Authors: Katie Keller-Nieman
“Oh! You lose!” Eric declared. “Come on, somebody’s gotta take me down! Anybody?!”
A guy stepped forward. He was huge. Eric’s height, but at least twice his weight, and in need of two chairs for his lard-filled pants. He could definitely out-drink Eric.
“How many are you up to?” the fat guy asked.
He was completely sober and Eric was drunk, which is why I almost died when Eric said, “No way, clean slate, dude. Man, I could shit you.”
Shit you?
That made no sense at all. I had to stop this. Health class had taught me that people could drink themselves to death. I would not be responsible for letting Eric die. I pushed over someone to get to the front and squeezed through the last group. Without thinking, I grabbed Eric’s arm. Heat swept over my face as I touched him for the first time. He looked at me, eyes bleary and unfocused. He took a casual swig from a plastic cup next to the shots on the table.
“Sandy, sweetie. Want a front row seat to the drink of the year?” He put his arm around my thin waist and pulled me close to his body. More than close. I was on his lap. Fire blazed through my body. “Alright baby, here we go!” He sucked down the shot in front of him. “Oh, that good stuff.”
“Stop it, Eric. Come on, we’re going.”
“Game just started! I can take you on next, but I’ll go easy on ya, don’t worry.”
I wanted nothing more than to stay on his lap, reveling in the heat coming off his body, but this wasn’t about me. “We have to go, now. Come on.”
He took another swig from his cup. How was he still breathing? I stood up and tugged on his wrist. There was no way I was letting go, no way I was leaving without him, no way I was letting him get “screwed all night.” Especially not by that guy.
“We’re going now.” I yanked him to his feet and took the cup out of his hand, then led him out through the tight crowd. I pulled him by the arm all the way down the hall to the door to his room.
“You’re going in there,” I told him.
He looked at me through glassy eyes, obviously not understanding. “By myself?”
“It’s
your
room.”
“Why don’t you want me to have fun? You wan’ me to veg by myself when I could party?”
He looked so serious, as if I was crushing his world, locking him in a prison cell for no reason.
Maybe I should convince him.
“Sober mind to one that’s not, I think the party was starting to die out. We left just in time so we’re still the cool ones, not the last stragglers. Okay? I’ll explain more after you’ve slept.”
He thought for a moment, then he flashed me a devilish grin. “Come in and hang out.” He pulled me through the door so quickly I didn’t have a chance to protest.
His room was stark in its contrast. One half was spotless and organized, but that was apparently not Eric’s side. His half was a mess, the small amount of floor space taken up by sketchbooks and clothes folded into piles. His bed was pushed all the way into the corner, with his dresser next to his bed on the other side. Hanging on the wall was a shooting target. It was one of those human silhouette ones and it had holes pierced through the head and heart. He really did know how to use a gun. Despite the stories he had told me, it was still unexpected. His desk was crammed in at the end of his bed. Instead of being covered with books, as mine was, the surface was taken up by his large TV. Eric flopped down on his navy blue bedspread and snatched the TV remote from the floor. “You like TV?”
He looked up at me with a goofy grin plastered to his face. I had never been in his room before, or in any guy’s bedroom before. I wasn’t sure what the rules were. I had been standing awkwardly by the half-shut door, pondering my place and wondering if I seemed stupid.
“Come on, sit down. We can watch infomercials,” he laughed.
I looked for a chair. The stool by his desk was buried in clothes and notebooks. Eric’s hand patted the bed beside him. I cautiously sat down next to his reclining body. It felt strange to be so alone with him. In his room. On his bed.
Eric clicked on the TV, then hopped off the bed, nearly kicking me in the process. He pulled off his t-shirt, revealing his bare back to me. I almost had a heart attack. He wasn’t slim like I had always thought. His clothing had deceived me. He was muscular. His back was all rippling muscles and when he turned, his abs formed a perfect six-pack. He stretched his back out as usual, but it was much more sexual without the shirt. I had seen him stretch many times. I never imagined it could be more amazing, yet it was.
I turned my eyes away, hoping he hadn’t seen me gawking. The next thing I knew, he was resuming his position on his bed. I stole a glance at him and found he was now wearing a black muscle tank. He caught my gaze. I had to say something. “You changed.”
Great choice of words, moron.
“Yeah, the AC here is whack. Too hot or too cold always. See anything you like?”
“What?”
Oh no…
“The TV. It’s always boring of this time for night.” His slip of speech reminded me that he was drunk. I had almost forgotten. He lay back and rested his head on his pillow. Some stupid old show was droning on from the television. I could still hear the party’s music lightly thumping from down the corridor. Eric sighed and I dared not face him.
“Did you like the party?” he asked.
“Um…
yeah.”
Not.
Actually I couldn’t be sure. It needed time to sink in. Maybe I would know tomorrow.
“Yeah, it was fun,” he said.
“Oh, really?” As a last ditch effort to change the awkward feeling I had, I decided to tease him. “I thought you said parties were stupid?”
“I didn’t mean it. Aworwa doesn’t let me go. Says I got no control.”
Aurora…
“I like parties.”
He sounded so cute, even through his drunken slur. “Me too.”
Eric sat up and turned the TV channel to “I Love Lucy,” then smiled at me. “I Love Lucy. Good stuff. Hey, relax, me su casa. Put your feet up, chill.”
I did. It was easier than trying to tell him I was too nervous to sit cross-legged on his bed.
“Yur funny,” he laughed, then bit his lip, as if he was nervous, or something else… “I don’t think you know that. You got good qualities.”
Suddenly I was so embarrassed. I felt like I could cry, though I didn’t know exactly why. “No, I don’t.”
Why did I just say that? Why did I tell him what I was so afraid that he might find out? Now he knew that I thought I wasn’t worthy. Now, I had helped him realize that I wasn’t. I wasn’t worthy of much of anything.
Eric shifted his body weight and looked intently at me. I dared not glance at him, just stared at the TV, but I could feel his eyes watching me.
“You have lots of good. You’re smart. You’re funny… and beautiful.” Did he really just say that? Was I dreaming? Was it real? “So beautiful…” he said as I felt his fingers brush against my face, causing my heart to skip a beat.
I glanced over at him, just as the bridge of his nose brushed against my cheek, ever so gently. I felt a harsh fluttering in my stomach. My body went hot all over. My fingers numbed as I wondered what was happening between us.
Eric’s lips swept over mine, sending a tingling sensation all the way down my spine, spreading through my body. Then he pulled his perfect mouth back and leaned his forehead into mine. His short bangs tickled my forehead. I could feel the heat of that kiss through my entire body. I didn’t know what to do. My body had ceased to function, and my heart pounded in my chest. My mind had turned to pudding and still he stayed. I looked helplessly into his eyes. They seemed so soft, so inviting. He swept his hand from my jaw, to the back of my neck. This time, when our lips met, my body came to life. My hand brushed against his waist, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body radiating through its fibers. His other hand left the mattress and met my back, pressing my body closer to his. I felt myself melting at his touch. Butterflies rushed from my stomach to my heart, and then through my arms to the tips of each of my fingers. I wanted more, but…
This wasn’t right. I pulled back slowly from his tender kiss. Blood rushed to my brain. I felt dizzy, as though I was balancing on a cloud in a storm. I fisted the cloth of his shirt in my hand and focused on the dark weave.
Now I could think more clearly. I had brought Eric to the party to break up Aurora and his relationship, but I had never meant to hurt her. She didn’t deserve Eric, but I hadn’t meant to…
She didn’t deserve to be hurt by a friend. Especially not this friend, her lifelong friend, her best friend.
“Eric, I have to go. This was wrong.” I cast down my eyes as I left his room, feeling utterly ashamed. I had put my trust in silly visions and not in reality.
Aurora and I have our differences, but this can only lead to ruin.
1204
I sat on the doorstep of my house, waiting, as always, for my love. I knew his travel schedule perfectly, and he knew that I would be waiting for him. Any minute now Eric would walk down the beaten path, leading his pony and cart to the armory. He did this once a month, my only chance to see him. All the other days, he would toil with metal in the shop under his master’s watchful eye and command. He would work his hands stiff. He had no chance for romance on those days. His master would never permit it.
So there I sat with a basket in hand, awaiting the arrival of the man I desired more than anything or anyone. I awaited the chance to gaze into his perfect eyes and share a swift meal with him. These were the days I longed for. When we would share loving moments together and wish it would never end.
I saw his figure emerging from the dust in the distance. A sandy shadow of a boy, horse, and cart. I stood and hurried down the road to greet him. He trudged ahead, face down, leading the horse after him. I called out his name and he slowly raised his head at the sound of my voice. I stared, horrified at the large gash that cut down his left cheek. His torn flesh was raw and crusted over with dirt and sweat. Parts of it still bled and the blood was smeared thinly over his face.
“What happened?” I asked as he hugged my body tightly against his chest, as he always did.
“I was disrespectful. I deserve this.”
“No, no one deserves to be whipped. No matter what they’ve done,” I told Eric.
He laughed. “Understand that you are the only person in this world who believes that.”
“Then I stand alone, tall and proud.”
“Hardly tall,” he teased with a grin, but he winced from the pain it caused.
“Come, now,” I told him, tugging at his arm. “We must clean that out before it festers.”
“I can’t. A battle is brewing in the east. The armory has been cleaned out. I tow this lot to the king. It’s much farther and I must be prompt.”
“Surely you have a moment,” I said as I ran ahead, stumbling into my house. I emerged from the structure with a bowl containing water and a cloth and hurried to return to his place on the dusty road. Gently, I began to clean his face as we walked side by side,
followed by a horse and a cart.
CHAPTER 7
HEART TO HEART
I sat on my bed trying to forget my last dream, as well as the night before, when Eric kissed me. I felt so lost and alone. It was early afternoon and so far I had accomplished avoiding everyone. I simply stayed in my room, door shut and locked. A knock came and I ignored it. There was no reason to answer. It came again.
“Sandy? Are you in there?”
It was Eric. I should answer. I needed to set him straight before he had time to think about last night. The kiss was so short, maybe it had slipped his mind. I heard alcohol could make you forgetful. I opened the door and guarded the opening.
“Hi, Eric. Sleep well?” I asked, trying to act completely normal.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
I sighed deeply as I stepped out of his way. He walked in, holding my books under his arm. I had left so quickly that I had forgotten they were even in his room. He was wearing the same clothes from last night. They were wrinkled, but I couldn’t help but notice that he still looked good. Although, his eyes were bloodshot and tired looking.
“How’s your head,” I asked as he cautiously sat on my floor. I joined him.
“Pounding. Listen, Sandra, I don’t want to sound weird, okay? But I have to ask you. Did anything…happen between us last night?”
“What? No.”
“I-I could swear we kissed.” He looked distressed and the crack of his voice proved it.
I tried to look shocked. “What? That’s crazy,” I said, acting amused. “We never kissed.”
I could tell before I finished that he didn’t believe me. He looked at me as though I had just proved that he was right. He could see right through my masquerade. He knew, and I had made things worse.
“We did?” he asked.
“No, no, not at all. Not even close.” I begged him to believe me, but it was hopeless.
“How could we have kissed?” He clenched his jaw as he stared imploringly at me. “How?”
I took offense to his severe expression and lack of faith in me. “Well, technically,
you
kissed
me
. I didn’t do anything wrong,” I snapped. Then I looked away, ashamed that I had tossed all of the blame on his shoulders.