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Authors: Bria Quinlan
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arm.
But, with Chris the hotness was more. It was all about
throwing my balance off. Of hitting me in weird places. He was so beautiful…perfectly
sculpted…that my own perception of myself got kicked even further out of whack,
totally taking me off guard. I wasn’t used to this happening with guys.
Usually, the comparison game only happened with girls. But,
when faced with this much beauty, I was pretty much walking an edge.
An edge where I had to balance because there’s no way he’d
be looking at me the same way. He’d never be able to see me…but that was okay.
Actually, that was for the best. He was the Least Safe Boy on the Planet.
I stepped back—well, I stepped back in my mind.
“Okay.” He pulled back. “So, we’re on? I’ll ride with you.
We’ll talk about studying later today. Good to go?”
I nodded again.
“Great.”
Great , I echoed in
my head. Yeah, that was sarcasm. I might be able to edit my mouth, but there
was no way I could keep it out of my head.
We both just stood there, looking at each other. Finally he
said, “Do you have a bag or something.”
Wow. When did I get stupid? Everything just felt more without the meds.
That was the weird thing. Coming off them, not only did I
have to process stuff I wouldn’t have noticed, wouldn’t have even felt for the
last three years, but I also had to deal with everything being fresh. More.
And let me tell you, the emotions of your average American
teen were insane. I mean, not clinically insane…but, yeah. And I was not your average
American teen.
I knew even on the meds there was no reason in this world
Chris Kent needed to be more .
On the way out, I grabbed my bag off the end of the banister
and checked for a sweatshirt, swimsuit, towel, sunblock and—of course—lip gloss. Chris followed me to my third-generation-hand-me-down
Civic, tossed his backpack in the back seat, and folded himself into the front.
“Where’s your car?” I asked as we backed out of the
driveway.
It didn’t seem like a tough question, but he didn’t answer.
Maybe he was thinking about something else. Maybe he was thinking about Amy.
“Chris,” I raised my voice. “Where’s your car?”
“Oh, yeah.” His voice wavered a
little. Like he wasn’t sure how to answer. “My mom
needed it.”
Chris didn’t seem like the mama’s boy type, but what did I
know?
Actually, what did I know?
I glanced toward him, but he’d leaned his head against the door and was watching the world go by through the peeling
tint of the window.
I knew he was hot. I knew he got around. I knew he was the It
Boy of high school soccer for the entire state. Every adult in the school
bragged about the college scouts coming to look at him by sophomore year. I
knew he was struggling with his grades. He was in a panic and I suddenly
suspected it wasn’t just about the grades.
You know what they say: Takes one to know one.
“Is everything okay?” As if I was in a place to help anyone
out.
“Yeah. Everything’s fine.” He
didn’t even bother to turn and pretend to give me his attention. He just kept
staring out my window, letting me drive his butt to his friend’s party while
taking over my life to get him into his college of choice.
Whatever.
I’m not anyone’s social confessional.
“It’s about seeing Luke and Amy, isn’t it?” I just couldn’t
seem to help myself. Sometimes someone else’s mess makes yours disappear. Or at
least go into hiding. Like wearing a hat on a bad hair day. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t think it would hit you this
hard. You really don’t like losing, do you?”
He didn’t say anything, just kept looking out the window.
The silence kind of sat between us. I felt like one of those people in a bad
cop movie trapped on my side of the Plexiglass wall
without a two-way phone. After a minute, I turned the music on. Anything was
better than listening to him not talk.
I’d never been to Ben’s before, but I wasn’t about to
But, with Chris the hotness was more. It was all about
throwing my balance off. Of hitting me in weird places. He was so beautiful…perfectly
sculpted…that my own perception of myself got kicked even further out of whack,
totally taking me off guard. I wasn’t used to this happening with guys.
Usually, the comparison game only happened with girls. But,
when faced with this much beauty, I was pretty much walking an edge.
An edge where I had to balance because there’s no way he’d
be looking at me the same way. He’d never be able to see me…but that was okay.
Actually, that was for the best. He was the Least Safe Boy on the Planet.
I stepped back—well, I stepped back in my mind.
“Okay.” He pulled back. “So, we’re on? I’ll ride with you.
We’ll talk about studying later today. Good to go?”
I nodded again.
“Great.”
Great , I echoed in
my head. Yeah, that was sarcasm. I might be able to edit my mouth, but there
was no way I could keep it out of my head.
We both just stood there, looking at each other. Finally he
said, “Do you have a bag or something.”
Wow. When did I get stupid? Everything just felt more without the meds.
That was the weird thing. Coming off them, not only did I
have to process stuff I wouldn’t have noticed, wouldn’t have even felt for the
last three years, but I also had to deal with everything being fresh. More.
And let me tell you, the emotions of your average American
teen were insane. I mean, not clinically insane…but, yeah. And I was not your average
American teen.
I knew even on the meds there was no reason in this world
Chris Kent needed to be more .
On the way out, I grabbed my bag off the end of the banister
and checked for a sweatshirt, swimsuit, towel, sunblock and—of course—lip gloss. Chris followed me to my third-generation-hand-me-down
Civic, tossed his backpack in the back seat, and folded himself into the front.
“Where’s your car?” I asked as we backed out of the
driveway.
It didn’t seem like a tough question, but he didn’t answer.
Maybe he was thinking about something else. Maybe he was thinking about Amy.
“Chris,” I raised my voice. “Where’s your car?”
“Oh, yeah.” His voice wavered a
little. Like he wasn’t sure how to answer. “My mom
needed it.”
Chris didn’t seem like the mama’s boy type, but what did I
know?
Actually, what did I know?
I glanced toward him, but he’d leaned his head against the door and was watching the world go by through the peeling
tint of the window.
I knew he was hot. I knew he got around. I knew he was the It
Boy of high school soccer for the entire state. Every adult in the school
bragged about the college scouts coming to look at him by sophomore year. I
knew he was struggling with his grades. He was in a panic and I suddenly
suspected it wasn’t just about the grades.
You know what they say: Takes one to know one.
“Is everything okay?” As if I was in a place to help anyone
out.
“Yeah. Everything’s fine.” He
didn’t even bother to turn and pretend to give me his attention. He just kept
staring out my window, letting me drive his butt to his friend’s party while
taking over my life to get him into his college of choice.
Whatever.
I’m not anyone’s social confessional.
“It’s about seeing Luke and Amy, isn’t it?” I just couldn’t
seem to help myself. Sometimes someone else’s mess makes yours disappear. Or at
least go into hiding. Like wearing a hat on a bad hair day. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t think it would hit you this
hard. You really don’t like losing, do you?”
He didn’t say anything, just kept looking out the window.
The silence kind of sat between us. I felt like one of those people in a bad
cop movie trapped on my side of the Plexiglass wall
without a two-way phone. After a minute, I turned the music on. Anything was
better than listening to him not talk.
I’d never been to Ben’s before, but I wasn’t about to
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