers find the little bottle. I pull it out and twist the cap off.

“Happy birthday, Reese!” they all shout again before taking a drink of whatever they have in their hands.

I empty the bottle into my mouth and swallow hard. It burns like a mother. Connor laughs and pats my back as I nearly cough up a lung. Thankfully, while I’m attempting to compose myself, everyone is back to doing whatever they were doing before all the attention was on me.

The next hour or so, I wander around and talk to a few friends from school. I’m surprised to see so many kids who I thought wouldn’t be caught dead here. Everyone—from cheerleaders and football players to the marching band kids as well as the stoners—is socializing with one another.

Eventually, I find my way back to Chelsea and Connor. I sit on a log next to them while they make out. I zone out, watching a few guys playing their guitars on the other side of the fire. The more they drink, the more they screw up the song, and we all laugh.

I can honestly say that I’m having a pretty good time. Everyone is super nice, and even though a few of them are friends with Kyle, they don’t seem to act any differently to me here than they do when I see them at my house or at school. A few of them are even a little flirty. Kyle would die if he knew that his friends were flirting with me.

Just as I’m about to tell Chelsea that I’m ready to leave, my attention is directed to someone sitting next to me. I look over and see that it’s my brother’s friend, Brady. And, he’s looking at me!

Brady!

“Reese Manning, right?” He sets his beer bottle on the ground and reaches down by his feet to pull a beer out of the half-empty six-pack. He twists the cap off and offers it to me.

“Yeah. Brady Fisher, right?”
Ha!
I act as if I had to think about his name as I accept the beer.

“Don’t tell your brother, okay?” He winks and shoots me that awesome smile. He taps the neck of his bottle to mine. “Happy birthday, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl…pretty girl…

He just called me pretty!

He takes a big gulp while I sip on the bottle in hopes that I don’t do something stupid like I did earlier.

“You already told me that last night.” I look down at my beer, trying like hell to fight the smile that he so easily brings to my face.

“I guess I did. How old are you, Reese?” His voice is smooth as silk and draws my eyes right back to his.

The way he looks into my eyes when he talks to me makes it hard for me to speak.

I pause for a minute. Either the alcohol is starting to affect my thinking, or I am turning into Chelsea. I want to say,
Kiss me
. Instead, I say, “Seventeen.”

I take another drink of my beer, thinking that I wouldn’t mind if he wanted to make good use of that shot of Peppermint Schnapps I had earlier. I can still taste it, so I’m sure he would, too.

He drops his head and gently shakes it.

What is that supposed to mean?

When he glances back up, he meets my gaze and chuckles. “You could get me into a lot of trouble, girl.”

I try to pull my eyes away from his, but for some reason, I can’t break the connection. I’m really confused. How could I get him into trouble? The words finally leave my lips. “How is that?”

He finally breaks the stare and looks at the guys playing their guitars. He takes another drink of his beer. It’s obvious that he is not going to answer me.

I lean forward and try to get in his line of sight as I repeat the question, “How could I get you into trouble, Brady? Did my brother say something to you?”

He snaps his head my way. “No, he didn’t. You’re just…you’re very…mature on the outside, and I’m thinking not so much on the inside. That’s a dangerous combination, Reese.”

“Excuse me? What the hell does that mean? You think that I am immature? You just met me yesterday. Technically, it was today.” I thought that we had pretty good chemistry for having just met.

“No, no. I said that wrong. I meant that you’re young, and I’m guessing that you’re also inexperienced, not immature. I’m sorry.” He turns sideways, facing me. “I shouldn’t have said that anyway.”

Now that I can see his entire face, I notice a dark spot, a bruise maybe, under his right eye.

“How old are you?” I ask.

“Eighteen.”

“I’m just a year younger than you, Brady.”

He nods his head. “You were sixteen yesterday. I’m eighteen, and I get the distinct impression that you’re a pretty good girl.”

Hmmm…I can’t decide if I’m embarrassed or offended by his comment.

“So what if I am? Not everyone aspires to be a slut, you know?”

I hold my chin high, not backing down from my comment as our eyes meet. He doesn’t hold my gaze for long though, soon his eyes move to travel down my body. I feel electricity shoot to my center. And that’s when I lose my good sense.

I don’t care if you’re a man-whore. Kiss me. Please kiss me
.

As if he can read my mind, he leans toward me, not taking his eyes from mine. My breathing quickens as he gets closer. It’s not like I haven’t kissed a guy before, but I have a feeling that Brady would put those kisses to shame. He dips his head down and presses his lips to my shoulder, never looking away from my eyes. He kisses me there, open-mouthed, with a little flick of his tongue, and then he sits up and smiles at me before looking away.

Oh, wow. Just fucking…oh my God.

I feel a ping of pleasure and pain deep in my stomach.

How could that feel so…so…insanely crazy good?

I want him to kiss my lips. It’s my birthday, so I should get what I want. I contemplate saying something, but I don’t want to beg, not out loud anyway. As good as that was, I feel cheated, and I want more.

He abruptly stands and looks down at me. “I gotta go.” And as quickly as the words are out of his mouth, he’s gone.

I sit in a trance, staring at the fire, as the flames dance over the logs. For the first time ever, I want more, so much more.

I guess a person has to drink more than one beer and one little bottle of alcohol to get a hangover. I’m not sure what I was expecting when I woke up this morning, but I figured that I would feel something—a headache at least.

As I get dressed, I realize that I might actually feel better than I have in a long while.

I’m starving, so I make my way to the kitchen for something to eat.