Authors: Kelly Mooney
“What are you looking at?” I bark.
He chuckles, shaking his head, “Nothing.”
“You just looked at my ass. I saw you,” I snap back.
“You shoved it in my face.” He says, grinning. “It was unavoidable,”
My eyes narrow. “Fine.”
“Fine,” he says smirking.
Ugh! I had asked Gabby about him, and she knew he dated a ton of girls, played the guitar in a band, and skateboards for fun. She’s known him for a long time, but he seems to only date blonde bimbos. He also has a little reputation from being in this so called band of his. She isn’t sure if the rumors are true, but she tells me that they like to party, a lot.
I make it halfway through class, feeling his eyes on me the entire time, which is causing my stomach to do flip flops the entire class. I don’t want to look back in his direction. I give in, the temptation is too great. His face too perfect not to. As I glance over my shoulder, he is smiling that gorgeous smile, like he’s waiting for me to respond. Like he’s waiting for me to make the first move, obviously.
“Why do you keep staring?” I finally ask.
“Sorry, just trying to figure you out,” he tells me.
“You’ll be disappointed, trust me,” I say.
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” He smirks.
“You think you’re so cute, don’t you?”
“I think you’re cute!” he whispers, leaning over his chair into my ear.
I don’t know how to answer that one, so I turn my attention back to the lecture and gnaw away at the tip of my pencil. I can’t stop thinking about his comment the entire class. Talk about bold, he thinks I’m cute. Now what? I can’t get involved, I keep telling myself. College is around the corner, and I just want out of this fucking town.
The cafeteria is a constant bore to me. The upside of lunch is that my one and only friend eats at the same time, fifth period. The only other positive is that Cameron is still keeping his eyes on me, and less on Barbie. I know I’m not supposed to want him, but something inside of me kind of does. I constantly catch him staring in my direction, smiling, yet he hasn’t spoken to me since my first week here. Well, until today. It’s probably better. I’m sure I’d just chase him away. He’s really cute, like Abercrombie model cute and he makes it especially hard not to smile back.
The one other bonus to Gabby, is the fact that she doesn’t run to the bathroom throughout the day and puke up whatever she’s eaten earlier. It seems like every time that I walk into the girls room, the Barbie’s are always in there, throwing up. I don’t know if I should report them to the counselors or hold their hair back for them. What kills me is how they can care less about who knows what they’re doing. I can only picture their day; eat breakfast-puke, eat lunch-puke, grope a guy-puke.
I miss home. I’m not saying there wasn’t the occasional bulimic in Savannah, but I swear all the girls here look at it like it’s just another subject in school.
“Gabby, did you want to come over this weekend, do something?” I ask.
“Absolutely!”
We can hear at least three stalls being used, how wonderful? Simultaneous puking. Fabulous! We fix our hair, throw some lip gloss on and run to Spanish.
My locker isn’t behaving at the end of the day. I am so not in the mood for a broken locker. I am fussing with the combination when a hand slams down on the top of my locker, popping it open. I turn quickly, his arm is still leaning up on to the top of it. Cameron is standing in front of me, his hand resting over my shoulder pressed onto the locker.
“Umm, thanks,” I mumble.
“Oh, so you do have manners?” He jokes, while he stares into my eyes.
“Sometimes,” I sass back.
I realize I’m staring, not able to look away. God, he looks good. I turn my back just in time. Stephanie, (aka Barbie) comes flying around the corner, smacking Cameron’s backside. A gesture clearly meant for my eyes.
She tosses her hair, “Hey, Cam. My parents are gone for the night. How about coming over...keeping me company?” She asks.
I can’t watch, I don’t want to watch, but I do.
“Can’t, heading to Max’s for practice.”
I slam my locker shut and walk out the steel doors toward my usual.
Grabbing my cinnamon latte at Starbucks, I head toward home. As I make my way closer to my house, I see a white BMW sitting in my driveway, and am shocked to see who’s getting out of it. Cameron steps out quickly, as I approach.
I am stunned, frozen in time. I feel like I can’t move. How the hell does he know where I live?
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I wanted to ask you something earlier, but you took off.” He says, as he walks closer to me.
I snicker under my breath, waiting for his question. I think I know what’s coming, and I have no idea how I’ll answer. I’m having a hard time breathing as he steps even closer.
Only it’s not a question, his fingers run down my arm to find my hand, I shiver feeling it. It’s not what I expect, I expect a cold rebuff on my part, but instead, I let him wrap his fingers in mine. When he pulls me in, and our stomachs are pressing up against one another, I gasp, looking down.
“What are you doing?”
“The unexpected,” he says, as he lifts my chin.
His lips press against mine, they move in perfect sync with one another, my heart races the entire moment the kiss lasts. I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s only been three weeks and I’m breaking my own rule. I pull away, while raising my right hand and am surprised that I actually slap him across his face. That was the rebuff that crosses my mind, but I never thought I’d do it.
“What the hell’s wrong with you? Why would you do that?” I ask frantically, as my hand connects with his face.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was. I guess...I don’t know what I guessed,” he says, tilting his head slightly to one side. Obviously trying to get a read on me.
“What?”
His face and stance both relax, his smile still smugly sitting on his face. “Kat, you really need to loosen up,” He says, as he tucks the loose strands of my hair behind my ear.
“No, I don’t,” I mumble.
He laughs. “You liked it, I can tell.” He says, as he leans in closer.
I shove my fist into his chest, to stop him. “Did my hand hitting you tell you something that I don’t know?”
“You’re not like any other girl here. I just want to get to know you better.”
“And that’s your way of getting to know somebody? Besides, you don’t want to get to know me, trust me.” I tell him as I’m secretly reliving the feel of his lips on mine.
“Let me be the judge of that.”
He pulls me in closer as his finger tugs at my jeans, his arms wrap around my waist. “Now, where were we?”
“Cameron, I can’t do this and I don’t want to do this. You need to leave...NOW.”
He doesn’t move an inch, he just stands in front of me, grinning from ear to ear. He leaves me no choice. I turn, leaving him speechless on the sidewalk. That was not what I expected or even imagined. I run into my house and right up into my room. I look out my window, he is sitting in his car, not leaving, just sitting. He is right about one thing, I do need to loosen up, I can’t let my mother ruin everything.
I liked the kiss, almost too much, and was afraid of what Gabby had told me. He had plenty of girlfriends in the past, a real lady killer, all the girls want him. She also warned me about Barbie, and that her and her cheerleading friends can make the next few months a living hell for me. My cousin, who is on the cheerleading team, can’t even help me if she wanted to, or her life would be hell too. She is only a junior, she has a full year left, and we have nothing in common.
CAMERON
I am definitely looking forward to History class today. I’ve somehow managed to watch Kat from a distance without her knowing, but in History there is no avoiding it. I am surprised when she hesitates in the front of the classroom. I can tell she is contemplating where to sit. I keep my focus off of her as much as I can and try to focus on my notebook.
I can sense that she wants to sit by me today just as much as I want her to walk to the back and join me. I manage to pretend not to notice or care about that very fact, but when she bends over to pick up her pencil, I can’t help but look. I don’t care. I swear no one ever looked better in a pair of jeans than her. It’s hard to concentrate on anything else, but her. I wasn’t sure if she deliberately dropped her pencil, or if it was by pure luck on my part. Either way, I made out on the deal, the view was brief, but amazing. I didn’t even care about her noticing that I was looking.
Even though I did my best to avoid her for most of January, I can’t resist her anymore. I know I have to make a move, any move, and soon. Guys are starting to notice her, and I mean really notice her. I know that if I don’t act now, I’ll have to get in line, and I’m not sure if I will win.
Her locker is in a completely different wing than mine, so I have to high tail it over after class if I want to catch her. I stop when I see her fumbling to get into it. She looks so small, so helpless for a complete second. I fly over, opening it for her, and in that brief moment when she smiles back. I know I have a chance.
Then it happens, just as I am about to make my move, Stephanie comes up from behind. I can only assume this is merely her way to grab Kat’s attention. I am pissed. Kat walks away, and Stephanie isn’t getting the picture. I’ve avoided her like the plague for the last few weeks, can’t she take a hint? I’m getting tired of coming up with excuses, I need to end it, and end it today.
For now, I can only think of Kat, and what she is thinking, to let her know that Stephanie and I are through, she holds no interest to me anymore, not that she ever really did. I don’t really think about how or what, I just do. I jump in my car and head for Jefferson Avenue. I have Kat’s routine down; Starbucks, sometimes she’ll walk on the Riverwalk, but usually she just heads home. I’d meet her there, catch her of guard. I wait for half-an-hour, before I finally catch a glimpse of her. I would have waited all night if necessary. I can tell by her apprehension to keep moving, I startled her. The need to reach her, to look into her big brown eyes, makes me move at lightning speed. I jump out of my car, meeting her steps. I have every intention of asking her to hang out with me this weekend, but her pouty red lips take me by surprise.
Was it a ballsy move...hell yeah!
I don’t even know why I do it, I lean over and kiss her, tasting the cinnamon that still lingers on her lips from her coffee. I wanted to see how they felt, how she tasted, and even though it was brief, it was the best kiss I have ever had. I’ve kissed plenty of girls in the last few years, but I feel something different the moment I feel them, my head is in a daze, and I just want more of her.
I’m a little surprised when she slaps me across the face, but it was so worth it. The only thing that wasn’t worth it, was her running inside and leaving me alone. She always plays the tough chick role, but somewhere inside of her I know it’s just a front. Anything would have been better than her turning away, and slamming the door. Anything!
The only thing I had hope for now, is that she enjoyed me kissing her, as much as I enjoyed doing it. I guess I’d find out soon enough.
I sit in my car, not sure if I should go ring the doorbell and pull her back outside, or to leave and head to practice. Shit, practice! I had almost forgotten Max was coming over to practice a new song, I know he’ll be there waiting to pounce. I hate leaving, pulling out of her driveway, but I know I have tomorrow, and I plan to make the most of it.
I’m right, Max is already rocking it out in my garage, looking pissed off as I approach.
“Hey, man,” I say.
“Dude, where’ve ya been?” he asks.
I shrug. “I just had something to take care of.” I hesitate trying to change the subject. “What do you got for me?”
He looks me up and down, trying to figure out whatever or wherever I have been. Max knows me very well, and insists I wear my feelings on my shirt sleeve. The downfall of a singer and sometimes half decent song writer. Not that we play any of those songs. We only play other groups music.
“You were with that chick, weren’t you?” he asks.
I sigh, rubbing my hair through my fingers.
“You really don’t think she’s got something?” I ask, hopeful.
“No. I don’t,” he barks.
He turns his attention back to the drums, so I pick up my guitar trying to avoid further bashing of my feelings for Kat.
Max’s opinion has always meant a lot to me, but for some reason he doesn’t like Kat, which surprises me. Max likes almost any good looking girl, and there is no question, Kat is good looking. I know from all the chatter at school, I’m not the only one who thinks so.
The two hours fly by, without another word of Kat, and I am relieved, I don’t like discussing her with him. I can’t get her or the feel of those red lips out of my head, and I can’t wait for History class tomorrow.
KAT