Slammed (14 page)

My heart jumps to my throat. I walk over to them and place my hands firmly on the bar in front of them.

"Kel, don't ever repeat what you just said do you hear me?"

His eyes get big and he and Caulder both lean back in their chairs as I lean forward across the bar.

"I'm serious. You did not see what you thought you saw. Will can get in a lot of trouble if you repeat what you said. I mean it."

They both nod as I leave the room. I pull my notebook out of my bag and throw it on the bed, plopping down next to it to start on my homework, but I can’t. The thought of anything getting out about Will and I distracts me. As much as I hate the fact that we can't be together, I hate the thought of him getting fired even more. He needs this job. Will was only one year older than me when his parents died, and he essentially became a parent himself. The more thought I give it, the guiltier I feel for being so hard on Will and the decision he's made. The pain I'm feeling as a result of us not being together pales in comparison to what Will must be going through. I feel less and less like Will's peer every day and more like his student.

I decide to work on the poem I’ve yet to start, but after half an hour I’m still staring at a blank page when my mother walks in.

"Where's your jeep?"

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. It won't crank, alternator or something. It's parked at school."

"How can you forget to mention that?" she says, obviously frustrated.

"I'm sorry. You were sleeping when I got home. I know you’ve been sick this week so I didn’t want to wake you up."

She sighs as she sits on my bed. "I don’t know when I'll be able to get it fixed. I work the next few days. Do you mind just keeping it at the school for a couple days until I can work it out?"

"I'll ask tomorrow. I doubt they would even notice it’s there."

"Okay. Well, I've got to get to work.” She stands up to leave.

“
Wait. Your shift doesn’t start for a few more hours."

"I need to run errands." She shuts the door, leaving me to question the validity of her response.

***

I'm drying my hair after my shower when I think I hear the doorbell. I turn the dryer off and listen for a moment and it eventually rings again.

"Kel, get the door!" I yell as I pull on my sweats. I pile my still-wet hair into a band and double it up on top of my head as I throw on a tank top. The doorbell rings again.

"Kel!" I yell as I make my way to the front door. I check the peep hole and see Will standing outside, his arms crossed as he trembles. My heart skips a beat at the sight of him and I turn to check my reflection in the entryway mirror. Sure enough, I look like I just got out of the shower. At least I'm not wearing Kel's house shoes. Ugh. Why do I even care?

I open the door and motion for him to come inside. He steps in far enough for me to shut the door behind him but doesn't come any further inside.

“
I just need Caulder. Bath time.”

His arms are still crossed and his speech is curt. I take this as a sign that I'm not going to get any confessions out of him right now, so I tell him to give me a sec as I go fetch Caulder.

I check Kel's room, my mother's room and eventually my room when I run out of rooms to check.

"They aren't here, Will." I say as I walk back into the living room.

"Well, they have to be. They aren't at my house." He makes his way down the hallway and checks the rooms as he calls for them. I open the patio door, flick on the outdoor switch and make a quick scan of the small backyard.

"They aren't out back," I say as we meet back in the living room.

"I'll check my house again," he says.

Will makes his way across the street as I follow behind him. It's dark outside and the temperature has dropped since earlier in the day. I become increasingly concerned as we make our way to Will's house. I know Kel and Caulder wouldn't be outside this time of night. If they aren’t in one of the houses, I don't know where they could be.

Will makes a quick run of his house. I don't feel comfortable walking through it since I’ve never really been further than the kitchen, so I stand in the doorway and wait.

"They aren't here," he says, unable to hide the uncertainty in his voice. My hands go to my mouth as I gasp, fully realizing the seriousness of the situation. Will can see the fear in my eyes and he puts his arms around me.

"We'll find them. They’re just off playing somewhere." His reassurance is brief as he lets go and heads back out the front door. "Check the backyard; I'll meet you out front," he says.

We are both calling the boys’ names when the panic rises up in my chest. It reminds me of the time I was babysitting Kel when he was four, and I thought I had lost him. I searched the entire house for twenty minutes before finally breaking down and calling my mother. She immediately called the police who arrived within minutes. They were still searching when she finally made it home-the panic in her eyes when she walked through the door cut through me and we both started to cry. After searching for over fifteen minutes, an officer found Kel passed out on the folded towels in the bathroom cabinet. Apparently he had been hiding from me when he fell asleep.

I’m hoping to find the same sense of relief when I look through Will’s backyard, but they aren’t here. I make my way around the side of his house and see Will standing in the driveway, staring inside his car. When he sees me running toward him, his finger goes up to his mouth, instructing me to be quiet. I peer into the backseat where Kel and Caulder are both crouched in the floorboard, their fingers and hands clamped together in the shape of guns; they're both passed out.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

“
They would make horrible guards,” he whispers.

“
Yeah, they sure would.”

We both stand there, staring at our little brothers. Will's arm goes around me and he gives my shoulders a quick squeeze. His hug doesn't linger at all though, so I know it's nothing more than a gesture expressing relief that our brothers are safe.

"Hey, before you wake them up, I've got something of yours inside." He walks toward his house so I follow him inside and into the kitchen.

My heart is still pounding against my chest, although I can't distinguish if it's the aftermath of the search for our brothers, or if it's just being in Will's presence.

He pulls something out of his satchel and hands it to me. "Your keys" he says as he drops them into my hand.

"Oh, thanks," I say, somewhat disappointed. I don’t know what I expected him to have but I was fantasizing that maybe it was his resignation letter.

"It's running fine now. You should be able to drive it home tomorrow." He makes his way to his couch and sits.

"What? You fixed it?" I say.

"Well,
I
didn't fix it. I know a guy who was able to put an alternator on it this afternoon."

His comparison in the parking lot comes back to mind. Somehow I doubt he would have an alternator put on any other student's vehicle.

"Will, you didn't have to do that," I say as I sit beside him on the couch. "Thanks though. I'll pay you back."

"Don't worry about it. You guys have helped me a lot with Caulder lately, it's the least I can do."

And yet again, I'm at a loss for what to say next. It feels like that first day I was standing in his kitchen, contemplating my next move after he helped me with my bandage. I know I should get up and leave, but I like being here next to him. Even if I am finding myself in his debt again. I finally find the confidence to speak again.

"So, can we finish our conversation from earlier?"

He adjusts himself in the couch and props his feet on the coffee table in front of us. "That depends," he says. "Did you come up with a solution?"

"Well, no," I reply, just as a possible solution comes to mind. I lean my head against the back of the couch and meekly suggest my idea.

"Suppose these feelings we have just get more… complex." I pause for a moment. I'm not sure how he's going to take this new suggestion of mine, so I tread lightly.

"I wouldn't be opposed to the idea of getting a G.E.D."

"That's ridiculous," he says, eyeing me sharply. "Don't even think like that. There's no way you’re quitting school, Lake."

I'm
Lake
again.

"It was just an idea," I say.

"Well, it was a dumb one.”

We both think silently, neither of us coming up with any other solutions. My head is still resting against the back of the couch as I watch him. His arms are crossed behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. His jaw is clenched tight and he's absentmindedly popping his knuckles.

He's no longer wearing the clothes he wears as a teacher. Instead, he has a plain white fitted t-shirt on and grey jogging pants that are almost identical to the ones I'm wearing. For the first time tonight, I notice his hair is wet. I haven't been this close to him in weeks; I was beginning to forget what he smells like. I inhale as I take in the scent of his aftershave. It smells like the air in Texas right before it starts to rain. If thunder had a smell, I imagine Will would smell just like it.

There's a small dab of shaving cream right below his left ear. My hand instinctively moves up to his neck as I wipe it away. He flinches and turns toward me and I defensively hold up my finger as if to prove my reason for touching him. He pulls my hand toward him as he rubs my finger across his shirt, wiping off the excess shaving cream.

Our hands come to rest on his chest as we continue to look at each other in silence. My palm is flat against his heart and I can feel it rapidly beating against my hand. I know this exchange between us is wrong, but it feels incredibly right.

He allows my hand to remain on his chest as it moves up and down to the rhythm of his breath. The look in his eyes is the exact look he had when he was watching me in class today. Although this time, my physical response is more intense and I struggle to control the powerful urge to lean in and kiss him. I’ve wanted to talk to him like this for over a month now. I still had so much to say before he started pretending I didn’t exist. I’m afraid as soon as I walk out of his house tonight, the isolation will return. I decide to tell him what I’ve wanted to say to him for weeks.

"Will?" I whisper. "I'll wait for you-until I graduate."

He exhales and closes his eyes as he strokes his thumb across the back of my hand. "That's a long wait, Lake. A lot can happen in a year." His pulse increases against my palm.

I don’t know what comes over me, but I lean closer and turn his face toward mine. I just need him to look at me.

He doesn't meet my gaze. Instead, his eyes focus on his hand as he slowly moves it up my arm. All the same sensations that flowed through me the first night we kissed come flooding back. I've missed his touch so much.

I watch him as he moves his hand to my shoulder. He slides his fingers underneath the strap of my shirt as he traces along the edges. His movements are slow and methodical as he pulls his legs off of the table in front of him and turns his body toward me. His expression seems full of conflict as he slowly leans in and presses his lips against my shoulder. I wrap my arms around him as I inhale. His breath becomes heavier as his lips move across my shoulder and onto my neck. The room starts to spin, so I close my eyes. His lips make their way to my jaw and closer to my mouth. When I feel him pull away I open my eyes again and he's watching me. There's a slight moment of hesitation in his eyes just before his lips close over mine.

In the past, his kisses have been very delicate and smooth. There is a different hunger behind him now as he slides his hands under my shirt and grasps at my waist. I return his kisses with the same feverish passion. I run my hands through his hair and pull him to me as I lay back on the couch. As soon as he begins to ease his body on top of mine, his lips break away and he sits back up.

"We've got to stop," he says. "We can't do this." He squeezes his eyes shut and rests his head against the couch.

I sit back up and ignore his protest as I slide my hands up his neck and through his hair. I press my lips to his and pull myself onto his lap. His hands wrap around my waist and he pulls me into him as he returns my kiss with even more intensity than before. He’s right; they do get better every time.