“How did you know that?”
I tap my nose. But how hard is it to believe that I would know her after all these years? My hand moves without warning and I grasp her cheek, caressing her smooth skin with my thumb.
“And there’s something else,” I mumble, leaning in. Debbie’s breath catches with a gasp and her eyelashes flutter as she glances at my mouth. “You said I always get who I want.”
Debbie nods and exhales as I graze her bottom lip with a fingertip.
“Then tell me something,” I say, barely above a whisper, inching my forehead closer to hers. “If I always get who I want, why is it that after you gave me the most passionate kiss of my entire life you then left me high and dry in the summer?”
I survey Debbie’s face closely as she gasps again. A flush of color rises from her collarbone to her cheeks.
“I––I…” she stammers, but no other words come out.
“Tell me Debbie. Why have you been avoiding me ever since? Did you not like kissing me? Was it bad?”
Debbie’s eyes are still focused on my mouth, her breaths come out short and ragged. It would be so easy to pull her in and taste her again. The allure of her perfume is intoxicating and it takes every ounce of my resolve to hold back, but I have to know what she’s thinking.
“Do you regret that night?” I ask, dreading the answer. It was a night that will be forever etched in my memory. Definitely in the top three of my life’s highlights so far. Debbie’s breaths tickle my lips and she looks at me through her dark lashes. My hand is frozen on her cheek and I hold my breath. Waiting.
“I do regret it,” she says finally, and the words sink like heavy rocks to the bottom of my stomach. My hand falls to my lap and I pull away.
“Right,” I say, clearing my throat and swallowing against a lump. “Well, there you have it. I do not get whoever I want.” I gesture to her and give a frank smile before averting my eyes. “Because all I’ve ever wanted, is you.”
There. I said it. Finally, my brain and my mouth made connection and I am able to finally express my true feelings. With no jibe, no smirk. Not even a hint of sarcasm, either. I’m pretty impressed. But Debbie’s reaction hits me like a dagger to the heart.
I’m not sure what I expect. A kiss? A sigh? Maybe an apology?
No.
She laughs. Debbie laughs so loudly, she’s doubled over, tears running down her face and cheeks flushed. I watch her, blinking in silence and wondering just what is so funny.
Well, that went down like a lead balloon.
Debbie
I have this terrible habit when it comes to awkward moments. When we were kids, Katia fell off the swings and broke her arm. She cried so much that within minutes we were surrounded by our parents and other kids at the park. We were hurried into the car and dad raced us to the hospital. It was traumatizing and Katia wailed almost the entire time.
Normal people would show concern, even if they were only eight years old. But I did the unthinkable. I laughed.
And I’ve just done it again.
Thing is, Mark’s line is so unexpected and cheesy, how can I not laugh?
All he’s ever wanted is me? What a joke.
The tears in my eyes do not obscure my vision enough to miss the hurt on his face, and a twinge of guilt pangs my stomach. I take a moment to recover and find myself on my feet. How can I come back from this? I know, play the mad card.
“You have a funny way of showing it,” I say in an accusatory tone. Mark looks at me with surprise and shrugs.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, bewildered.
“How long have we known each other? Since freshman year. And you mostly ignored the fact I existed until senior year. You’ve teased me mercilessly ever since.”
“Didn’t anyone tell you that’s how guys show they’re into you?”
“In kindergarten, yeah. But if you want me, the grown-up thing to do is to ask me out. Not make fun of me,” I shoot back, planting my hands firmly on my hips. I sound like my mother.
Mark rises and takes my hand. His skin is hot to touch, and I worry if he holds me for too long, I’ll start to melt.
“But last summer… don’t you remember?”
My breath comes out shallow as my shoulders slump.
Last summer, all of us went to a cabin at the lake to celebrate our graduation. Drinks were flowing, the moon was huge, and it illuminated the water in the most transcendental way. I never drink. But what I thought was a tonic water, had something a lot stronger slipped in. It burned the back of my throat and lowered my defences. The result? I flirted shamelessly with Mark. Cozied up to him, rubbed his back, pecked his cheek.
He should have stopped me. Walked away. Realized I was not acting like myself, but he went along with it.
He fisted my hair as I grasped his neck and the two of us made out under the moonlight until our lungs ached. We broke apart, breathless. Then Mark took my hand and pressed his lips on the back of it.
“I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time,” he muttered into my ear. His breath tickled my cheeks and he smoothed my hair away from my face.
Things would have gone farther that night. I eyed him brazenly and clutched his forearms, licking my lips. I wanted it to go farther.
But just as Mark leaned in for another kiss, the drink made an unexpected reappearance. All over his shirt. Horrified is not a strong enough word. I dashed back into the cabin and locked myself in the bathroom.
Neither of us had spoken about that moment since.
Until now.
My cheeks are on fire, and I want
