Liars and Losers Like Us(58)

I want to tell him that I have a lot of things to say, but I’m scared. I tuck my foot under his, feeling the sand and water glide between my toes. All of this feels so good and almost perfect. How he had me give him a ride home from Java Joint instead of Jane. The way his eyes and voice warm up when he calls me Breeze or Breezy. How he wrote the haiku and Prom song, and showed me his old house and played the guitar. How I got soincrediblyclose to losing my virginity the night after the drive-in. Telling him about Maisey in the closet. Hearing about his dad. Sharing wine.

We lace our fingers together and they sink into the sand.

“I wonder if this is what falling in love feels like,” I finally say out loud.

“I wouldn’t know,” Sean says. My heart does a quick dip into my gut.

“Right, yeah.” I roll my pants up a little more as if it’s a very important task.

“I wouldn’t know because falling sounds like it takes a while. But a real fall is so quick that it only lasts a few seconds. If it’s not that big of a jump, you don’t have time to feel it.” His fingers trace over the top of my hand, then locks his fingers back in mine.

“You lost me at jump. What?”

“What I’m saying is that I don’t think you’re the kind of person I could’ve spent a long time falling in love with. It was too easy. Just a short jump. Like one second I had a crush on you and the next second I was already in love with you, there was no time to fall.”

“Oh, wow. That’s … thank you.”

Sean leans in and says, “I love you, Bree. Bree Hughes.”

“I love you.” I say it straight into his eyes and the words warm up my whole body.

We lean in and our lips meet. We kiss, just kiss, for what feels like forever. My toes dig into the sand as my ankles graze and rub into his. The same kind of fire that I felt last weekend ignites. Like the first crackles of a bonfire, it’s a slow burn with hot ashes prickling my skin. It feels hot and then sometimes it flies away leaving its mark, the tingles burning into my pores. I want to do everything to make this feeling go away and everything to make him want me even more. The slightly cool air turns tepid. The sand beneath my back molds to my body. And then we’re hands all over, under and in, bodies moving, seams brushing, gripping, jeans unsnapping.

“Do you want to?” I say on a heavy exhale.

Sean looks down at me, leans to his side, and rests on his elbow and hip. “I do, but, um … I don’t have anything—a condom.” His breath is heavy, his eyes burn. “I have one in my wallet in the house. We can run back.”

I finish pulling off my jeans and reach into my front pocket. Then, I hold up the little plastic square, feeling a pang of nervousness, embarrassment, and empowerment—somehow all at once.

“Are you sure?” he says, closing his hand over mine.

I close my eyes, inhaling the moon’s reflection on the lake. “Yes, I’m sure.”





TWENTY-FIVE


Breeeeeeakfast in ten minutes, courtesy of Molly!” Kallie pounds on the bedroom door. I hop up, rushing into the bathroom, leaving Sean rubbing his eyes. Sean and I. Me and Sean. My reflection stares back from the streak-free mirror of the Vates’ guest bathroom. So this is what non-virgins look like, huh? I feel a little different. Maybe vulnerable, awkward and for sure a little sore, but my face looks the same. My mouth tastes terrible so I brush my teeth and do a double rinse with mouthwash. Just because he said “I love you” last night doesn’t mean I’m going to chill in bed with morning breath like they do in the movies. I rake my hair into a loose ponytail and wipe the mascara smear from under my right eye.

“I’ll be downstairs.” I kiss Sean on the corner of his mouth, then back out of the door as he smiles and pulls the covers over his head.

“We’ll be down in a minute,” yells Kallie as I head downstairs toward the sound and smell of sizzling bacon.

“Good morning Sunshine!” Molly says with her pink glossy smile and a spatula. Not a trace of puke in her hair or the corners of her mouth.

I smile back. “How is it that the last time you got sick, I’m the one who woke up looking and smelling like puke? Last night you drink, throw up, and all of a sudden you’re downstairs making breakfast looking like a hot Martha Stewart Barbie. It’s just wrong.”

“You’re so funny. And please, look at you. You look great and you don’t even have to try. I had to take a shower, blow-dry my hair, and put on makeup. You waltz down here in your sweats and a ponytail looking like—like hot morning-after Barbie. Soooooo?” Molly turns off the burner, and leans over the breakfast bar at me. “Spill the beans. Did you or didn’t you?”

“Oh please,” I say. “I’m boring. I want to hear about you. What happened with Justin?”

Molly scans the empty kitchen, then leans in and whispers, “We didn’t. Can you believe that? We ended up talking too much. He thinks I’m still hung up on Todd. The more we talked, the more I realized that he’s actually the kind of guy I’d want to date. So, now I’m confused.”

“Justin Conner. Who knew?”

“I know, right? Do you think he likes me?”

“Molly. Who wouldn’t?”

“Okay, here’s an even bigger question? Do you think Jane would kill me if I asked her to switch Prom dates? I’d rather go with Justin.”