Kissing In Cars (17 page)
I haul ass on my bike to Kyoto, which I've already subconsciously categorized as "our place," and my body hums to life when I spot Molly's Jeep already sitting in the parking lot and, shifting down gears, I pull into the parking spot next to her. Through the plexiglass face guard on my motorcycle helmet I can see her head bent, texting behind the wheel. She looks up and smiles just as I remove my headgear and give my head a shake, running my fingers through my still damp hair.
We meet on her side of the Jeep, and childishly I give the small white bow in her hair a tug. "Hey," is my lame greeting.
She rolls her eyes. "Hungry?"
Yes
. Hell- freaking - yes
, I think, wanting to skip dinner entirely to make out; Molly's an amazing kisser, not to mention just thinking about sucking on her neck again is making me hard. I shift uncomfortably as if she can read my debauched mind.
Actually, I don't think she would be shocked, let alone care - I'm sure she's heard worse from that tit-wad brother of hers...
In no time at all we're sliding into a red vinyl booth - the same booth actually where we technically first met - and I'm even hungrier than I was five minutes ago. Not one to shy away from stuffing my face full, I take my fork and twist up a big wad of noodles, not giving them time to cool before shoving them in my mouth.
They're hot as hell, and I panic as I reach for my cup of soda, not wanting to look like a sally.
Too late.
Molly tries smirking at me, but her pert nose slightly scrunches up as she bits back a laugh. "Oh, so you think that's funny?" I ask her while running my tongue back and forth along my teeth to ease the pain on my taste buds.
Maybe she should kiss it and make it better
I can't stop myself from thinking. "I wouldn't be giggling at you if you burnt
your
tongue."
Yes, I'm whining.
Molly thinks about this for a bit before she says thoughtfully, her empty fork suspended in the air "You know, I would pay actual paper money to see you giggle."
"
Paper
money? Wow. I bet you would."
"Yeah, I would."
We stare at each other, and I narrow my eyes before digging into my noodles again. Molly bends her head to twirl a bite onto her fork than holds it up to her lips, blowing air over the top of it to cool it down. I stare at her mouth, shaped into a pert little bow as she does to her dinner what I suddenly want her doing to me - and thank God I don't say this shit out loud.
I'd look like
the
biggest asshole.
The noodles are still steaming hot, and I immediately gulp down another drink of ice cold soda. I let my mouth hang open for a few seconds, opening and closing my jaw to speed along the cooling process.
Molly shakes her head and her lips curls up. "Why do guys always do that?"
"Do what?"
I watch as she rolls her eyes. "Eat scalding hot food that burns their taste buds off."
"You seriously have to ask that?" She stares at me blankly. "Because we're
starving
, that's why."
She shakes her head sadly. "I will never understand guys - that's why I never date."
Okay, now I'm confused
. "Uh...if you don't date, then what is this?" My index finger points back and forth between both our bodies on its own accord as I lazily suck through the straw of my drink. It falls out of my mouth as lift my head to wait for her response.
"I...I... It's just... noodles?"
"So?" I watch as her face gets bright red and in a gesture that I've never seen her execute, she reaches up and twirls the end of her ponytail around her finger and bites down on her lip before looking me directly in the eyes. "Didn't you hear? Noodles are the key to my heart."
Molly only hesitates for a second before groaning. "You did
not
just say that."
"I did. In fact, I was hoping for a more enthusiastic response... so unfortunately for you, I will
not
be making out with you at the end of this date. Or non-date. Whatever." I know I'm stupidly grinning but the look on her face is priceless: her green eyes have gotten huge and now she's gaping at me with her mouth hanging open.
I eat a few forkfuls of vegetables that are mixed in my bowl before slowly speaking the next few words. "You know Molly, you're not at all like I was expecting you to be that day I was checking you out in the library." Still no sound comes out of her, so I continue."You looked so ridiculously cute."
And sexy in that skirt
. "Uh, why are you looking at me like that?"
She shakes her head like she's shaking feathers out. "I'm sorry, I just...I'm surprised, that's all. It's not a bad thing." A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, but she's totally fighting it.
"Can I ask you something?" I push the noodles around in my bowl and watch her from the corner of my eye. She nods as she takes a sip of her water. "What were you thinking about when you looked up?"
She thinks about it before answering. "Do you want me to be honest with you, or should I lie?"
"Well, if you're about to say you had wanted to get naked, than say whatever you want." I wiggle my eyebrows to punctuate my sentence and shoot her one of my toothy megawatt grins that girls go crazy for.
"Well, not exactly. I was a little... freaked out. I mean. It's not like you have this sterling reputation. I thought you were a jerk - or I mean, that's what I heard."
I consider this information. "Huh. Well that sucks. I like my version better."
Finally she throws her head back and laughs. "The naked Molly version? Figures."
"Uh, I bet naked Molly looks incredible. Let's see, if I close my eyes I can almost picture it..." I squint my eyes closed and pretend to be searching for a visual. "Yup.
Oh yeah
, there it is. Nice..."
Molly's laugh is airy and light as she hits my arm. "Knock it off Weston. Stop trying to picture me with no clothes on."
"Fine, but only because there's something I need to ask you. Well, more like tell you..." but I can't finish my sentence because we're interrupted by the sound of a feminine voice calling out, "Hey Wes, what's up?" causing both Molly and I to crane our necks to see two girls from school - I think their names might be Mary and Olivia (but that's just a guess) approaching our table. They're both wearing backpacks and have their cell phones out, so one can assume they're at Kyoto to study. The blonde (Olivia?) has ear buds in and is slightly bobbing her head as she walks towards us.
Now, I'm not sure what possesses people who hardly know me to greet me with such familiarity, but they do, and I'm irritated. So by the time they're done dodging and weaving through the sparsely attended dining room and arrive at our table, my leg is bouncing under the table. Maybe you've already noticed:
this is a habit of mine when I'm annoyed or nervous
.
The girls bounce up to the table - yeah, bounced - the one called Mary (I think) taking the lead. I notice (only because her shirt is too small) that she's got big boobs and she's sticking them out.
Dear god, how obvious can you be?
I shift in my chair knowing this is going to be awkward.
"Hi Wes, how's it going?" Big Boobs Small Shirt is now standing at the corner of our table, eyes trained on me with a huge smile on her face. It's a lot creepy, and I shift my gaze to Molly who is eating noodles with a smirk on her face. Her eyes are crinkled at the corners and I get the feeling that she's secretly laughing at me.
She is going to be no help at all getting these two away from me.
"It's going fine," I give the girl a vague answer, hoping if I'm curt enough she'll leave.
"Gosh, do you eat here a lot?" Like I'm going to walk into that trap by answering
that
question. So instead, I grunt and say nothing.
"I saw your bike outside. Are you going to ride it home in this rain?" the other girl asks, playing with the strap on her backpack. She's mousy and it's quite obvious she's Big Boobs 'Yes' girl - you know - everyone has that one friend that goes along with everything they say. Always fading into the background, never stealing the spotlight for themselves.
"It's raining?" Molly breaks in.
"Yeah. Just started. Just a drizzle though." How did I not know it was going to rain?
"If you need a ride home Wes, my mom borrowed me her car," Big Boobs Small Shirt says with hope in her voice, again using my first name like she knows me.
I snort. "Yeah, like I want to climb into your mom's mini-van when my date here has a perfectly good Jeep."
There.
That ought to give them a hint. To really amp up the jerk factor and to be a bigger prick, I stuff my face with a fork full of food and chew with my mouth open. It's pretty revolting if I do say so myself.
I can't force myself look at Molly.
She's got to be totally disgusted with me right now.
"This is a date? Like, you're on a date?" Big Boobs sidekick asks.
"That's what I said isn't it?"
"So. Do you date other people, or just her?"
"Um, excuse me - 'her' is sitting right here and she has a name..." Molly says, the irritation in her voice palpable.
"Just her." I grind out.
"Oh." Big Boobs sounds crestfallen, and her shoulders slump. She starts biting her lip, oblivious to the fact that her trusty sidekick keeps clearing her throat behind her. Then a thought must occur to her, because she perks up again. "So are you taking her to Fall Formal?"
Okay, now I'm one hundred percent pissed off. My dating status is none of their fucking business, and I'm suddenly furious they're asking me these questions in front of Molly. If we were out on the ice, I'd take Big Boobs Small Shirt by the facemask and lay her out flat on the ice. However, my only recourse is to calmly lay down my fork and clasp my hands in front of me on the table. I can feel my nostrils flaring. "Uh,
no
, I'm
not
taking her to Fall Formal, not that it's any of your business. You might not know this, but I don't have time for that kind of kiddie bullshit." I pause. "Now, are you done interrogating me, or should we wait until my food is completely cold before you walk away?"
And
that
ladies and gentleman, is how I got my reputation as a complete asshole.
MOLLY
"The last time I condoned 'the wet look' was when I was five. And even then it was hideous." - Tasha
There are moments in your life where sometimes you just want to crawl under the table and hide.
This, ladies and gentleman, is one of those moments.
Weston sits across the table from me, watching Mary Rogers and her best friend Olivia shrink away to their own table. If they had a massive crush on him before, he sure went and ruined it with his ugly tirade. I'll admit it: even though the words weren't directed at me, they were
about
me and they hurt.
Did I want to go to Fall Formal?
Not really.
I mean, we've covered this topic before. However - not wanting to go, and having the guy you like completely repulsed by the idea of taking you?
Um
yeah
, two totally different things.
Now I'm faced with the question: how do I react to all this? There he sits, his face finally going back to its normal color after being beat red, totally ignorant of my hurt feelings.
I push some rice around my plate with a knife, having completely lost my appetite. Quietly I say, "
Wow
. You really are an asshole."
Weston looks up at me from his plate, surprised. "What did I do?" I tap the knife on the table before setting it down; my stomach feels like it has been twisted in a thousand little knots. Weston's brow furrows and he asks again "What? Molly..."
I bite my lip, uncertainty fueling my next move. Awkwardly, I grasp for my jacket, at the same time grabbing my purse. Weston reacts stealthily, reaching across the table in a futile attempt to stop me. "What are you doing?" The low timbre of his confused voice almost has me hesitating as it vibrates and warms my core, but I've gone this far already and I'm not stopping until I'm in the parking lot.
Are guys really so stupid?
Does he really not know what he said to upset me?
I weave my way through Kyoto, sights set on the door. It's getting dark out, and the visibility in the parking lot is terrible; the rain that's pouring down outside makes it almost impossible to see my Jeep from the door.
Good
.
It would serve that A-hole right having to hitch a ride with Mary Rogers, who apparently got dressed in the dark this morning and couldn't find anything but a toddler's tee shirt to cover her giant boobs.
Or better yet, maybe he can call that jackass Rick Stevens to come pick him up.
You know what they say: One giant jackass deserves another (actually, I just made that up, but it fits, don't you think?).
I shrug into my jacket, thankful that it has a hood, and continue standing in the doorway of the restaurant watching the rain come down in sheets. In the distance lightning flashes, and my hand grips the door handle. It's coming down so hard I have to psych myself and count to three before I can make myself push the door open. Then, just as I'm about to give the door a shove, a large, warm hand covers my shoulder.
Of course I know who it is: I don't even bother turning around.
"Can we talk about this?" His voice is inches from my ear. "Please. Let's go sit down."
But I am too embarrassed and hurt to go back into the dining room. "Weston, just let me leave. You really... that was..." I shake my head and stare into the parking lot.
"Fine. Then let's go out to your car." He shoves the door open with the toe of his boot and envelopes my hand in his, pulling me unceremoniously out into the pouring rain.
"SHIT SHIT SHIT
!"
I screech as we run to my car, water pelting our faces and splashing under our feet. Vainly, I thank god my hood is up and that my hair is staying dry. It's gotten cold, and I can feel my shoes and pant legs getting soaked.
"Keys!" he shouts when we get to the Jeep. I fumble in my pocket, finally slapping them in his outstretched palm. Several seconds later, he's opening the driver's seat and ushering me inside before jogging around to the passenger side.
