I suddenly felt like the whole room was swaying. My stomach was flip-flopping, and sweat was forming at my brow. It took a massive effort just to swallow. Fear that I might pass out ran through my body, and I had to get out of Marc’s room. It still smelled like him, all boyish and musty. Everything felt overwhelming, and I fled to the kitchen and grabbed my phone.
“Hey,” his voice was tender. “I was hoping I’d hear from you.”
“Brandon, listen.” I could hear the frantic sound of my voice, and I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t control it. “Can we hang out?”
“Definitely. You want me to pick you up?”
He sounded so sweet. “Is your mom home?”
“No, she took Nicholas to his Cub Scouts meeting. Why?”
I didn’t have time for his questions. “So, they’ll be gone for a while?”
“Yeah, a few hours. Why? Are you all right?” I could hear the mix of confusion and concern in his voice.
“I’m coming over then. Okay?”
“Okay, but Marissa—”
I cut him off before he could keep on with the questions. “I’ll be there soon.” I hung up.
****
I was on autopilot as I drove to Brandon’s house. My GPS was my only connection to me that I was actually driving. My brain was swimming with images of Marc, my mom, and Gram. They were drowning me. Too bad the GPS couldn’t identify stop signs for me, because I blew through two of them. Getting stopped by the police wasn’t something I wanted to add to an already horrible day.
I pulled into Brandon’s driveway. The fifteen-minute drive had taken me ten. My knuckles stung as I pounded on the door. The rate of my pulse elevated, like a frightened lab rat. And I needed some water.
He greeted me with a kiss. When he tried to pull away from the kiss, I grabbed the back of his head and pushed my lips against him hard. His breathing began to quicken as my tongue found its way into his mouth. The front door shut behind me. I moved our bodies toward the living room and onto the couch, never letting his lips leave mine. We tumbled onto the couch together, and for the first time since my arrival, our lips broke free from each other. Instantly, I lunged for Brandon’s lips again.
“Whoa.” He held me by my shoulders, my face just inches from his. “I don’t wanna be lame or anything here by stopping you, but what’s going on?”
I avoided his eyes and concentrated on his lips. His soft, pink, waiting lips. Like a lioness, I tried to advance on him again, but his hands on my shoulders kept me at bay.
“What?” I whined. “Nothing’s going on. I just… I just want to kiss you.” Heat coursed through every part of my body. It was like an electrical surge was rushing through me. My brain had too much to process, and I had to shut it down somehow. Brandon could help me shut it down. His lips could help me shut it down. The tension he had kept on my shoulders lessened, and I pounced on him, pushing him onto his back. Like an acrobat, I straddled myself on top of him and pushed my lips onto his again. My skin was hot with anxiety, and kissing Brandon was like applying aloe to a sunburn. I felt his hands weaving through my hair. We were both breathing heavily, and I could feel his body tensing below me. His hands traveled down to the small of my back, and I clawed at the collar of his shirt. In one quick beat, I moved my lips from his mouth to his neck. I pulled his shirt collar again and bit his collarbone.
“Hey,” he said, his voice hot and husky.
I sat up and lifted my T-shirt over my head, exposing my bra. The air rushed the skin of my naked belly, and it sent a chill through me.
“Marissa?” In one swift motion, he moved me from on top of him to the other end of the couch, and then he sat upright. “What’s going on?” His eyes bore into me.
I had to distract him. I had to keep him focused on not talking, because I couldn’t talk. Words hurt, thoughts hurt. There was no point to any of it, and I needed to just do this. Without thought, I reached behind my back and began to unhook my bra.
Instantly he was beside me, throwing his hand around my back, gripping my hands firm in his. “No,” he said. “What’s going on?” His words were slow and deliberate.
A look of concern crossed his eyes. Avoiding his eyes, I looked at the stretched-out collar of his T-shirt. It looked like an animal had pulled on it. Then I saw the mark on his collarbone, the bite mark. I hardly remembered doing that to him. There was a grotesque bubbling feeling inside me. Like I had eaten a box of baking soda and someone was pouring vinegar down my throat. The rush, the emotion, the fear — it was all coming up fast. Before he could see the tears start streaming down my cheeks, I pushed past him and grabbed my shirt that had fallen on the floor. I rushed to the front door, my arms flailing as I pulled the shirt over my head. My purse had fallen in the entryway, and I grabbed it and its contents seconds before Brandon was at my side.
“Marissa, come on, you’re freaking me out here. What’s going on?” He put
