We rejoined the party, laughing, drinking and necking on the sofa until the early hours of the morning. I hated saying goodbye to Pete, wishing the night would last forever.
Jaime and I cleaned up, changed into our pajamas and crawled into bed. We whispered and giggled, talking about our guys and all that summer promised, into the night.
§§
I walked into the drab green portable and picked a spot in the middle of the classroom. Five other students had already nabbed seats. I glanced at the teacher, dressed in tacky plaid pants and sporting a bow tie around the collar of his white, short-sleeved dress shirt. A bad combover completed his dreadful ensemble.
Over the next ten minutes, others filed in, the stale air becoming warmer by the minute. I fanned myself with my yellow Pee Chee folder, stopping only to notice someone had added the words, I’m gay coming out of the mouths of the two football players tackling each other on the front cover graphics. No doubt Pete’s handiwork.
“I am Mr. Wells, and I will be teaching you driver’s education this summer. Once you have completed this class and reach the required age, you will be prepared to take your test to obtain your driver’s license. There are two parts to this program. The first is classroom time, where you will learn the rules of operating a vehicle, the perils of the road and vehicle safety. We will also use simulators to practice driving.”
Mr. Wells paused for effect. Despite my classmates appearing bored, I hung on his every word. This class was my ticket to a license, otherwise known as freedom.
The instructor droned on. “The second part is time behind the wheel of a vehicle to implement the practical applications you learn in the classroom.”
I had driven a little—illegally, of course—over the past year. My brother taught me a few things and let me drive around some parking lots on the sly, and Pete promised to let me behind the wheel soon, too.
After Driver’s Ed, I met the cheerleading squad on the football field for practice. Kristi “Mac” MacDonald, our head cheerleader, ran us through five short-action cheers. It was grueling work to learn the words and movements for each cheer, much harder than I anticipated. It would require hours of rehearsing in my free time to get the moves down pat.
I became fast friends with the other girls on the squad. I thought the popular ones would be stuck-up, but I was wrong. Before school let out, we met to pick uniforms and camp dates, and everyone got along fine. Summer would surely test our mettle; all those unlearned cheers hovered like a blackening rain cloud about to burst.
Katy finished up cross-country practice, and I waved her over. We gave each other a quick sweaty hug and sprawled out to stretch our limbs.
“I bet I’ll be able to do the splits by camp. Take a look.” I balanced on my fingertips while pushing my legs toward the earth.
“I think you’re right—you’re only about three inches from the ground.” She did a hair flip. “What are you doing after practice?”
I smiled slyly. “Seeing Pete.”
“Of course. Why did I bother to ask?”
“Why did you?” I chuckled.
“Have you let him get to first base yet?”
“I’m not standing in the way when it happens.”
“Because he’s Mr. Perfect, isn’t he?”
I nodded. “I’ve never been happier.”
Katy pulled up a tuft of grass and threw it at me. “You are making me positively sick.”
Pete drove up in his mom’s station wagon and I jumped up. “Gotta go,” I said, grabbing my things in a rush.
“Wouldn’t want to leave Prince Charming waiting, would we?” she mumbled.
I jogged to his car and slid into the seat beside him, greeting him with a kiss. “Hi, handsome.”
“How’s my rah rah?”
I slapped his arm. “You know I don’t like that. And there will be repercussions for using any undesirable terminology.”
He raised his right eyebrow. “Repercussions?”
“You heard me. I’ll withhold all affection.” I attempted a serious scowl.
He pretended to gasp and faint.
“Stop it!” I couldn’t help laughing.
“I need a kiss in order to be revived,” he said weakly.
“You need a good swift kick in the—”
Pete cut me off with a kiss. I fought it, my attempts halfhearted. As soon as his warm lips pressed against mine, the fire ignited and my mind went blank.
19
Heavy Breathing
Pete and I lay entwined in the back of his mom’s station wagon, steaming up the car windows. We had long since left the Piedmont Theater after watching Meatballs, a hilarious summer camp movie starring Bill Murray. In our secluded spot in the Oakland hills, we explored each other’s mouths, now familiar territory.
Pete’s hand snuck under my shirt, fondling me through the lacy exterior of my bra. Heat rushed through my body and I kissed him harder.
“It’s okay?” he murmured between kisses.
“Yes,” I said, panting.
Pete fumbled with the hook for a minute as I tried to ignore the awkwardness. Heck, I had trouble with it myself. He unlatched it, the elastic material springing open. His hand was on my bare skin now, and I moaned softly from his caresses.
His lips left mine and ventured lower. I closed my eyes, savoring the sensations of his warm mouth against my flesh. Goosebumps fluttered across my torso and arms, but I only registered heat.
He pulled me on top of him, my long hair falling across his face. He pushed it back, cupping my cheekbones in his hands and kissing me again on lips.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you, too.”
We kissed again, my body grinding against his.
Pete groaned, lifting me off him carefully. “What are you trying to do to me, woman?”
I smiled. “Sorry. It
