Twelve Steps to Normal(72)

A nervous zing courses through me. God, he’s gorgeous.

My heart stumbles. I catch my breath.

“Hey.”

He looks up, a grin spreading quickly across his face. “Hey!” He steps to the side, then gestures to his creation. “I wanted you to meet Audrey II.”

I’m floored. Alex has really brought this life-size monster plant to life. The shell of the Venus flytrap body is coated in a glossy green paint, and vines twist along the outside of the base. The enormous mouth contains dozens of sharp wooden teeth—painted white—that give her a truly menacing personality.

“I still have some tweaks to work out. I want to make her look more waxy than shiny, but I’ve finally got the pulley system working.”

He walks around to the back, and I follow. There’s a large, gaping hole in the back of the plant-body, and a small bench, and Alex’s slender frame slides in with ease. His right arm reaches for a rope to his right while his feet press down on two different pedals. In an instant, Audrey II’s giant mouth widens.

I marvel at the mechanics of it all. “That’s amazing.”

He eases his grip on the rope, and the mouth closes. “Wanna try?”

“Can I?”

Instead of exiting the gap, Alex scoots over to make room for me. My heart bangs against my chest as I slide in next to him, leg against leg, shoulder against shoulder.

“Okay,” he says, his soft breath tickling my neck. “Press down on both of those pedals and pull the rope at the same time. You’ll feel it give.”

Our fingers touch as he hands me the rope, and a rush of heat fills my body. I blink away the persistent pounding in my ears, using all my strength to pull. I feel it give, just like Alex said.

“You’re a natural.”

I find my voice through my nervousness. “I’ll add it to my list of many talents: Life-sized Botanical Puppeteer.”

Alex laughs, and the vibrations of his body course against mine. When he stops, he looks right at me. His gaze is so intense, so immediate. My chest rises and falls in quick motions, but his does, too. His soft brown eyes are still searching mine, deciphering. Deciding.

I so desperately want him to show me exactly what’s on his mind.

He reaches toward me, his thumb trailing down my jawline. Chills and yearning and desire burst through my chest. Slowly, carefully, he tips his head toward me. His bottom lip brushes mine, a motion that sends raw electricity spiraling through my veins. I take in a sharp breath, closing my eyes as his lips fully cover my own.

That one spectacular motion sets me off.

I devour the sensation, breathing him in. His hands are still cold, but the heat from my body could start a fire between us. I run my hands down the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, and his breath hitches in surprise.

All I can think is Alex, Alex, Alex—this is Alex. How long have I wanted this for, and how long have I been denying that I’ve wanted this? His lips are so urgent on mine, but his hands are so gentle. I shiver, tangling my hands through his loose curls before we both gasp, pulling away.

Oh god. We’re still at school. What were we thinking? I mean, clearly we weren’t, but anyone could have walked in. We’re both on thin ice with Mrs. Donaldson. We don’t need to get on anyone else’s bad side.

Alex is flushed, and I imagine I am as well. His hair is rumpled but his eyes are glowing, and I ache to dive back in.

As we collectively try and catch our breath, he turns to me. “Can I ask you something?”

I wonder if he can see the warmth on my cheeks. “Go for it.”

“Would you rather live in this gigantic Venus flytrap for the rest of your life, or give Mrs. Donaldson a pedicure?”

A burst of laughter escapes my lips. I’m still shaky from his kiss, but I try and keep my voice steady. “I’d stay right here.” His hand is still on my knee and when he notices, he blushes. I don’t want him to remove it, but I know it’s probably best to extinguish the flame for now. “God, I don’t even want to imagine touching her feet.”

Alex laughs. “Me, either.”

I sigh. Everything has changed, but it feels so right. So easy.

I turn back to him. “Can I ask you a question?”

He nods.

I take a deep breath, then blurt out what’s been on my mind since we talked about it on Friday. “Why don’t you look into applying to a film school? Or somewhere that has a stronger focus in screenwriting?”

He’s quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know. Ana is already set on attending Stanford, and Marlina’s already thinking of transferring to Kansas State. It just seems selfish, I guess.” He shrugs. “It feels like I’m ditching my mom.”

“Does she feel that way?”

“Well, no—”

I give him an encouraging grin. “Then why not go for it? You designed this set for Little Shop of Horrors. You’ve finished screenplays—”

“I was twelve when I wrote those. And they were terrible.”

“They weren’t, but you’re going to write your own pilot someday. And it’s going to be great.” I look at him. “You’re talented, Alex. You should really go for it.”

He looks down at the pedals. “It’s hard, I guess. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard if I wasn’t the youngest.”