Falling - On the Banks of Lake Saint Clare (Falling - Book One) (15 page)

“We have to stop,” I whispered, his hand still moving softly across my back, his lips against mine again. “I hear your parents. I don’t want them to hate me.”

He rolled over on his back and put his hands under his head and looked at the ceiling.

“I don’t want them to walk in on us in your bed kissing,” I explained.

He closed his eyes. I watched his chest was moving up and down rapidly.

“I didn’t want to stop,” I explained. I didn’t know what to say. I thought he was perhaps mad that I stopped him. I just wasn’t ready and it wasn’t a good time.

“It’s good,” he took my hand and kissed it. I could see his breathing had slowed down and his chest wasn’t moving as fast as before.

“You turn me on so much,” I explained. “I just wouldn’t have been able to stop you if I hadn’t right then. I bet supper is just about ready also.” I didn’t know why I was defending myself. If I’m not ready, I’m not ready and he shouldn’t be angry. But I was worried he was.

I climbed on top of him and straddled his hips, looking down at his shiny chest. “Are you mad?” I asked scared of the answer.

He pulled me forward and had me lay on him, holding my face in his hands.

“Of course I’m not mad. I was concentrating on other things because I didn’t want to go out to the dinner table in total arousal for the entire world to see, but you climbing on top of me ruined that,” he smiled
.

“Oops! Sorry.”

Chapter
9

What’s this?” I asked, walking into
Abbie
’s room, after Michael dropped me off.

All three girls
jumped like I had ca
ught them doing something nasty.

I looked down and saw poster boards and papers with my name on them. The longer I looked the more nervous they acted.

The biggest poster board was like a family tree or a pyramid from a workplace. No one moved, but just sat on the floor watching me. I glanced up and there was another poster board similar to the pyramid on the wall. I then looked beside
Kaitlyn
and saw she had a laser pointer. I sat down on the bed and tried to see what it meant. Still
,
they didn’t say a word. There were 8x10 pictures scattered all over the place with post-its of letters and numbers attac
h
ed to them.

“First of all,” I finally said, “I’m not upset. You all can stop acting like I just caught you in an orgy. Who wants to explain it?”

“Ok,”
Kaitlyn
jumped up with the laser pointer, pointing at my name on the poster board
that was on the
wall. “Mind you, Alex,” she held up one finger, “
t
his is all pretty rough, but we have been working on it all evening,” she boasted.

“
No
Dairy Lane
?”

“No time
,
” she said. “We got into this and didn’t make it.”

“Wow,” I gasped, “I was feeling
guilty
because we never made it. I could have lied and said we were there waiting on you. “What is all this?”

“Here’s you,”
Kaitlyn
explained, “And here is everyone that was at the party in order of arrival.”

“And how did we figure the time of arrival you ask?” Erica
asked
like she was in a crime drama TV show.

“I don’t recall asking, but I am guessing
Abbie
’s paranoid Dad’s security camera at the front door, side of the house
,
and pool area?”

Erica threw a pillow at me, “It took us an hour to think of looking at the camera.”

I’ll never forget the day the cameras were installed. For months
Abbie
’s dad thought the neighbors were sneaking over at night and rearranging the lawn chairs. It wasn’t that they were being moved from one end of the yard to the other. We are talking an inch to the right or left every night. You could hear him every morning yelling, “Stay away from my lawn chairs!” And every morning he would be out in the yard in his boxers and a yardstick measuring the distance between all the chairs. So the high tech security cameras were installed, which was the talk of the block. We were guessing the camera system cost more than the lawn chairs and both cars put together. We sat in the “evidence” lawn chairs watching the security guys drilling holes, leveling, and drilling more holes.

“That guy is hotter than hell,” Erica sighed.

“The one with the white crack we’ve been forced to look at for two hours?”

“Haha,” she laughed annoyed
. “Look at his tight jeans. Mmm
.”
             
Abbie
walked back out with four glasses of tea and handed them to us.

“Your dad,” Erica said, reaching for her glass “has gone mad with Syphilis.”

I laughed, knowing she had just heard that from a show we watched.

“You think?”
S
he asked concerned. “Hey!”
S
he added, “I heard my parents talking about him getting a vasectomy. What is that
?”
             
“
Sex change,” Erica said instantly.

“For real?”
Abbie
asked sounding concerned.
             
“Yep. Google it.”

I laid back and closed my eyes, trying to get just a little sun so I didn’t look so pale during the summer. I couldn’t help but smile at the conversation.

“Oh, I got it,” Erica said, looking at her phone. “Vasectomy;
t
he modification of a person's biological sex characteristics, by surgery and hormone treatment, to approximate those of the opposite sex,” she lied.

I glanced over at
Abbie
. Her face was blank and I could tell she was thinking
,
“what will the town think of this one?”

“You think the camera thing has the neighbors talking,” Erica teased, “What about when Stan walks out with size D’s and pink pumps.”

I couldn’t put
Abbie
through any more torture, “You
r
dad is getting neutered,” I said.

“Gross!” She and
Kaitlyn
said in unison.

“The sex change is easier to accept?” I laughed.

“What would be the reason for it?”
Abbie
asked.

Erica took a drink of her tea, “So Stan doesn’t have to wrap it up anymore, although I would suggest it to your mom anyway since he’s diseased.”

“Would you stop it,” I laughed.

57 pickup lines from Erica to the hot electrician and eight hours later the cameras were installed.
Abbie
’s dad strutted around the house thinking he had just single handedly won the civil war.

“This is when Brad arrived,”
Kaitlyn
said,
still explaining the chart. “This is him walking by at
6:15
and then he walks back by at
7:22
. Now we have exhibit D, she held up a picture of Brad with a drink and in the other hand his fist is closed, (which they had circled and had a post it exhibit D). “He walks out of camera view, looks like he was heading in your direction because you pretty much were in the same area the entire time. Now look,” she pointed at the next picture on the floor, exhibit E, he still has the drink
,
but look at his fist, it’s not closed any longer.”

“Are you ready to call the sheriff over and show him your findings?” I teased.

“Wait,” she continued, “There was this guy that came with Travis,” she laid down a picture
marked
exhibit 82.

I sighed knowing that they had gone through the entire alphabet and were into numbers and all the way to 82. “Keep going,” I said, lying on the bed, “I’m listening.”

I heard her ramble on,
Abbie
interrupting key points in the investigation and then they would stop and argue about how and why they couldn’t be a suspect.

I wanted to tell them that the sheriff had already told my parents that unless someone bragged about it or slipped and told someone we probably would never find out. He also added that it’s hard for teenagers to not brag about something they did, even if it was illegal, but we would probably have to just wait.

I half listened while they played
CSI
,
thinking about the evening with Michael. We ate dinner with his parents and Derek. I laughed more than I ever had in my entire life. Michael and Derek were like a standup comedy act.

Michael’s dad egged them on more and more. “Tell her the story,” he would say immediately after they finished the last one.

After dinner, Michael and I went out and sat on the edge of the pool watching the stars. “You want to swim,” he asked, rolling up the bottoms of his jeans.

“Naw, unless you do.”

“Well, I’d love to see you in a swimsuit but I don’t think I have one that fits you. I’m a b cup,” he added looking at my breast.

“So you are an expert on breast size?” I asked.

He laughed, “Only if I feel them can I get a good reading.”

My heart instantly started pounding.

“But that would be gross,” he added and winked. He lay back putting his hands behind his head and looked at the stars.

I moved over beside him, using his arm as a pillow, my finger traced the muscle lines across his chest. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I asked quietly.

“A ballerina or a princess,” he smiled.

I poked him in the rib, “Really,” I laughed.

“I’d love to play pro basketball. Just don’t know if I am good enough.”

“I hear you are.”

“What have you heard?” He asked still looking at the sky.

“My dad showed me that you are the
second
highest ranked high school player in the nation. Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I wasn’t aware I was.”

“How can you not know,” I smiled. “It’s on ESPN website. There is a whole profile of you.”

“H
m
m, I wasn’t aware of this,” he repeated.

“You are a liar,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. I sat up and looked down at him. “What if you get drafted out of high school? If you are
second
while a junior, you will be first next year.”

“Not necessarily.”

“How can you not be?” I argued.

He shrugged. “I’m not worried about what
I
rank. I just want to get accepted to a college.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing that he had already been offered a full ride basketball scholarship to 17 major colleges. “Why do you not want to talk about this with me? I think it is so exciting.”

“I don’t like to sound conceited.”

“It’s not conceit. It’s an accomplishment most never achieve. I just thought it was something you would like to share with me. It’s what you work for everyday of your life. I just figured since I am your girlfriend that you would want to share the most important thing you do with me. I can’t play ball with you but I would love to be by your side while you fulfill your dreams and know what you’re feeling when there is great news. I want to hear them from you, not a website.”

He sat up and looked at me. “You’re right. I’d love to share it with you.” He put his hand on my knee. I watched the water run through my toes as I lifted them and put them back in the pool. “It’s just really not registering yet. I have had scouts already coming to the house this year. It’s like a war to see who can be the nicest and offer me more deals. It’s really too overwhelming.”

“You need to take U of A,” I said, knowing it was one of the schools that offered.

“Why?” he asked. “They suck right now.”

“But that can change if you go there. I’m selfish by thinking its close enough for me to drive. But am I wrong to assume we will be together then? Why am I all of a sudden worried that you are going to go to
Kentucky
? I am sure it would be your top pick but is a million miles away.”

He kissed my hand. “
Kansas
is 4 hours away. Will that be doable?”

“I get to decide?” I smiled. “But chances are you will get drafted.”

“Yeah right,” he splashed me with his foot.

I looked at him and wondered if he really thought he didn’t have a chance going through the draft. I knew enough about
p
rofessional basketball that most teams would jump at a chance to get a player like Michael right out of
h
igh school.

“It’s time to wrap up,”
Abbie
said, bringing me back to reality. I hadn’t even realized they had tag teamed the lecture
.
“It was either Brad, this dude that has no name
that looks exactly like M
atthew
M
cconaughey
or Gabriel.