Tilt (56 page)

That shouldn’t bother me, but it

does. “What? Did I grow another

nose or something?” He grins,

and a barrier falls. When I reach

for him, he comes to me. And now we

are kissing. It’s the kind of kiss

that means it’s been way too long.

A sudden longing floods my body—

a torrent of deep, lust-drenched

need, flowing through my veins.

“Make love to me.” Heart pounding,

I tug him backward, toward the small bed.

He wants me just as much. The proof

is obvious, despite two layers of jeans

between us. Yet, he hesitates.
Is this

the only reason you wanted to see me?

“No, goddamn it! I love you and

I’ve missed you, and maybe it’s part

of the reason because I’m sick of

not feeling. Make me feel something!”

I Yank My T-Shirt

Over my head, put his hands

on my chest, over my thrashing

heart. “This is the most alive

I’ve been in weeks. Please. I don’t

want to be dead inside anymore.”

He slides his hands around me,

drops them to my thighs, lifts

and carries me to the bed. Now

water becomes fire coursing

through me, consuming, filling

the emptiness inside me with flame.

I fall back against the small, hard

mattress, rushing my zipper as Alex

removes his own clothes. I open

my arms and he comes to me, kisses

my mouth. My neck. Down my chest.

Then he looks up at me with those

sea green eyes, and swears,
I love you,

before kissing me in the most intimate

way of all. His mouth urges me to

quench conflagration, but I don’t want

to. “No! Not yet.” Too soon. And not

enough of him. I could go all night.

Besides, “This has to be good for you, too.”

He pushes up over me, stares down

at me.
Do you have a condom?

I didn’t bring one. Didn’t think . . .

“I . . . no . . .” Shit. But, you know,

“I don’t care. You can withdraw.

What are the odds? Please . . .”

His eyes flash terror.
No fucking way!

I would never take a chance like that.

I’m okay. Let me take care of you.

I do. And it’s good. And when

we lay woven together afterward,

it comes to me that I might not want

to be dead inside, but maybe a sliver

of me wouldn’t mind being dead. Period.

Tara

A Sliver

That’s all I could find

left of the Shane who’s

been better than a brother

for more than eight years.

Is there a way

to reinfuse my forever

friend with the humor I so

love him for? Did Shelby

take it with her? Can she

beam it back? I want

to make him

laugh again, and for him

to make me laugh, about

everything or nothing at

all. I want to watch him

walk straight-spined,

like he

always has, despite gay-

phobic commentary; to hear

his acerbic comebacks. I want

him to be the totally flawed,

totally perfect Shane he

used to be.

Harley

Totally Changed

That’s what I am.

A girl transformed

by a boy she’s not

even in love with.

I definitely don’t feel

about Lucas the way

I did about Chad, like

every minute away

from him is an hour

too long. He’s not even

all that nice to me. He

never tells me I’m cute

or smart or good at

anything. Never asks

about school or Mom or

Bri or what I like to do

for fun. He mostly just

wants “favors.” So why

am I willing to do almost

anything he tells me to?

“Almost,” Meaning

I still won’t go all the way.

He probably thinks this has been

a world-record period—ten days

and counting. I’ve done a lot

of other stuff, though. Stuff

I never thought I would, not even

with a guy I
did
love. I guess I do

it because he wants to do it with me.

Me. Not some other girl. Me.

Chloe says I should enjoy it.

Not the attention. “It.” The kissing

and licking and touching and rubbing.

I do like it. It feels good. I totally

get the lust part. But wouldn’t lust

feel even better with a little love

involved? Bri thinks I’m stupid.

No way! With him? Why, Harley?

That’s what she said when I told her

about the first time I did it with my mouth.

You could get a disease like that!

I actually never thought about

that, but I don’t think Lucas

has any diseases. Not that I could

ask him. That would make him mad.

But I for sure can’t get a disease,

or pregnant, doing what he wants

me to do right now. Mom’s still

at work. I’m alone in my room.

Lucas texts instructions.
GET NAKED

AND LIE DOWN ON YOUR BED.
He gives

me time to comply, and I have to

admit I get a little thrill, thinking

about what might come next. Soft

October sunlight filters in through

the window, spills across my skin,

warming it just enough to let me

stay uncovered. I keep my panties

on. As far as he knows, I’m still

on my period.
PLAY WITH YOUR

NIPPLE. GET IT HARD. I WANT A PIC.

I Try to Make It Sexy

Like the girl in that movie. I’m not

sure I can accomplish that with a cell

phone camera, but I give it my best

shot, then hit send before I chicken

out. I wait for another text. It doesn’t

take long.
BEAUTIFUL! THIS IS AWESOME.

AND NOW I WANT ANOTHER ONE. TOUCH

YOURSELF. YOU KNOW WHERE. LET ME SEE.

He called me beautiful. That’s a first.

Am I beautiful? I look at the photo

I sent him. Is that really me? I look . . .

good. Leaning back against my pillow,

my stomach goes all the way flat, but

my boobs don’t. For sure they grew

over the summer. I cup them gently, and

they overflow the bowls of my hands.

Wow. How did that happen? Suddenly,

my cell buzzes.
WELL? I’M WAITING.

Part of me wants to keep him waiting.

The other part doesn’t want him mad.

I let one hand slide to the crotch

of my panties, pull the lacy material

just a little to one side. I keep my fingers

covering the most personal part, take