“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I swear to you,” I bleed it out with the fervor of a husband accused of cheating on his wife. That’s oddly how it feels around Pops, like we’ve been married for years. It’s not always such a good thing.
“Why do you care? Miles was one person who was in my life for like five seconds over an eon ago.”
“I do.” Miles was the first person anyone had ever left me for. I wanted Poppy to like me, to look at me the way other girls did, and, instead, she turned her interests elsewhere. What Poppy doesn’t know is, that fast forward to graduation day, I was determined to end the cold war between us. I asked Conner to help orchestrate a peace treaty. I was going to meet her at the base of this oak where we once shared our first kiss, albeit an innocent peck at the tender age of seven.
I clear my throat a bit. “We were good until we weren’t. What happened?”
“That’s ancient history, Gordo.” Her hand flops by her side, and I’m quick to lace our fingers together.
“I’ve always been a fan of studying the past.” I swallow hard at what comes next. “Did I do something to upset you?”
“Not really.” Her voice grows sad. “It’s kind of stupid, actually.”
“So, you’re not going to tell me?”
“Nope.”
“Well, if you did, I would probably tell you it wasn’t all that stupid. I was stupid at the time, and I probably didn’t even mean whatever it is I did.”
“Maybe. Did you mean it when you flat out disowned our friendship in tenth grade?”
Crap. That I do remember. “For the record, I’ve always felt like an ass for that. But in my defense, I thought you were getting ready to toss a jab my way, and instead of taking it like a man, I thought I’d strike first.” Sometimes telling the truth hurts, and this is one of those times.
She gives my hand a slight squeeze. “I appreciate your honesty.”
A moment bounces by, and the tiny room clogs up with the sound of our breathing.
“I’d appreciate some honesty, Pops. What has you so upset with me?”
Silence slices by, sharp as a razor. “I don’t know, maybe after the party.” Her voice is small and fragile. “I don’t want to talk about any of this.” A white plume emits from her mouth as the room grows increasingly frigid.
I roll over onto my side and gaze down at her with her hair splayed all around like a halo.
“Okay, we won’t talk.” Instead, I land my finger over her lips and gently outline her features. She’s so achingly beautiful with the moon kissing her face, her eyes glowing like otherworldly beacons, those perfectly full pink lips. I have never quite met a girl like Poppy, and I’m not sure I ever will.
I edge my way in close to her until my lids grow heavy and I can no longer keep them open. “Forgive me,” I whisper right over her lips as my mouth makes a home over hers. Poppy freezes beneath me as I press out slow, lingering kisses before she lets out a sigh and her fingers grip me by the jacket, pulling me closer.
Poppy and I stay the night, knit together by our mouths, taking care of each other, loving one another the only way we know how, without words, without mention of a tarnished past, just one tender kiss at a time, and then we start all over again.
I’m in love with this girl.
I don’t think I can ever let her go.
I can’t.
She’s mine.
Saturday comeslike an unwanted guest at a party that you never wanted to throw in the first place. And ironically, all of those euphemisms have somehow managed to morph into reality, on this, the day my mother will celebrate her sixtieth birthday party with her best friend. By the time I shower and dress, there’s a small army of people trekking in and out of the house. By evening the wait staff is a hundred strong as the pre-party bustle is in full swing. The entire downstairs has been transformed into party central with the grand room decked out with an oversized silver banner readingHappy Birthday Charlene and Deb!A wreath of white balloons outlines the room, and bouquets of long stem roses sit on an entire army of tables set out for the guests.
Mom comes traipsing in from the next room with her hair done up, her lips painted a bright shade of fuchsia that makes her eyes glow bright.
“Happy birthday!” I give the birthday girl herself a quick embrace.
“It’s about time!” She swats me away. “The guests are arriving! Go help your sister with the baby. I need everything perfect. Char and Poppy are on their way,” she sings as trots on by.
Poppy. Those kisses we shared last night were the sole reason I woke up with a smile—and a woody. And even though that’s an everyday occurrence, this one was just for her.
I head out to the front, and Jensen runs right into my arms. “Whoa, buddy.” I pick him up and swing him through the air. “You got your turbo shoes on today?” He giggles up a storm as I land him safely back on the ground. “Get in there and give your grandmother a big fat birthday kiss.” He takes off like a lightning rod. My mother’s birthday is in a week, and Charlene’s is the week after that, but they chose this fine day to gather the masses for the cutting of the cake and the announcement they’ve been teasing for the better part of the last few months. In a way, I’m glad to get that over with. The endless lists my mother threw at me, the endless chatter about the party, the anticipation of having hundreds of her closest friends milling around for the evening—she exhausted me on the event, and it hasn’t even come to fruition. But here we are.
