Point of Retreat (Slammed #2)(22)

I take the stage and walk up to the microphone, adjusting the height of it. My poem isn’t going to make sense to anyone besides Lake. This one’s just for her.

“My piece is called Point of Retreat,” I say into the microphone. The spotlight is bright, so I can’t see her from up here, but I have a pretty good idea she’s smiling. I don’t rush the words of the poem, I perform it slow so she can take in every word of it.

Twenty-two hours and our war begins.

Our war of limbs

and lips

and hands…

The point of retreat

Is no longer a factor

When both sides of the line

Agree to surrender

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve lost…

Or is it how many times you’ve won?

This game we’ve been playing for fifty-nine weeks

I’d say the score

is

none

to

none.

Twenty-two hours and our war begins

Our war of limbs

and lips

and hands…

The best part of finally

Not calling retreat?

The showers above us

Raining down on our feet

While the bombs are exploding and the guns fire their rounds. Before the two of us collapse to the ground. Before the battle, before the war…

You need to know

I’d go fifty-nine more.

Whatever it takes to let you win.

I’d retreat all over

and all over

and over

again.

I back away from the microphone and find the stairs. I’m not even halfway back to the booth when Lake throws her arms around my neck and kisses me. “Thank you,” she whispers in my ear.

When I slide into the booth, Caulder rolls his eyes. “You could have warned us, Will. We would have hid in the bathroom.”

“I thought it was beautiful,” Kiersten says.

It’s after nine when round two gets underway. “Come on kids, you guys have school tomorrow. We need to go,” I say. They all whine as they slide out of the booth one by one.

***

Once we get home, the kids head into the houses and Lake and I linger in the driveway, hugging. It's getting harder and harder to be separated from her at night, knowing she’s just yards away. It's become a nightly struggle not to text her and beg her to come crawl in bed with me. Now that our promise to Julia has been fulfilled, I have a feeling nothing will stop us after tomorrow night. Well, other than the fact that we're trying to set a good example for Kel and Caulder. But there's ways to sneak around that.

I slide my hands up the back of her shirt to warm them. They’re freezing. She apparently thinks so too and begins to squirm, trying to get out of my grasp.

"Your hands are freezing!" she laughs, still trying to pull away from me.

I just squeeze her tighter. "I know. That's why you need to be still so I can warm them up." I rub them against her skin, attempting to keep the mental images of tomorrow night from overtaking my thoughts at the moment. It's so distracting. I remove my hands from underneath her shirt and wrap my arms around her.

“So. Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” I ask her.

She shoots me a dirty look. “Do you want me to punch you in the face or the nuts?”

I laugh, but prepare to defend myself just in case. “My grandparents are worried the boys will get bored at their house, so they want to keep them at my house instead. The good news is, we can’t stay at your house now so I booked us two nights in a hotel in Detroit.”

“That’s not bad news. Don’t scare me like that,” she says.

"I just thought you would be a little apprehensive about seeing my grandmother. I know how you feel about her.”

She looks at me and frowns. “Don’t, Will. You know good and well it’s not how I feel about her. She hates me!”

“She doesn’t hate you,” I say. “She’s just protective of me.” I wrap my arms around her tighter and try to push the thought out of her mind by kissing her ear.

“Well, it’s your fault she hates me anyway.”

I pull back and look at her. “My fault? How is it my fault?”

She rolls her eyes. “Your graduation? You don’t remember what you said the first night I met her?”

I don’t remember. I don’t know what she’s talking about. I try to remember, but nothing comes to mind.

“Will, we were all over each other. After your graduation when we all went out to eat, you could barely talk you were kissing me so much. It was making your grandmother really uncomfortable. When she asked you how long we’d been dating, you told her eighteen hours! How do you think that made me look?”

I remember now. That dinner was really fun. It felt great not to be ethically bound from putting my hands all over her, so that's all I did all night long.

“But it’s sort of true,” I say. “We were only officially dating for eighteen hours.”

Lake hits me on the arm. “She thinks I’m a slut, Will! It’s embarrassing!”

I touch my lips against her ear again. “Not yet, you’re not,” I tease.

She pushes me away and points to herself. “You aren’t getting any more of this for twenty-four hours.” She laughs and starts to walk backwards up her driveway.