Better Late Than Never Page 10

  I check mine as we shuffle out of the row and out of the theater. “We have, like, twenty minutes.”

  The air outside chills the heat in my body and Rex wraps his jacket around me, pulling me close.

  “Ten minutes to get you home,” he says, his voice deep and enticing. “And ten minutes kissing these lips.”

  He runs his thumb across my bottom lip for emphasis and I bite it in anticipation. My tummy flutters as butterflies go wild. Rex, Mr. Conservative and “square” is doing things to me that I hope ten minutes can accomplish.

  “I don’t want to miss a minute,” he tells me before kissing my cheek and leading me to his car.

  Hells yeah…

  Rex and I have been sucking face and neck and groping each other for the last ten minutes. How we haven’t done the dirty yet is beyond me, but this is nice.

  He had driven home faster than when we had left for the movies and parked a block away from my house. As soon as he put his car in park, I was on him like flees on a hound, and it has been nothing but kissing and fondling ever since. He has only touched my boobs, but I tell you, the boy knows what to do with a set of melons!

  He is hard and ready in his jeans, but every time I take hold of him, he lets me squeeze it a few times before he moves my hand away. Getting frustrated, I bite his bottom lip, but all he does is chuckle as he swipes at the tinge of blood that forms.

  “Listen to me,” he stresses, holding me by the neck to keep me focused. “You have no idea how much I want to fuck you.”

  The declaration hits me square in the vagina and I start nodding my agreement, as if he has asked a question. He chuckles, finding my need amusing.

  “I really, really want to Savannah.” Hearing him say my full name is strange. He is the only person in my life who uses it so frequently. Yet, weird as it is, it feels nice hearing the way he says it, like it is meant just for him.

  “But I won’t sleep with you in my car,” he continues. “You deserve a bed, with slow music, and rose petals.”

  That does sound good. Maybe now is the time to tell him I’m a virgin?

  “Besides, it’s two minutes to your curfew and I am not too keen on dying before I get more time with you.” Jesus, but he’s sweet! And right.

  Reluctantly, we separate, but he holds my hand, stroking my knuckles as he starts the car and drives me home. On my verandah, we say our goodbyes, but as soon as our heads close in on each other, the lights start flickering. Daaaddd…

  “Goodnight, Rex,” he calls from beyond the door.

  Rex straightens then clears his throat. “Goodnight, sir.”

  “Night, Rex,” my Mom singsongs, and I groan, embarrassed.

  Rex’s blue eyes widen, mortification striking him like a lightning bolt. Welcome to my family, buddy. I am about to hug him goodnight when he sticks his hand out between us. I take it, confused, and then he pumps it once.

  “Thank you for a great night, Savannah. Goodnight.” And then he’s gone.

  Understanding dawns and I want to strangle my parents. I could have gotten a hug and kiss goodnight if not for them. Instead, I get a measly handshake.

  The door opens and my Mom stands there with a shit-eating grin on her face. My Dad…not so enthused.

  “Did he get to second base?” Mom asks excitedly.

  A sound between a scoff and a groan echoes from my throat and I stomp passed them straight up to my room. As I get to the top of the stairs, I hear both of them burst into laughter and I shake my head at my weird ass family.

  I love them.

  Rubbing a barking Spike’s head, I waltz past him and into my room where I twirl in delight and crash land on my futon.

  What a night!

  Fishing out my cell phone from my handbag, I’m in the process of typing out a text to Rex when I see the edge of what looks like a scrapbook under my bed. Curious, I kneel in front of my bed and pick it up, noticing that it is what I initially thought. I sit on the floor and turn it right side up, reading “Our Big Book of Dreams” in cut out letters on the front.

  My heart starts hammering in my chest because I don’t remember making this. Grayson would never make me something like this either because he is too macho for scrapbooking. There is only one other person who would ever do this. He isn’t into scrapbooking, but knows I love it.

  And as I open the book and see the Eiffel Tower and a picture of us next to it, I know who made it. How long has it been there?

  I flip through each page and remember every single conversation we had over the years. I am reminded of the bond we share and tears well in my eyes. The first drop falls when a page comes up with my business idea and an arrow pointing to him as my partner.

  Tears stream down my face when I see a picture of my grandparents’ house along with a picture of Tim Allen. I don’t know how many times I have told him that I want to improve their house.

  The last page has me fully sobbing.

  “Happy birthday, Crazy Hair. This is really what I should have told you today. I should have told you that you’re the other part of my soul. I should have told you that you’re my favorite person in the whole world and my very best friend. I should have told you that I never felt complete until I met you. I should have told you that I loved you beyond any words we could ever possibly say.

  I cannot wait to start these adventures with you. Love, Kyle.”

  Clutching the scrapbook close to my chest, I unleash the buildup of heartbreak over losing my best friend. I had done well today – not thinking of him – but this has dragged me back full circle.

  I miss my best friend.

  Chapter Nine – This Is It!

  Savi – Present

  GRAYSON FINALLY COMES to pick me up just as Boyd decides to call me an Uber. I had tried to help him close up, but my phone shattered in the process, so I supervised. I kept dozing off, though. Sitting and giving orders was hard work. He had given me more water and allowed me to snooze for a few minutes before he announced that he was calling me a cab.

  “I’m sorry I took so long,” Grayson apologizes, taking me by the arm and steadying me.

  “No worries, she was good company,” new bestie, Boyd answers kindly.

  Grayson is silent as he looks down at me, then at Boyd. He scoffs, “Good company. Her? While she’s drunk? I’m surprised there aren’t cops swarming the place telling her to come out with her hands up.”

  “One time, Grayson!” I point out, trying to hold up a single finger, but seeing two. “I get arrested one time and y’all will not let me live that down!”

  “Wait, arrested?” Boyd teases. “You lead quite a festive life, don’t you? How come I didn’t hear about that story?”

  I wave him off, swaying on my feet. “That comes later, long after Kyle takes my virginity.” I hiccup and stumble, almost tripping over my feet.

  “Oh, dear God, I don’t want to hear this again,” Grayson groans.

  And he did not want to hear about it then, either.

  Savi – Past

  December 2007

  Things between Rex and me progress daily these last four months. Word had quickly spread around school that we were dating and, strangely, I was okay with it. I didn’t mind taking a ride on the rumor mill; didn’t mind all the hateful looks I got from girls, especially those from Sarah-Sue. None of that mattered anyway, not when we were walking through the halls hand in hand, or when he was dropping me off at my classes with a kiss on the cheek. I have found him to be thoughtful and very sweet.

  And bonus, he is a damn good kisser.

  Grayson hates Rex but tolerates him for my sake. Spike seems to hate him too, judging by the mean looks and attacks he has been subjected to. And Kyle…well, we still aren’t on speaking terms.

  Call it pride or call it scared shitless, but I still haven’t confronted him about my birthday gift. It has been months since we last spoke and, although it is eating me up inside, I think it is best for all of us if I keep it that way.

  Bec
ky is starting to look different. She’s missed a lot of school, and those days when she isn’t around, it almost seems as if Kyle isn’t around either – even though he is usually present. I can’t put my finger on why, but she looks drained. Hell, Kyle looks drained too, but I can’t bring myself to ask him what’s going on. The only person I can share my thoughts with is Grayson, and he can barely stand me harping on and on about Rex, let alone his cousin.

  It is our last day of school today; officially winter break. Rex’s parents are out of town and he wants me to be his guest of honor at his house party. Yes, straight-laced Rex is having a party and I am more excited than a fat kid in a bakery because…

  Tonight, is the night!

  I had finally told him two weeks ago that I was a virgin and he had kissed me silly. He told me that if I wanted to wait, he would; that he was in no rush. I told him that he may not be but I was, and he laughed. He wouldn’t know…can’t know why I am in such a rush to lose my virginity.

  The longer I hold on to it, the more my heart tells me that the person who will take it is my once best friend.

  And the universe is fucked up enough to make that happen.

  So, I am taking my virginity in my own hands…well, it’s in Rex’s hands now.

  I have never been to a party before, not because I have not been invited – I haven’t – but because I was never interested. Keep tellin’ yourself that, honey.

  So, as I comb through my closet, wrapped in a towel from my shower, Spike yapping away like he doesn’t want me to go out, I realize that my party clothes are zero. Zilch. I flop back onto the bed and growl out my frustration and Spike releases what sounds like a satisfied yelp.

  “Asshole,” I mumble to my terrorist dog as he trots out of my bedroom with his tail high up in the air, as if to say, “my work here is done.”

  I sigh, mentally going through all the floral prints I have. I may have something polka dotted, but that is just as bad. I don’t want to embarrass Rex with my floral obsession on the night of his party – that is rumored to be epic. For once I wish I had taken Mom up on the offer to buy me normal clothes.

  Curse me and my need to stand out from the crowd!

  Yet “normal” clothes give me hives with the trucker hats and short belt-like skirts, and weapons for high heels.

  I’ll pass.

  A knock on my door signals the entrance of my Mom. She walks in with what looks like a black dress draped over her arm and her favorite pair of dark purple flats dangling from her fingers.

  “I know you wouldn’t have anything like this in your closet,” she says, holding up everything she is carrying. “So, I thought I’d help you out.”

  She lays them on the bed and, like a tattooed, fairy godmother, my Mom sets about fixing me up for my very first house party. When she is done, I look in the mirror and marvel like Stan Lee.

  Holy shit! I look hot!

  In my mother’s knee length black dress with lace from the swells of my breasts to my neck, the cutest purple flats on, and my long purple hair scooped over my shoulder, I am a healthy mix of refined yet edgy and sexy.

  Mostly sexy.

  “When your father saw me in this for the first time a few months ago, we never made it to dinner,” she confides, fussing with the ends of my hair. She looks thoughtful for a second before revealing, “Well, he did eat…”

  I am confused for about two point five seconds.

  “Ew, Mom! Gross!” I did not need to know that!

  She laughs and waggles her eyebrows suggestively then leaves the room. Spike sits on his butt staring up at me, his face made up as if his nefarious plans were thwarted.

  “Stupid dog,” I tease. “You can’t beat me.”

  Spike bares his teeth and growls before getting up and turning to sniff the carpet. With one last smug look at me – at least, I think it was – Spike runs out of my room…

  Leaving a healthy dose of shit on my carpet.

  Touché, Spike. Tou-fucking-ché.

  After cleaning up Spike’s shitty retribution, I wash my hands, spritz myself with perfume one last time, grab my handbag – that only holds my cell phone, purse, lip gloss and keys; which further makes my point that handbags are a waste of time since everything I need could fit in my purse – and then head downstairs. The TV is blaring with reruns of that Jerry guy’s show as I quietly grab my jacket and try to sneak past my Dad.

  No such luck.

  “Young lady,” he calls out in that Dad tone he’s been using lately.

  I turn back to the living room and when my Dad looks up, he does a double take. His eyes bulge and he shoots out of the couch, the paper he had been reading falling from his lap. He looks…pissed.

  “You are not wearing that!” he orders, and my teenage swords of rebellion rise, ready to launch an attack on my Dad who so does not understand teenage girls!

  “Oh, come on, Wes,” my mom defends, walking into the warzone, newly changed in a tank top and low-riding jogging pants.

  My Dad’s favorite.

  Momma came to battle!

  “Jules,” he starts, and stops when she wiggles her body past him.

  “She’s a teenager going to her first party, baby,” she sweet-talks. “Let her live a little. Let her have some normal fun.”

  He doesn’t say anything, and I’m wondering if he is considering what she’s saying, or if he’s considering her ass as she bends over to pick the paper up from the floor.

  Either way, I think we’re winning!

  “Jules,” he starts again, but pauses when she comes up to him and presses her body against his.

  I don’t know if I should be watching this…

  “Besides, we get the house to ourselves for a few hours…” she stretches out the thought, rubbing circles on his chest and it takes him a second to kiss her then shove me out the front door.

  Victorious, I saunter down the steps with extra swagger, straight to Grayson’s idling car.

  “No sleeping with Rex, Savi!” my Dad calls out after me for the whole neighborhood to hear. “And be home by eleven!”

  Grayson is doubled over his steering wheel, laughing like a hyena on laughing gas and my embarrassment grows. I sink down into Grayson’s passenger seat, mortified.

  How the hell did he even know about my plans?

  Despite Grayson almost driving me right back home when he finally saw my outfit – something about my body starting wars – we arrive at Rex’s house to loud music, a street full of cars, neighbors peeking out of their curtains and a bunch of rowdy kids all over. Rex’s house is a lavish two-story colonial brick structure at the end of a cul-de-sac. It had lush green manicured lawns, a massive porch, a porch above it, and a three-car garage off to the side. I mean, I knew his folks are rich, but not this rich.

  We walk up the porch steps and approach the open double doors at the front of the house. Rex spots us, and when he registers that it’s me, his reaction is epic. Walking briskly toward me, he grabs hold of my waist and, for everyone to see, kisses the living daylights out of me. His stunt is met with cheers and whistles and cries for us to get a room.

  “Soon,” he whispers in my ear to the demand for us to get a room.

  My body shivers at his promise, but then I look across the room and see Kyle, with a red Solo cup in hand, staring at me with barely leashed rage, and my skin erupts further into gooseflesh. He looks amazing in blue jeans that are ripped at the knees, a dark green t-shirt and long-sleeved white Henley underneath it, and black Chucks on his feet. His hair falls over to the side of his face, drawing attention to the ire in his eyes.

  At first, I think he is angry at Rex, but then I notice his stare is on me. His nostrils flare and I start feeling self-conscious for a second before thinking better of it.

  I will not allow Kyle Moxam to ruin my night.

  Rex leaves me to tend to his party but promises to be with me soon. I bite my lip, because…this is it! I had bought extra condoms when Grayson stopped for gas and stu
ffed them in my purse. I’m wearing a thong that is the most uncomfortable underwear ever made. I shaved my downstairs area and spritzed her up with vajayjay spray.

  I am so ready.

  After about half an hour, I am dancing and having a good time. The music is hypnotizing, commanding this girl to move her body. I tell myself I’m dancing for Rex, but I can’t help feeling wanton when I find Kyle’s eyes on me the entire time. It makes me feel bold, sexy…desired.

  Grayson gets me cups of beer as I dance, but mostly stays away from me. I think, based on the way Maura Stein is wrapped around him, he might be getting lucky tonight as well.

  An hour passes and I am soaked, but feeling great, when I hear a commotion in the direction of the kitchen. Everyone rushes toward the ruckus and, reluctantly, I follow. What is it with these boys? Can’t they check their petty teenage angst at the door?

  As I get closer, I hear everyone chanting “Fight! Fight! Fight!” and then someone yells, “Good punch, Rex!” And that changes the whole game.

  I push through the crowd, panicked, only to see someone body-slam Rex to the floor and land him punch after punch, blood spattering the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt. The ravenous teens are riled up as they witness the fight. Even Sarah-Sue looks bloodthirsty as she eggs the two of them on.

  I do not need to see his face or study his clothes to know who’s whaling on my boyfriend like a man possessed. As I see his arms flex and come down on Rex, I feel a sick slickness pool between my legs at the strength the boy has.

  Jesus, I’m a freak.

  “Kyle, stop!” I scream at my former best friend, tears now streaming down my face.

  Amidst the noise and chaos, Kyle’s fist stops mid-air, hearing my voice like a siren’s call. He gets up, adrenaline pumping his shoulders up and down, but turns to face me. His brown eyes are wild but soften when he sees the terror and tears on my face.

  Rex is helped up from the floor and he wipes away the blood from his lip. Angrily, he spits, “What the fuck, man?”