The Best Laid Plans(97)
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I’ve been such an idiot.”
“Yeah,” he says. “You have.” He’s grinning and I whack him on the shoulder. “But so have I.” He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “When you asked me who I was in love with, I thought you knew it was you. I thought you were trying to tell me you loved me back. But then you turned me down again, and I couldn’t handle it. I told you it was Danielle, because it was easy. I knew you would hate it. And then I felt so stupid and I didn’t know how to fix it. I wrote you that card on your birthday, and you never even said anything.”
“I didn’t see it!” I say.
“I should have just said something to you,” he says. “Could have saved us so much time.”
“You’re right. We’re both idiots.”
I kiss him again.
“You’re sure there’s no fire?” he asks.
“No fire.”
“Good.” He grabs my waist and flips us so that my back is against the wall, then presses me into it, covering my body with his.
“Hey!” A voice shouts from down the hall, and Andrew pulls away from me to turn and look. I miss the feel of his lips on mine immediately, and I wonder if every time we’re not kissing for the rest of my life I’ll be missing him. “Hey, there she is!” It’s the concierge from the front desk, running toward us. And with him is Andrew’s uncle Leroy, dressed in his full fireman uniform.
Before I can think about it, I grab Andrew’s hand and start running down the other end of the hallway, pulling him along behind me. I throw open the door to the back stairwell and we barrel through it and keep running, trying hard not to fall down the stairs and kill ourselves. When we get down to the main level we keep running, turning random corners, tearing down hallways until we’ve lost them. There are so many doors that I wonder if even the concierge knows every hidden nook and cranny. The alarm is still blaring around us, lights flashing.
“In here!” Andrew says, taking a sharp left and then opening a door to a storage room under the stairs. I follow him in and then he shuts the door behind us and immediately, the sound of the siren is cut off. It’s dark in here, almost pitch-black, and I should be worried about spiders or rats or something, but I’m not. Because Andrew’s arms are around me and then we’re kissing again and he loves me and that’s all that matters.
“I’m so losing my job for this,” Andrew says, his smile against mine.
“It’s worth it,” I whisper.
“Oh, it’s so worth it.” He kisses me again and I reach up and undo his tie just enough so that I can pull open the buttons of his shirt. He reaches behind me and I can feel him struggling with the zipper of my prom dress. I help guide his hand and pull the zipper down, rolling the dress off my body. Reaching out, I undo his belt and then he zips down his fly, the sound of it loud in the quiet room. I can’t see him but I can feel him, can feel his hands as they slide my underwear down over my hips, as they touch me in a place that’s never been touched before. I gasp as he moves his fingers there, reaching my own hands into his boxers and touching him.
I realize suddenly that this is what it’s supposed to feel like—this ache between my legs, this urgent need in my chest, the feeling in my stomach like bubbling champagne. This was how I never felt with Dean, upstairs in that beautiful suite, on the canopy bed, where everything was supposed to be perfect.
I reach into my purse and pull out the condom—the one I had planned to use earlier. Fumbling, I hand it to him in the dark and listen as he rips it open and slides it on.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his whisper tickling my ear.
“Yes,” I say, and I am. I’m suddenly so sure that I might die if he doesn’t continue.
“I love you so much,” he whispers against my mouth.
“I love you too,” I whisper back.
And so I lose my virginity on prom night, and it isn’t perfect, because how could I expect it to be? Here’s what I’ve realized about moments: you can’t plan for them. The best ones are always the ones that take you by surprise.
THIRTY-FOUR
SO WHAT I DIDN’T know is that pulling a fire alarm is a misdemeanor, which means it goes on my record and I could actually go to jail.
Luckily that doesn’t happen.
What happens is this: Andrew and I come out of the cupboard eventually and are taken down to the station. Andrew’s uncle calls his parents, who then call my parents, and soon they’re all at the police station with me, pulled out of bed in pajamas and bathrobes and all with something to say. My parents have never been so mad at me (not just about the alarm, but also the hotel room, and the whiskey, and the whole resisting arrest thing), and when they eventually tire of yelling, Andrew’s parents step in and take over. In the end, I’m fined seven hundred dollars, which I’ll be working for months at the video store to pay back. I would say that spending all summer with Dean is the worst thing I could possibly imagine, but it beats jail. Barely.
Andrew is thrilled by the fact that I’m officially a criminal. When I wake up the morning after prom, his truck is waiting in my driveway. I’m supposed to be grounded until graduation, but my parents give me five minutes to talk to him. Secretly, I think the exception is because of how excited they are that we’re together; I have to keep reminding my mom we’re too young for her to make jokes about our babies.