Spill Over (16 page)

Her
face
softens. “You okay?” she whispers.

“Missed a lot of time with my dad. That’s all.”
And for the first time it feels like a loss of something, not a relief.

“Sorry.” Her hand runs along my back and down my arm before letting it go. Her eyes, again, in my gut. If we were alone
,
I’d kiss her right now.
We both lean slightly in.
My eyes float to her soft lips, smooth chin. My hand itches to touch her skin
, her cheek, her neck
, her…

“Cards tonight?” Dad’s voice makes both of us jump this time.

Amber laughs
out the nerves I feel
.

“Sounds great.”

Only kind of great. How on earth am I going to ever be alone with this girl? And the worse thought, what if she’s
still
not sure?
Or what if she’s decided she likes Kent after all?
The annoying guy who sends her
stupid,
funny emails.

- - -

Amber and I are on a small
i
sland around a large campfire built for the
people on
boats anchored here.
We
left
our parents behind
because they seemed in need of some private time.
She joins in the bo
ating conversation
with the
group;
talking in a language I’m only beginning to understand. I’m enjoying
just watching and listening tonight
.
Very few people live on their boats. Most come out for a week or two here and there throughout the year. That seems a lot more normal to me.

We’ve been out here for hours.
The sky is now black
,
and
the last few people return to their boats, leaving just
Amber
and me
by the fire
. Without meaning to, I’m watching her. The
orange light of the
fire
sends shadows and light across her skin, her face, her hair. Her knees are pulled up
,
and her arms clutch her legs. She’s cold.

I pull in a deep breath. This should be easy, right? Just scoot over and offer her some added warmth. But it doesn’t feel easy. The small scoot between us might as well be a brick wall. Why is she so different? This situation so different? I think briefly about Gem at the party.
What can I do for you,
Antony?
I think about Hélè
na, my first in a lot of experiences. A LOT
of experiences
. She looked over at me.
You’re thinking about being with me, aren’t you? Do you want to know what it’s like?

I followed her to my room at Arnaud’s place. We spent all night, her showing me how to touch her, her touching
me. She loved it, and as kind of freaked out
as I was, she made it all no big deal. She kep
t
telling
me it
was no big deal
. S
he’d done it all before
. S
he’s
three
years older than me.

But now, here I am, looking at Amber w
ho’s only a couple feet away, and
feels like a mile.

“You cold?” I ask.
But my voice sounds all weird and squeaky, betraying how nervous I am.

Her eyes meet mine. “Just the side of me that’s not against the fire.”

Now what? I have to move.
Now. Move
.
“Can I scoot in?”

“Sure.” But her eyes don’t meet mine.

I slide behind her
, put a leg on each side and rest
my arms around her
waist
.
It takes her a minute, but s
he leans back against me. And the relief makes me weak. This is o
kay. S
he’s okay with this. With me.
There’s this bubble of comfort around her that I don’t totally understand.
It’s that
her optimistic thinking rubs off or soaks in or something, because I relax into her warmth.
I never thought just sitting with a girl woul
d ever make me feel this good
.

She takes my
hands in hers and pull
s my arms more tightly around her
, adding
warmth and
bringing us even closer together
.

I open my mou
th to say something a few times
but can’t manage it.
It’s like as soon as I start to talk, my throat lumps up.
Feeling something so
real for Amber
brings Mom to the surface.
T
he pain
’s
still too raw and
spills over
into everything else I feel.
Sucks cause I don’t want what I feel for Amber to mix with that, or to be
so
heavy.
Girls are supposed to feel good, light.

Hoping she follows, I lean back on the log behind me. She does, scooting to her side and resting her cheek on my chest. I wish it wasn’t so cold, and we
weren’t wearing so many layers because
I want to feel her skin.  But her weight is good, too.

The waves on the rocks makes this
rhythmic, soothing sound. The dark comes in around us even closer as the fire continues to die, but I still can’t bring myself to want to move.

“I think it’s time to head back.” She sits up.

“Wait, I…” My hand reaches out and touches her shoulder.

She spins to face me. And this is it. This is when I get to feel her lips aga
inst mine. I lean forward, brush
ing her cheek.

“Stop.” Her hand touches my chest. “I need you to think about whether this is actually what you want, or not.”
Our faces are close, less than a foot apart. Even in
the dark her eyes sparkle
.

“What are you kidding me?” I lean back. Doesn’t she know how she’s been making me crazy?

“No.” She chuckles, but it’s forced. I know her well enough to know that. “Just. If you still want this in a few days,
tell me
.”

“I thought I’d been
making it pretty obvious
for the past few days,” I say, leaning forward again.

The dying fire makes a
few last pops and gasps for air. T
he darkness is closing in, and the near silence is overwhelming.

“You scare
me
.
” She stares down at her fingers tracing patterns in the dirt.
“
I’m afraid to trust you.”

“But you know me better than anyone.”
I’ve never let myself get this close to a girl before, ever, and I’ve done a lot of stuff with girls. It doesn’t make any sense.

“And I think that makes you really uncomfortable.”

I open my mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. She’s right.
“Fair enough. But for the record? I’m going a little crazy.”

Even in the dim light I can see her cheeks turn pink.
“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You can’t help it.” My fing
ers slide down her cheek
again,
and
this time
she doesn’t pull away.

I guess everything with her will be small steps, but she’ll be worth it in the end.
I think.
At least we’re heading in the right direction.

Thirteen

I step out onto the deck to feel the warmth from the sun
. T
he
light stabs at my eyes, and I stumble until I find a seat next to the tabl
e.
I grab a cereal box
, not paying attention to what I’m pouring in my bowl.

“Morning,” Amber calls.

I jerk my head up to see
Lynn and Amber s
tan
ding
on the front of the bow. M
y jaw drops. Drops. Amber’s in a
teeny turquoise
bikini. On a boat, in the winter, in a bikini.
I mean, it’s sunny, and not freezing or anything, but it’s not exactly warm either.

“Y
ou coming in?” Lynn asks.

“No way.” I shake my head. Besides,
I’d rather watch your daughter.

“Sun coast. T
he water’s warm.” Amber smiles.

Keep your eyes on her face, on her face, on her face
. But as soon as she turns away from me
,
I stare at her toned body. She’s strong. Her arms are
toned
from handling the sails and her body’s
muscled
fr
om running. Not as skinny as
New York girls try to be. She’s healthy
, smooth
. I shift in my seat, keeping my lap under the table.
No point in embarrassing myself in pajama shorts.

Dad kicks my foot. I jerk my
eyes to catch his. An eyebrow r
ises.

I shrug. Who in their right mind
wouldn’t
look at that?

I turn just in time to watch her take a leaping dive off the front of the boat into the water. Both Amber and her mom come up sputtering and laughing.

Dad and I ste
p up to the side to watch
. The water’s clear.
I can see the rocks
way down
at the bottom, small fleck
s of silver fish underneath
, and A
mber’s body
,
almost
every inch of it.

“She’s a pretty girl,” Dad whispers.

“So’s her mom.” My eyes catch his.

“That she is.” He breathes out.

I want to press it further, ask him about her, but I don’t.
Here we are, two guys, staring at our girls in the water. Knowing he’s probably feeling the same thing as me in this moment helps.
Gives us something in common. S
omething he can relate to in a way that a mom never could.

“Still cold, ain’t it
, ba
be?” Dad’s laughing.

“Join us and find out!” Lynn hollers back.

“
It’s freezing, b
ut worth it!” Amber’s smile fills her face
as she rolls onto her back, exposing her stomach
.

And I die a little with wanting to touch her.

Her eyes close as she lays her head back and floats.

“I really think we should join them,” Dad whispers.

And I never thought I’d ever jump
off Dad’s boat into the ocean
, but it’s sudden
ly sounding like a perfect idea
.

I’m in pajama shorts. G
ood enough. I strip off my shirt and stand as tall as I can. I mean, seriously, it may make me sound like a jerk, but I look pretty good with my shirt off.
Until coming here, I’ve always worked out pretty hard.
I stand on the end of the boat and try not to think about how freezing the water’s going to be when I hit. I glance to my right and Amber’s staring, just like I wanted her to. I take a
strong
dive off the front, headfirst
into the water.

The cold slices through me like daggers
,
and I come up sputtering just like they did.

Amber laughs. The freeness of it fills me up. Mom would
love
this, and just like that
,
the lead’s back in my chest.
Because Mom’s not here to share this.

“You’re a bit of a show-off, diving like that.”
Laughter laces all through her words.

But I can’t answer.
I’m choking on missing Mom again. I let my he
ad slide under the water, but
don’t sink the way I want. Not in salt water.

Was this what dying was like? Cold? Piercing? Silent?
Or was it flames? Burning? Suffocation?

When my head breaks the surfac
e
Amber’s
close
. Dad and Lynn are in some water fight on the other side of the boat.

I’m suddenly fighting not to cry. Mom should be here, jumping off this sailboat, breathing, alive.
This is not a good time for me to feel this way.
Not that there’s ever
a good time.