Double Time (5 page)

For the next hour, Travis and I read our textbooks and copy terms and definitions from the first four chapters. Not exactly rocket science, but just as difficult when you can’t talk or look at the person next to you that you’ve been dying to talk to for days. Mr. Erickson made it very clear he didn’t want to catch us even glancing at each other or we’d be here tomorrow for another hour of detention. Once is bad enough.

“
Time’s up. You may go.”

“
What do you want us to do with the terms?” Travis asks.

“
You can keep them or trash them. We’re not using that textbook this year.”

Travis’s nostrils flare. “That’s fucked up,” he mumbles under his breath.

“
What was that, young man?”

“
He said ‘that was … fun,’” I blurt out.

Five

Travis plows through the door as we make our way outside. If I wasn’t so interested in having some time to talk to him, I’d be pissed about having detention too. But I’d kind of just like to have my friend back.

“
You don’t have to walk with me if you don’t want to,” I tell him as we cross the street, leaving campus.

“
If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t,” he says, which is so true. He never does anything he doesn’t want to.

“
Wanna come over?” I ask.

“
Yeah, why not? I miss your mom. It seems like forever since I seen her last.” He rests his hand on the back of my neck as we walk and the gesture makes me tingle all over. Sparks fly through my body in all directions.

Oh god, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. “She won’t be home until late. She has Bunco tonight with the Blockheads.”

Travis shakes his head. “She’s too funny.”

“
Tell me about it. It took her an hour last night just to pick out which Danny shirt she was going to wear.”

“
Well, at least it makes her happy, right?”

“
I guess.” I steal a glance at him and our eyes meet. He smiles. “So it’s just me. Do you still want to come over?”

“
Umm. I don’t know now. Let me think about it.”

I elbow him in the side, laughing. He pulls me in for a side hug and places a kiss on the top of my head. I wrap my arm around his side and rest my head against his shoulder as we walk the rest of the way home.

We toss our bags in the living room and go to the kitchen for something to drink.

Within seconds of removing my vest, Travis exclaims, “What did you do to your shirt?”

“
I made it into a tank top.”

“
What happened to the sides?” he asks, poking his fingers through the holes in the material.

“
I thought I’d put some slits in, but it got to be a little too…revealing. That’s why I wore the vest.”

He brushes his fingertips against my bare skin peeking through the openings. “I like it.”

“
I bet you do,” I tell him, trying to steady my breathing as his touch brands my flesh. Oh shit, we’re going past the buddy stage. Again. “I can’t believe we wore the same thing today.” I have to say something to change the subject. I open the fridge, distancing myself from him. “Want a Coke or water?”

“
Cold, cold, water.” He leans against the counter and I look him up and down, and want to pounce on him like a mountain lion on a fresh piece of meat.

“
Yeah, I could use some cold water too.” Or a cold shower. Ice cold shower.

“
Maybe I should tell you what I’m wearing tomorrow so you don’t bite my outfit again,” he says.

“
Me? I didn’t bite anything off you. I’m the one who saw this shirt first. You wouldn’t have even bought it if it wasn’t for me.”

“
Bullshit. You didn’t even know who Run DMC was until I made you that playlist.”

“
So,” I yell at him, sounding like a four year old. “You totally did this on purpose. You knew I’d wear this today. Let me know the next time you plan on wearing it so we don’t have a repeat, okay?”

“
Oh, you won’t have to worry about that,” he yells back. He puts his hand over the back of his neck and yanks the shirt off in one swift move. “Here, you can have it. I don’t need the memories.” He tosses the shirt at me.

“
Fine,” I shout. “But I don’t want the memories either.” I yank my shirt off and throw it on the floor. Take that.

We both stare at each other. Breathing fast and hard, I look up and down his bronze chest, golden happy trail, and the shape of his V leading my eyes like a flashing arrow to the bulge pulsing through his shorts. Wow. My eyes catch his, gazing at my chest. I look down and notice my cleavage plumping out of the top of my black miracle bra which has definitely performed some kind of awakening in Travis.

In a split second, Travis closes the distance between us and his lips crush against mine. His soft skin beneath the palms of my hands is hot and moist, as his tongue pushes into my mouth. I love his kisses. Our lips seal together and our tongues slide past each other in slow, deep pulses. He pulls me closer, pressing my chest to his, and I realize this is all new to me. I’ve never been this undressed with a boy before. And I’ve never been kissed like this. My mind is cloudy with lust and if he threw me on my kitchen counter right now and tore my clothes off, I wouldn’t stop him. It’s that good.

Travis’s hands travel up and down my body, and then I feel one of his palms down the back of my shorts cupping my bare ass and he draws me toward him again. Oh shit. This is too good. Wait, I said that already. But it really is.

I peel my lips away from his with a whimper.

Travis pats my ass and mutters, “We should stop.”

Squeezing him tight, I sprinkle gentle kisses on his warm chest. “Yeah, probably.”

I feel his lips press against my forehead, and then he bends down to pick up our clothes.

He hands me my shirt and we both get dressed.

“
You know, we really did look cute today,” I tell him. “
If
we were a couple.”

“
But we’re not,” he reminds me.

“
I know.”

He runs his hand through his hair, messing up his gel. “What are we doing, Meg?”

“
I don’t know. It’s not like I planned this. I just want us to go back to being friends. I wanted you to come over and hang out like we usually do. Watch movies, talk, play cards.”

“
Yeah, but then it always leads back to this.”

“
Is that so bad? I thought you were enjoying yourself.” I raise my brows at him.

He grins. “I was, but I don’t want to be friends with benefits. I don’t want to come over here and kiss you and then see you with other guys.” His pained expression kills me. “How’s David, by the way?”

“
Not for me. Haven’t talked to him since the pool incident.”

“
Incident? Didn’t look like an incident. Looked like you were having a damn good time.”

“
Looks can be deceiving.”

He tugs on one of my belt loops. “Is that right?”

“
Yeah,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist. “So, what are we gonna do?”

“
Not this. That’s for sure. We can be friends but no more kissing or touching.” I hug him tighter. “I mean it, Meg. And if you’re going out with other people, if I find someone, I’m going for it. I’m not waiting around for you for another year. You’re one of my best friends and I can live with you being just that. I don’t need this,” he squeezes my ass, “to complicate things.”

“
Fine.” I sigh, releasing him. But then I look up at him with a devilish grin. “Should we kiss on it?”

“
Sure.”

We did. We kissed on it. And we haven’t kissed since. It’s been three weeks and while my lips still haven’t recovered from that afternoon, I haven’t wanted to ruin it by jumping back in Travis’s arms. Not that he would let me. He’s put on the friend hat and doesn’t seem to be willing to take it off any time soon. I’m glad he’s strong. I have no willpower whatsoever when it comes to his kisses.

Other than abstaining from making out with my good friend, everything else seems to be business as usual. Tonight is the spirit game. We’ve been making posters all week in class. The boys have been building stuff for the junior float. The freshmen look lost as usual but none of us help them. It’s like a rite of passage. We didn’t get any help our ninth grade year and our float looked like ass. It’s just something we all go through, not that it matters how great we do anyway. The seniors could go out with nothing but a roll of toilet paper thrown around their flatbed trailer and they’d still win. We’ll be there soon enough, so I don’t really care.

All I know is when the junior float makes it around the track at half-time, our class better make some noise. I want to hear screaming, yelling, and stomping on bleacher seats. I want the seniors to know they may have won, but they didn’t deserve it.

At the half, we’re winning 24-0. There’s a new guy on defense who’s totally killing it. I don’t know where he came from but I’m glad we got him. He’s like the high school version of DeMarcus Ware. He flies off the line like a 747 and sacks the quarterback before he can get a chance to set his feet. He can block, tackle, and run. With his skills, we may just have a shot at winning more than one game this season.

Just before we board our float—a flatbed truck decked out with balloons, signs, and three large jail cells that each house a freshman, sophomore, and senior—Josh tries to pump everyone up. We huddle around him while he yells, “One, two, three,” and we yell back, “Junior victory.” Being that he’s CHS royalty, it’s not hard to get our group going. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the other classes joined in. He’s the big baseball star and everyone loves him. Even the guys. You’d think with him being as good as he is, there’d be some haters out there. But no. Josh is way too goofy and easygoing for anyone to dislike him. He looks like Woody from Toy Story all dressed up like a sheriff.

With a western theme, we all look like we just stepped off the farm. Hay litters the floor of the truck, and we dance to Cotton Eyed Joe as the float makes its way onto the football track. The crowd roars when Josh’s voice bellows from the bullhorn, shouting our class chant. We should have had him join ASB a long time ago. Our class is on fire. I’ve never heard them this loud before. We could actually win this thing.

When the seniors come out, we can still hear our group yelling, “Junior victory.” Awesome. We can barely hear the seniors shouting, “Seniors. We Rule.”

Mr. Mitchell takes the mic dressed in chaps, a leather vest, and cowboy hat. “Yeehaw,” he shouts to the masses. Everyone claps and yells back at him. “This may come as a surprise to you all, but this year’s winner of spirit night is the … Juniors.”

And the roars continue. We did it. We finally won.

Six

“
How did I let you guys talk me into this?” Steph asks as we hike up a mountain.

Keesh and I giggle. “What do you mean? How could you say no to strip twister in the cold, dark woods?” I respond.

“
Well, when you put it that way…very easily.”

“
Take a chill pill, Steph, it’ll be okay,” Keesh tells her.

Josh takes her hand. “Just hold on to me. You’ll be fine,” he says, catching her as she slips on a rock.

“
Yeah, just fine,” Travis says, as he passes them.

There have to be about fifty people already gathered around a few tables, coolers, and camp lights when we finally make it to our destination near a barely trickling creek. When Keesh mentioned starting a fire, one of the seniors laughed. Apparently, it creates a smoke signal tipping off the cops that a bunch of teenagers are drinking in the area marked off as “Private Property.” I guess we can do with candles and battery-operated lamps. Sounds much better than getting arrested for trespassing.

Travis and Josh give us some space. We didn’t ask for it this time. Maybe we’re getting used to being just friends. Or not. Licha—Leeeeeeecha—just planted a kiss on his cheek and I want to punch her in her gorgeous face. Doesn’t that girl eat? She probably does Pilates or something. It’s unnatural for a teenager to have a body like that.

“
Meggie,” Steph says, reaching for my arm. “Put your claws back in. Let him have some fun.”

I know. I know. “Why can’t he have fun with an ugly chick?”

We both laugh until we start snorting, and Keesh says, “Who’s the new guy? I haven’t seen him before.”

Steph and I turn to see who she’s gesturing to. I’ve never seen him either but by the look on Steph’s face, she has. “Who is he, Steph?” I ask.

“
He’s on the football team. He’s the guy who won the game for us,” she says with a dreamy smile. She hasn’t taken her eyes off him.