Phantom Limbs (25 page)

“Otis!” she called out. She patted the floor next to her. “Come play!”

“Give it up, Kiera,” Heinz told her.

I went ahead and sat by Kiera; what else was I going to do? She smiled at me, flipping her thick, dark hair. She was wearing a red tank top and tight jeans. My lizard brain stamped its approval.

Heinz bounced a quarter neatly into the cup and pointed at Kiera with his elbow. “Down it, baby.”

Kiera gulped down the beer, then grinned, the quarter flashing in her front teeth. She took it out and turned to me. “Sure you won’t play?” she asked. “Come on, please?” Her lips glistened. They were on the full side, kind of sexy — not unlike her breasts, which I could see all too well in the tank top. Was it just the
proximity
to beer making me go stupid? She was pretty, dammit. And
sexy.
And she smelled sort of exotic and spicy.

With boldness that came from I don’t know where, I asked her what perfume she was wearing.

“Poison,” she said. “You like?” She leaned forward, moving her neck close to my nose, creating an ocean-deep trail of cleavage before me.

The blood rushed from my head, leaving me dizzy. “Uh-huh.”

Heinz said to Kiera, “Hey, your turn. Quit flirting with Shakespeare and play the game.”

“I like flirting with Shakespeare,” she said, aiming the quarter. She tossed it down, and it bounced off Heinz’s forehead and landed about ten feet away.

“I suck,” she pointed out. She turned to me again. The intensity of her gaze made me blush. “Did you know,” she asked in a low voice, “that you have beautiful lips?”

I do?

She stared at my mouth. “They look sooooo soft.”

I swallowed hard. “Well, you know. I am a fan of the mint ChapStick.” I cringed inwardly.
Great line, Shakespeare.

Doink. Splat.
Another guy pointed his elbow at Kiera. I know I’m generally the uptight sort, but if the guys were ganging up on the girl to get her drunk, I really didn’t think that was cool.

Kiera drained the cup and then bounced another quarter into oblivion.

She leaned over and whispered, “Let’s go for a walk.”

Oh boy. Not a good idea
, a voice in my head said. But then another voice — one that came from a slightly more southerly location — piped up.
Hey, live a little! Meg’s probably having wild animal sex with her boyfriend this very minute.

The thought cut some sort of cord inside me. I stood and let Kiera guide me away from the group.

I followed her outside and to the backyard. Shit — she was heading for the gazebo, which reminded me of Meg. “Come on,” she called back to me, waving her arms and weaving slightly.

“Did you drive tonight?” I couldn’t help asking.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I live close.” She stepped into the gazebo and leaned out, giving me a definite
come hither
look.

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to drive.” I sat beside her on the bench, leaving a quickly calculated six inches or so between us, which I hoped was neither too pushy nor too intimate.

“Don’t be such a ret wag. I mean,
ret wag
. I mean —” She burst into giggles.

“Wet rag,” I supplied. “Thanks.”

“No, no, I didn’t mean it,” she said, reaching up and laying her hand on my cheek. “I was just kidding. Oh God, you’re so cute.”

“Kiera? I want you to give me your car keys.”

A sexy smile. A very sexy smile. “What’ll you do for ’em?”

I took a deep breath, looking out at the sky. If I continued to meet her smoldering gaze, I might burst into flames.

I ran a hand through my hair. “Um, get you home safely?”

“Well, I might give ’em to you . . . if you kiss me.”

An electric bolt shot to my belly, and then my heart started to pound. Did I want to kiss her? Part of me didn’t, and part of me did. Which part was in charge?

“Come on,” I coaxed. “Just give me your keys.”

She ran her tongue over her plush lips, her eyes firing hot beams into my brain. Okay, I mostly did want to kiss her. Every time I had a flash of Meg making out with Jeff, an image that kept coming to me unbidden, I wanted nothing more than to forget her fast.

“One kiss?” I asked, my voice coming out weaker than intended.

“Sure,” she said in a breathy voice. She dug her keys out of her pocket and placed them in my palm.

My heart drummed in my chest. I sat motionless for a moment, trying to decide if this was a mistake.
It’s a safety issue
, I told myself.
So she’ll give me her keys. A life is at stake!

Kiera leaned forward and ended my internal arguments. Her soft lips met mine in a kiss that knew what it was doing. The smell of her perfume made my eyes cross, and when her fingers snaked around my neck and pulled me closer, I was lost.

Kissing Kiera was wild and disorienting, like jumping into a seemingly bottomless lake and being unable to find the surface. After a while, her mouth trailed away from mine and she started kissing my neck, and then her tongue was in my ear, giving me goose bumps the size of golf balls. When she found my mouth again, I put my arms around her and pulled her closer. Feeling her breasts pressed against my chest made me stupid with desire.

Her hands, her hands — how many hands did she have? Her fingertips slid up my inner thigh, causing shock waves that radiated straight to my dick. She wandered around the vicinity for a while until I was so turned on, I just wanted to grab her hand and move it straight to the bull’s-eye. She took one of my hands and slid it up until it was cupping her breast. I struggled to breathe. I wanted to keep going so bad, I couldn’t think straight. At that moment, what would be more bizarre than me pushing her away?

And yet.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, reaching for me again.

“Stop,” I said. I panted, my hands shaking.

“You kiss so nice,” she said, leaning close again.

I pushed away from her, cradling my head in my hands. “I’m so sorry, Kiera.”

“You don’t like me?” She sounded confused, hurt. “I’ve liked you for such a long time.” She leaned back against the gazebo wall. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for, like, ever.”

“I do like you!” I exclaimed. “It’s just . . .”

“Is there someone else?” She sounded so sad, it made me hate myself.

“Not exactly.” I didn’t want to admit I was hung up on Meg. “Things are just complicated for me right now.”

“Well, fuck.”

Yeah.
Fuck.

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “Can I take you home?”

She looked at me like I was nuts. “Are you kidding? I’m not going to walk in while my parents are awake!”

All I wanted to do was leave, but now I felt obliged to drive her home, since I wasn’t about to give her car keys back to her. I just hoped her parents weren’t night owls.

We walked back to the house together, holding hands for some reason. When we got inside, she headed for a bathroom. Was she going to cry in there? If I made her cry, I might never stop hating myself.

There was no one I wanted to hang out with and no activity I wanted to participate in. Coming to this party was a stupid idea, and now I was stuck. I went upstairs to see if Dara was in her room with the door wide open and all her clothes on. That question was answered when Abby appeared at the top of the stairs.

“I’m going to check on the chaos downstairs,” she said, slipping past me. “She’s in her room,” she called behind her.

Dara’s door hung partway open. She lay on her bed, eyes closed, a lazy half smile on her face.

“Hey,” I said.

She glanced up and scooted over, patting the bed. “Close the door.”

I pushed the door closed and lay down next to her. “Could you please just tell me about the lesbian sex and help me take my mind off my troubles?”

And she did. She curled up next to me and gave me the details of her night with Abby, which was even hotter than I was expecting. Like, all-the-clothes-off hot. Touching-
everywhere
hot. It was awesome, and I was glad she seemed so happy, but . . . honestly, it all seemed kind of fast to me.

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “You cannot believe how amazing it is when someone else makes you come.”

“Don’t depress me.”

This would have been the time to tell her about Kiera, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. And besides, given the things she hadn’t been telling me, the omission felt justified.

She glanced at me. “Dude. You look like shit — no offense. Why don’t you bail?”

I sighed. “I have to drive Kiera home. And she’s not ready to leave yet.”

“Why do you have to drive her?” Dara said, getting up and going over to her dresser.

“She’s drunk and I took her keys. I can’t just strand her here. What time is it, anyway?”

“Eleven.” She leaned toward the mirror, fixing her hair with her fingers.

“Could you just kick everyone out?” I asked. “Then you can have more lesbian sex, and I can go home.”

“I’ll drive Kiera home for you.”

“You will?”

She nodded. “She lives, like, two minutes from here.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Nope!”

That was new. Was this Abby’s influence? “Not to push my luck, but do you think you could take me home, too?” I asked. “I’m done.”

“Sure. Come on.”

I followed her downstairs and sidestepped a drunken wrestling match between an actual wrestler and Heinz, who was pinned seventy ways to Tuesday and laughing his ass off. Dara went to find Abby to tell her she was taking me home. I scanned the room for Kiera, but I didn’t see her anywhere. I wished for the umpteenth time I could turn back time. It was a stupid thing to do, making out with her. Kind of mind-bogglingly awesome, but stupid.

“Here,” Dara said, handing me the keys to the Stupidmobile. “You drive.”

“Sweet.” I handed her Kiera’s keys.

Out in the garage, I started her car, admiring the way it purred and, oh God, that new-car smell. “When are you going to sell it?” I asked.

“As soon as possible.”

It was criminal. The car was a thing of beauty.

I backed out, carefully avoiding all the cars parked on the street in front of her house. I pulled away, and we drove in silence for a while, windows down. The sky was lavish with stars, and I longed for the days when Meg and I goofed around in the backyard on summer nights, slapping at mosquitoes and trying to aim my telescope to find something interesting, not really caring whether we did or didn’t.

“Hey,” I said, glancing over at Dara. “Are you happy?”

She leaned back, eyes closed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

It was such a rush, hearing those words from her. “Well, it’s about fucking time.”

“Now if only Meg would pull her head out of her ass.”

I could have hugged her for understanding, for caring. But the reminder of Meg made my stomach ache. “I get to watch them together in Michigan,” I said, flicking off the headlights as I pulled into my driveway. “At least I have one day before they come.” I shifted into park and looked out my open window at the stars.

“She loves you, you know.”

I turned to her. “How do you know?”

“Because I know.”

“How?”

She turned her gaze out her own window. “I don’t know. Because of the chicken, I guess.”

The chicken?
“What?”

“The winter sports banquet.”

When I cut up Dara’s chicken? What in the world was she talking about? “But — Meg doesn’t know about that.”

She stared at me like I was a total bonehead. “That doesn’t matter.”

If ever there comes a day when a woman makes sense to me, it will flat out be a miracle.

“Well, even if she does love me,” I said, “there’s no guarantee of a happy ending.”

She glanced down, then back out her window. “There never is.”

THE MORNING WAS BLINDING WITH SUN AND smelled of weed spray and tar from the neighbor’s freshly paved driveway. “I wish I weren’t going,” I mumbled, half to myself, as I helped my dad reorganize the car so everything would fit. He heaved a sigh and turned to me.

“I know, I know,” I said, holding up my hands, not wanting a lecture. “Forget I said it.”

“Otis,” he said, adjusting the god-awful fisherman’s cap he liked to wear on vacations, “I know it sucks. All you can do is step up and try to make the best of it.”

Easy for him to say. Although that’s probably exactly what he’d do in my shoes. He’d probably end up best friends with the guy.

On the upside, it was a good three hours to Silver Lake, and I was only six hours short of my stupid fifty to get my license. This trip would do it.

It was an easy drive, once we got through the city traffic and the worst of my mom’s panicky backseat driving. At that point she switched over to stressing about the Brandts and how she’d never get to relax because she’d always be playing hostess and what Meg’s boyfriend would be like and if things would be awkward and if Jay would have a good time . . . She went on endlessly. My dad and I didn’t have much to contribute, but she didn’t seem to notice; she did fine on her own.

Before long we were into Indiana, home of all those fireworks emporiums. I pulled over at one of them, lured by the sign
STOP IN AND SEE THE AMAZING TWO-HEADED TURTLE!!!
Sure enough, they had a real live freak of nature there for the ogling, and I took a picture of it that I wanted to send to Meg but didn’t. The idea of her boyfriend looking at it with her . . . Yeah, no.