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blondemoment22

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He chewed on his Dilly Bar, watching a chubby woman yell at her squealing kids in the backseat of her minivan. I swirled my tongue around the tip of my ice cream cone to get his attention.

            He grinned at me. “I think we need to figure this out.”

            I put the whole cone in my mouth and pulled it out, swallowing the delicious creamy goodness.

            “Stop doing that!” he laughed.

            I blinked naively. “Doing what? I’m eating ice cream. I’m sorry if it’s turning you on.”

            He stuck his tongue in a crack in the cherry shell, flicking it around.

            “Okay, that’s sick.”

            “Yeah,” he agreed.

            “Good comeback though, I’m proud. So, what do we need to figure out?”

            “Us.”

            I held back a sigh. “What about us?”

            “We have a thing, right? I like you a lot, PJ,” he said.

            “I know,” I mumbled.

            “No, I don’t think you do.”

            Now I was confused. “Then inform me, O Tall One,” I said, bowing my head.

            “I've liked you since I met you, but you're more like a friend, so it's always had this tension for me, like the relationship is pressuring itself to be more, do you get that?”

            I groaned. “Are you gonna get all serious and bear your soul to me?”

            “Just for a minute, I promise,” he said, smirking. I motioned for him to continue. “You never made any moves to get me to be more, even though I kissed you on more than one occasion, before this weekend. And I've always wondered if you didn't like it, but were too embarrassed to say anything, or if you did like it, but didn't say anything for the same reason.” He paused, biting off half his Dilly Bar and chewing thoughtfully. “Which was it?”

            The question caught me off-guard, and I struggled to answer him. “The second one, but it wasn't out of embarrassment. I think I was just scared.”

            “Of what?” he questioned.

            I sighed and shifted my hand under my chin. “That we would get together for a while, then things would get bad and we'd break up and that'd be the end. We’d be awkward around each other and not hang out anymore… All that.”

            He huffed.

            “What?”

            “That's ridiculous, PJ.”

            “No, it’s not,” I argued.

            “That’s why everyone avoids it; they don’t want to get hurt. But how can you predict that? We’re getting pretty damn old, we might want to settle down together, you know?”

            My face burned and I bit the top off my ice cream. “Honestly, I hate you.”

            He laughed. “Because I’m always right?”

            “Yes. You make too much sense.”

            “Is that a bad thing?” he sneered, leaning over the table toward me.

            “It depends. For one, it’s really damaging to my self-esteem, but then again, I wouldn’t be willing to do this if not for your sensibility.” Or manipulation. I didn’t want to take time to think that over.

            He cupped his hand around the back of my head and kissed me. “Then it’s a done deal, girlfriend.”

            I nibbled on the edge of the cone. “I guess so, but do not call me that again.”

            “Agreed.” He smiled contently.

<<<>>> 

Somehow I ended up pinned against the front door of my house; legs wrapped around his waist, fingers in his hair, mouth trying to merge with his in the chaos of the chemical reaction occurring in my bloodstream. He stopped to catch his breath, eyes wild. The lock twisted and clicked on the other side of the door.

            “Shit,” he whispered, prying my body off of him.

            Alexis came through, letting out an epic sigh. I shoved Gavin into the kitchen.

            “PJ?” she called.

            “Yes?” I answered right into her ear.

            She jumped, startled, and then glared at me. “Why are you standing there?” Her pale blue eyes darted around suspiciously.

            “Is this a no-standing zone?” I retorted.

            “Whatever. You’re so weird.” She slipped off her shoes. “There’s a car in the driveway,” she said.

            “Yeah, Gavin’s over,” I told her.

            “What for?”

            “Uh… project,” I lied.

            “Right,” she growled and headed upstairs. I held my breath until her door slammed, harder than I expected, and sock-surfed into the kitchen.

            “That was pathetic,” he teased, flipping through our mail. “Ooh, a VISA bill.” He licked his lips.

            “Don’t touch that,” I scolded. He dangled the envelope over his head. I didn’t bother reaching for it; I just went straight for a shadow kick in the crotch. He winced, arms flying down to protect his goods and I snatched it back from him. “Victory!” I yelled.

            He tickled me. “No fair,” he said while I shrieked for him to stop. “You know my weakness. And my strength!” He did a quick Michael Jackson hip thrust. “Yeah, bitch!”

            Alexis cranked up the radio upstairs to noise-complaint level. Gavin released me from the attack and we retreated to the couch to flip through all the afterschool sitcom reruns. He and I shared the habit of talking out loud during shows, so Reba was given its own immature commentary, which consisted mainly of “that’s what she said.”

            It was surprising to me how easily Gavin and I had switched from just-friends into boyfriend-girlfriend. Not much felt different about it, except for the way his hand lingered when he touched me.

            The next couple weeks trudged along like overweight tourists in Disney World; impatient, crabby, and sweating in all their rolls. I had a near-paralyzing amount of homework, and because of that one hour of truancy my phone and computer privileges were taken away along with the detentions I had to serve. Any few minutes I got alone with Gavin outside near the tennis courts were sacred. We’d smoke and make out with Tic-Tacs on our tongues to try to hide the smell. We didn’t care that lung cancer had entered our futures; we were invincible.