Authors: Paige Harbison
He stood up, in between her legs. She leaned back, looking at him with all the sexy she could conjure.
Johnny effortlessly pulled her toward the edge of the table. She planted her feet on the armrests of the chair he’d vacated. He lifted the silky fabric and ran his hands along her skin, wrapping his touch around her hips and up her back. He sharpened his grip as he moved down to her thigh.
Becca’s smile faded as
want
filled her chest and made it clench. It ran through her legs and made them close to shaking. It was in her head, making her dizzy and light-headed. She could hear her own breath in the still, dark room. She could hear his, too, and she saw that he was no longer looking clever.
His hands were gentle, and her muscles tensed as he ran his fingers farther up her leg. He came closer and kissed her neck, as Max had done earlier. It felt so different when Johnny did it. All Becca wanted now was for him to come even closer. And he did. He moved in and put his lips to her ear. His breath blew her hair just enough to send a tingle down her spine.
“What do you want, new girl?” His whisper was slow and deep.
“You,” she said desperately. She wasn’t in control. She was uninhibited and desperate for him.
With one hand still on her upper thigh, taunting her, he moved his other to her hair. He pulled it slightly, exposing more of her neck. She surrendered, leaning back with her eyes shut. Her breath came faster now. His hand moved just enough higher, and his lips moved down to her chest. He gently dropped her straps.
Less than two weeks since she’d lost her virginity, and her number had already doubled.
The following Monday, as Becca dawdled her way to English class, Johnny pulled on her arm and dragged her out the side door.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“What are
you
doing?” Johnny looked livid. “You told me you weren’t with Max!”
“I’m not!”
“Yes, you—” He paused, looking like he was trying to remember her exact wording. “But you’re hooking up with him.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He
told
me, Becca. In the locker room after practice.”
A small thrill of satisfaction rolled through her. Finally, Max was bragging about her. “What did he say?”
“I asked him if you guys were a thing, and he shrugged and said, and I quote, ‘we hooked up a few times.’”
That was not quite as flattering. But whatever.
She smiled. “So are you jealous?”
There was a flicker of movement in the corners of his mouth. “I’m not saying that. It’s just not right. He’s my best friend.”
“Okay, sure, and if he’s too stupid to snap me up…” She narrowed her eyes playfully.
“Stop that, Becca, come on.”
“Stop what?”
“We had…” He looked around and lowered his voice even more. “We had sex and now this is just not right, I can’t be—”
She rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall. “Oh, Johnny, you stop it. You’re thinking way too hard. We’re young. We only have two years left. Just
go
with it. No one’s getting hurt. No one’s going to get arrested or die. It’s all good.”
She could tell she was winning him over. But he still looked like he might argue.
“Look,” she said, “is all this to say that you don’t want to do it again?” Becca ran a hand through her hair and pushed herself off the wall. “Because I’m not going to stand here all day and beg for you.”
She would not be rejected by both of them. If she walked away it would be her choice, not because he denied her.
He was silent for a moment, thinking. Her heart jumped as she realized he really might say no. She shook her head irritably and pushed past him. She got a few steps before he called her name. She hesitated and then kept walking.
“Becca…
Becca!
” He jogged up behind her. His hands on her shoulders stopped her.
He glanced around, and when he saw no one, he kissed her. It sent a shock through her. She hadn’t felt anything like it. It was like no one had ever kissed her and meant it before. When he finally pulled away, she looked up at him. When she spoke, her voice wasn’t strong or vital and controlling as it usually was. Her words weren’t calculated and meant to get her to an end. Her voice was small and hopeful, and her words were nervous. “Can we go…somewhere?”
Later that night, Max came to Becca’s door in the girls’ hall. She opened the door to see Max looking hot, and the girls along the hallway looking out of their doors.
“I thought about what you said. And you’re right.”
Was he about to ask her out? She was practically still sweating from her rendezvous with Johnny. She gave a nervous flatten of her hair, and said, “Oh, yeah?”
He nodded. “So if you’ll still do it, then…we can do it.”
She felt everyone’s eyes on her. “You want to be with me, is this what you’re saying?”
“Yeah.”
She smiled and pulled him into her room. “Dana, do you think you could…make yourself scarce for a little while?”
Dana hurried up and out the door. Becca shut it, and the flurry of chatter outside told her that what she was about to do was exactly what she had to.
CHAPTER TEN
ALMOST A WEEK HAD PASSED SINCE MY FREAK
-out at Dana, and neither one of us had said a word. She had followed my snotty advice and put Becca’s pictures all over her own wall. I’d suffered the consequences of my own rage, too, when I stepped on a thumbtack on the way to the bathroom one night.
I finished
To Kill a Mockingbird,
and completed my paper on The Small Town Effect. I’d focused on the wildfire spread of gossip and what it does in a small environment and to the people within it. Somehow, I’d managed to get inspired. Go figure.
All the other classes passed by in a haze of challenging busywork. They were just the classes to get through until Painting. When Max and I spoke, we talked about our assignments and other banal things like the weather. Of which there was far too much. As I sat now, outside Dr. Morgan’s office, I watched cold, gray rain pour down in sheets outside. It pounded on the windows, as though it was pleading to come in. I didn’t blame it. It was miserable out there.
My appointment to talk about college and “whatever else” had been at three-thirty, but it was three-forty now and I still hadn’t been called in. Just as I glanced at the clock on the wall again (the only one I’d seen in the school so far), I heard a muffled shout coming from her office.
The secretary raised her eyebrows wordlessly and continued filing her papers.
Dr. Morgan’s door flew open.
“I just
hate
this, I don’t know why we’re even pretending!” It was Dana. She stormed out and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me.
She let out a groan, and her hands flew to her head in anger. Her fingers looked like they must be pressing dents into her skull. “Why are
you
here?”
I couldn’t speak.
“Why?”
Dr. Morgan shuffled over to Dana. She put a hand on her arm, but Dana shrugged it off violently. “Stop! I want to be left alone! I want an empty room, I don’t want to be with this stupid,
fake
—”
“Bite your tongue, Miss Veers.”
“I
hate you!
” Dana spit at me. I stared at her in shock.
Dr. Morgan glanced at me, and then led a reluctant Dana back into her office. A moment after she shut the door, it opened again.
“Please come in.” She gestured to me. I glanced at the secretary again, whose eyebrows were still raised, and who still filed wordlessly.
I walked into the room Dana was filling with negativity.
“Have a seat.”
I sat.
“Very well,” Dr. Morgan began. “Is there some kind of conflict between the two of you?”
“Nope,” Dana said, simply.
“What is the problem?” Dr. Morgan looked to me.
“I…I don’t know.”
“There’s no problem.”
Dr. Morgan looked very seriously at her for a moment and then spoke.
“Miss Veers, I know this is an unspeakably hard time for you—” She stopped as Dana let out a derisive snort. She breathed and then started again. “As I say, I know it’s difficult. But you cannot be angry because Becca’s side of your room has been filled by a new student.”
Dana didn’t speak.
“I encourage you both to talk about what’s bothering you, so that you can work through it.”
Both of us? How was it not obvious that I had done nothing wrong?
I glanced at Dana, who was looking deadly. I stayed silent. Dr. Morgan waited at first, and then pulled out a date book.
“Dana, are you available at around four tomorrow afternoon?”
I looked at her. There was something in her expression besides fury. She looked worried. Nervous. A pang of pity struck me unexpectedly.
“Yes, four is fine.”
Dr. Morgan scribbled in her book and Dana walked out without looking at me. The door shut quietly, but a sound rang through me as if she’d slammed it.
Dr. Morgan cleared her throat and looked at me. “How have things been since your arrival?”
“Um…fine.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Really.”
She waited for me to change my mind or go on. When I didn’t, she cleared her throat.
“You know, it’s a good idea to talk about how you’re feeling to someone like me, especially when you’re in a new place and don’t know many people.”
I hesitated. Nothing that was bothering me could come out sounding anything less than selfish and self-pitying.
I smiled and shrugged. “I’m good, I like it here.”
She waited again, as she had when Dana had lied, and then carried on.
“Well, then, on to other business.” She placed her glasses on her nose and looked down at a manila folder that must be mine. “You’ve been accepted to a few colleges already, I see?”
“Yes, Florida State University and Boston University.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Two very different places. May I ask why you applied to each?”
“Boston is where my parents went. They met there and everything.” I thought of the photo album filled with pictures from their four years there. It was what I imagined when I thought of college. It was so…I don’t know, academic feeling. They had millions of pictures in front of big old buildings or in small, awful dorm rooms with big windows that looked out on a place filled with history. I imagined a grassy quad filled with studying students in scarves and BU sweatshirts, good-looking guys throwing perfectly spiraled footballs, and a slightly chilly wind carrying fallen leaves across the sidewalks that lead to brick dorms filled with first experiences.
Not that I’d thought about it very much.
“And why FSU?” Dr. Morgan asked, shaking me from my thoughts.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just always planned to go there. It’s where all of my friends are going and it’s near home.”
Then there were the thoughts that came to mind when I thought of going there. Palm trees and smooth, modern buildings. Hugely popular bands performing in the stadium. Still being able to tan in October.
It had always been the plan. But when I thought of it, it just felt like it would be too easy.
My friends and I would stay in our habits at school. I wouldn’t make a whole other group of friends. I’d go home a lot. I’d have fun, but wouldn’t try anything new. I had horrible images of myself graduating and sticking around, never seeing anything new. Never taking a risk.
“Which are you leaning toward, either one?”
“I’ve been planning on going to FSU.”
“And what major are you considering currently?”
“I don’t know yet.”
She looked at me as if waiting for me to decide on one. When I gave a pitiful smile, she said, “All right, that’s fine. Most people don’t know at this stage anyway. You’ve got plenty of time.”
“I wanted to talk to you, or whoever, about maybe a scholarship. I don’t know if I have the grades or…I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to ask about it.”
“Well, the problem there is that scholarships are easiest to come by when you do have a major in mind.” She squinted and then bent over to open a drawer behind her. She pulled from it a stapled packet. “Fill this out.”
“What is it?”
“It’s called Major Undecided. It’s basically a test to find out where your interests really lie. I must encourage you to answer honestly. Take your time doing it. This could really help you. So don’t look at it like homework. Look at it as a ticket to your decision.”
I nodded. “I will.”
“Well, if there’s not anything else we need to discuss, then you’re all set.” She eyed me carefully. “And you’re sure there’s nothing else?”
“That’s all for me.” I stood, and then hesitated. “I mean, it’s been difficult, in some ways. But that’s just because I’m new. It’s always hard to be new.”
She nodded, waiting for me to go on.
“I just…I feel weird because I’m in Becca Normandy’s room and I feel like everyone else feels weird about that, too. I’m not trying to take her place.”
“Of course not.”
“And Madison and Julia…I don’t know if you know them, you probably do…well anyway, they were friends with Becca, and they keep asking me if I like Max Holloway—” my heart skipped a little on his name “—and I never said I did. And even if I did, it shouldn’t be up to them what I do with it, right? I know it’s kind of weird because Becca’s his girlfriend…but if he liked me back, then would it be messed up of me to just go with it?”
“Don’t worry about the other girls. They are going through something very traumatizing, and it’s making them all think too hard. I must admit, I was afraid of what the repercussions might be when you arrived.”
The idea that she had seen this coming startled me. “Really?”
“Of course. You
replaced—
” she did quotes with her fingers “—a student here whom a lot of other students cared for. Especially Dana, Madison, Julia, etc. I’m sure it’s very difficult to feel welcoming of someone who wouldn’t be here if their friend still was.”
That was blunt.
“But what you must remember,” Dr. Morgan went on, “is that anything they do that is an effect of their own fluxing emotions has
nothing
to do with you.”
When I left, I wasn’t sure if I felt better or not.
Saturday afternoon, Blake invited me to go into town with her.
“Manderley is like being stuck in an attic. Dusty, cold, and you feel like you might be struck by lightning at any moment. Sometimes it’s just nice to get out.”
We wandered around Main Street for a little while, chatting about this and that, before deciding to get a bite to eat from a French café called Les Filles de Cuisine. I hoped it would taste anything like my mother’s cooking.
I saw the menu had Orangina, like most of these Americanized places, and ordered it immediately.
“Blake?”
We both turned to see Madison and Julia coming in.
“Madison, Julia, hey.” Blake sounded as tired of them as I was.
They pulled the other two-seater table up to ours. “I love this place,” said Madison. “Their food is so good. I didn’t think we’d be able to come though.”