Delicate (5 page)

“It looks fabulous, Tess,” I say. It really d
oes
. And it show
s
off her ample chest. Another dra
wback to being an elite gymnast— n
othing going on up top.

“Yep, that’s the one,” Quinn says.

I look over and she’
s wearing
the flowing peacock dress. I have
to give it to her, it
i
sn’t for me, but Quinn, with her olive skin, look
s
great in it.

“Well?” Quinn asks.

“Perfect,” Tess and I say together. Quinn jumps up and down, clapping enthusiastically.

Shopping has never been that easy for me. Everything I buy has to be altered to fit my small frame, and it makes trying things on difficult because it’s hard to imagine what it will look like when it’s “fixed.” I always end up feeling guilty for dragging Quinn and Tess to store after store.

“You mind if we stop in here?” Tessa asks. I glance up at the sign above the store. It’s a chain lingerie shop.

“Tess, you dirty, dirty girl,” Quinn jokes.

“Shut up, Quinn. I need something to wear under this dress. Did you see the crazy neckline?” Tess says.

Quinn rolls her eyes and marches inside.

I find a bench near the fitting rooms to rest while I wait for the girls to browse. My neck aches. My head hurts. Actually, everything sort of hurts.

“Isn’t this cute?” Quinn says, walking toward me with a tiny-black-satin-something or other.

“Uh, I guess? What’s the occasion?” I ask.

“Not for me, for you!” she says.

I laugh and feel my prudish nerves kick in.

“Not exactly
my thing, Quinn.” I say. She kno
w
s
good and well that I would never be caught dead in something like that. I sleep in pajama pants and a tank top, every single night.

Quinn clucks her tongue. “For the lake house.”

“Oh!” The blush
i
s definitely in full force now. “I don’t think so. That’s not me. Trevor knows that.”

“Fine, but it’s only your first time once,” she says. “And it’s not his, so…” She turns and crams the flimsy garment onto a
full rack. So, she’s right. It’
s going to be my first time. And I
do
want every
thing to be perfect. But there’
s no way I’m going to be any less nervous about everything if I’m strutting around in a black negligee. Even if it might be a welcome change for Trevor to see.

I wipe my nervous, sweaty palms onto my dress. It’s not like I’
m
going to be doing anything I d
o
n’t want to do. Trevor and I ha
ve
been together for a long time, and he ha
s
n’t forced the issue, but I
’m
clueless about what to expect. Up until now, we’d only had some heated make-out sessions. He’
s
always been patient with me, but he
’
s
about to graduate, and go away to college, and I kn
o
w I want one of our last
night’s
together to be the biggest of all.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Tessa says, stepping out of the dressing room.

“Let’s just call it a day, guys, I’m beat and we’ve been everywhere,” I say after Tess has pa
ys
and we’ve left the store.

As the words are leaving my mouth, I see it.

The strapless, electric blue mini-dress
that’s
meant for me in the window. The bubble hem is perfect for my height, and the frosted blue sequins that completely cover the dress are one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Best of all, it doesn’t even need to be altered.

The shopping trip must have gotten to me more than I’d originally thought. We didn’t get in late, it was barely dark, but I immediately went upstairs and
went
to bed. I slept hard, all night long. Nightmare free.

I probably would have slept all day if I hadn’t felt something lightly breezing across my face.

I tr
y
to open my eyes, but
am
blinded by the sunlight streaming in.

Sunlight? I quickly sho
o
t up in bed.

How long ha
ve
I been sleeping?

What day is it?

Did I miss gym?

I hear a deep chuckle and turn to see Trevor sitting next to me on my bed.

“What in the world?” I ask. I blink repeatedly to ensure that I’m really awake.

“Good morning to you, too, Sleeping Beauty,” he says. It’s more than a little strange to see him in my room. He’s only made it past my dad and up here a couple of times.

“What time is it?” I grumble.

I love Trevor, but I have rules about talking when I first wake up. Like waiting an hour to swim after eating,
I
appreciate if no one sp
eaks
to me for the thirty minutes that I’m awake.

“A little past noon,” he says. “Your dad let me in on his way out. He’s taking Maisy to Savannah for the day.”

Nice.
She told me she had plans this weekend. I would have gone with them if she mentioned that her plans were with dad. Whatever.

“Oh,” I say. “How long have you been here?”

He shrugs.

“Not long. A couple of hours. You were sleeping really hard,” he says. He kisses me on the tip of my nose
.

“You really should have woken me,” I say, only half meaning it. Sunday is the only day that I don’t have gym. I assume that’s why Dad didn’t wake me before he left. No one
ever
wakes me for anything on my one day off.  Still, I feel guilty that Trevor has been sitting here watching me sleep for hours. I stretch a
s far as I can in my bed. I feel my joints pop and
for some reason,
I
fe
el
unusually sore. I can’t think of anything I did at gym this week to warrant the extra stiffness.

“Okay,” I say, struggling to sit up. “I’m up, I’ll get dressed, what do you want to do today?”

“Well,” Trevor says, pushing me back down lightly with his index finger. “I think that’s a bad idea.” His smile
is
coy.

“Huh?”

“You getting dressed, is a terrible idea,” he says. He reaches over and pulls me in close to him. His lips are hot on mine, and I love it, but no matter how good it feels, I can’t let the thoughts of dental hygiene evaporate.

“Wait,” I finally manage to pull away and gasp. “I need to brush my teeth, I’m disgusting.”

“No you don’t,” he says, pulling me back toward him. God he smells good.

“Yeah, yeah I do. And besides, my dad could walk in any minute. We can’t do this right now.” I manage to break free and stand beside the bed.

“No he won’t. He’s hours away, Syd,” Trevor says with a confident smile. “Now, why don’t you come back to bed?”

He reaches over and runs his hand up my thigh and I relent and let him pull me back down on top of him. I’m strong, stronger than most guys I know, but not Trevor. The way he kisses me is like physical proof that he wants nothing more than to be with me. It makes me tingle. It makes me unaware of everything going on apart
from Trevor and
me
. Until his hand gently starts fumbling with the tie on my pajama pants, attempting to loosen them. I playfully swat his hand away and jump back up off of the bed.

“Oh come on, Syd,” he groans. “You’re killing me.”

“You’ll survive a little longer,” I say with a light laugh. “I told you, we can’t do this right now.”

“Why?” he asks.

“The lake house.”

“What difference does it make if it’s here now or after prom?”

Good point.

But I’m just not ready at this exact moment. I still haven’t even brushed my teeth. I want it to be special. Not spur of the moment because we happened to be alone. Plus, I need a little more time to get a handle on my nerves. I know I can’t put him off much longer, though.

“Please.
Please
just try to be patient with me a little longer,” I say.

“I’ve been really patient, Syd. You have to admit that. I just want to be with you. I don’t see what the big deal it. Let me make love to you.” His voice transforms into the most velvety smooth sound I’ve ever heard. His words tug at my heart,
and
my resolve.

I’m still standing beside the bed, staring down at him. His hand catches mine.

I take in his long, toned body. His thick blonde hair that makes him look like he should be in a surfing magazine. That ridiculously handsome face. Any girl in the world would be lucky to have him. And somehow, he wants me. Just me.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly “Please just give me a little more time. Please.” I push my lower lip out into the pouty way I know he can’t resist and he lets out a loud sigh of concession and pulls himself upright.

“Fine,” he says. He stands behind me and presses his lips to the back of my neck. “Can’t blame me for trying, though.”

“I love you,” I whisper.

“Love you, too, Syd.”

********

When I wake up Monday morning, I feel like death. My head is pounding and the soreness from Sunday has only intensified. No good. My mom had always said that she wasn’t “allowed” to get sick. That’s how I feel. I don’t have time to be sick.

I stumble my way through my morning work-out until Sam
takes
pity on me and lets me leave thirty minutes early. As soon as I get home, I take a long, hot shower, and while the steam helps to clear the crud out of my head, it doesn’t touch the achiness I feel all over my body. I would give anything to go back to bed, but that’s not in the cards. Before I leave for school, I fumble through the medicine cabinet until I find a package of cold medicine and shove it into my backpack.