HISTORY

Look at the way he's stacking up the wood, like he's some type of macho man. Obviously trying to impress me. He's completely clueless that he's overrated in my mind. And his jeans are way too tight. You know, he's not as hot as he thinks he is with sweat dripping down his forehead. And his neck. And his chest. And- Stop it.

... News flash, Owen. We're history.

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8. Eight

We're standing outside of my building, staring at each other. "Thanks for walking me." 

"Mmhmm." he smiles, and he starts leaning in. 

"Woah woah hey." I put my hands on his chest and  I tense up nervously. "Friends don't kiss." 

"Sure they do." He pulls me by my waist and holds me way too close. Our kiss lasts a while, only because I don't wanna pull away. The way his lips press smoothly against mine, and part at the perfect moments. His hands squeeze at just the right times, not too hard and not too soft. "See? We're just friends." He says as soon as he pulls away. His eyes are still closed and our noses are pressed together. The look on his face shows nothing but bliss, pure lust. I drift away because I'm suddenly embarrassed, and wipe my the corners of my mouth. My left hand still wrapped loosely around his neck. I take another look at him and realize that I really wanna do it again. My arm slips down slowly by my side while I begin to lean again. 

"Uh-huh, just friends." I kiss him hard again, not meaning to groan in his mouth. It's quick but effective, enough to leave him flustered when I let go of him. His hands release me and I wipe my mouth again. He grins. Then I leave him and run inside to stop myself from leaping on him again. My breath has been taken away from me and my hand remains clamped over my mouth during the duration of my elevator ride. I'm probably pink, and I wouldn't be surprised if the bald guy next to me was expecting me to barf. But I was smiling under my hand. 

 

"James, I'm home!" I drop my purse on the floor and flop onto the couch. 

"P, where've you been? I got out early today, I thought we could go out for a bite." 

"Sorry, I was with an old friend from school. We were catching up." I smile hard, and it's a good thing he's not looking at me. He'd know something is up if he saw the curve on my face. His face changes, and he looks like an old thought just popped into his head.

"How's your friend? You know, the one that got you to the hospital when you hit your head?" He stops gathering the mail to think for a second. "Omar, right?" then he looks at me. 

"Um, yeah he's good. We talk here and there. He's a good friend." I hold in my grin until he turns his attention to an unopened envelope. He files all of it into the basket on the wall and claps, rubbing his hands together in success before turning to me again. 

"Let's eat." 

~~~
 

~~~~

For the rest of that week, we'd made out in the bathroom twice, once in the band hall, and four times under the bleachers before Owen's baseball practice. I told him I'd stay for math tutoring today so I can meet him on the field. All day I looked forward to seeing him sweaty in his uniform. Just the thought of it makes me crazy. 

I swat the flies away and lean myself against the green fence, watching each player take turns pitching. The coach announces a team group up, and I stare at Owen until the guys are dismissed. My eyes take note of the way his baseball cap perfectly fits around his freshly cut hair. His jersey is unbuttoned at the top and there's new sweat beads on his neck. His mouth quickly twitches into a grin when he sees me, and I start toward him. It's just my reaction to stop when another player catches up to him. Not too far from his warmth now. It's affecting me like heroine, and only one word is flashing in my head. Loud and bright, a siren.

Crave.    

"Hey Owen, I heard you're with your ex again." I'm close enough to hear the conversation between Owen and his teammate, but I do a good job at acting like I'm not listening. 

"Nah man, we're just friends." I glance at him and he winks, making me look away with a smile. 

"That's not what I heard." The guy takes off his hat and stares at me from several feet away. I smile because he looks embarrassed. He clearly had no clue that I was standing five feet away. 

"Trust me," Owen spoke as if his voice wasn't ready, and his rasp is strong. "Me and her... We're history." they both look at me, almost in awe. I take this time to move my feet forward without thinking. Left. Right. Left. Right. I keep breathing steadily, and I'm surprised at how I took his comment. I feel the same way, I know we're done, and this fling is still numb to me. I don't know how to feel about it only because I don't know how he feels about it. So I keep myself content enough to not think about it all the time. 

Owen and I are close now, and his eyes are set on my lips. He slaps his friend on the shoulder and slings his arm around my neck. My limb swings low to grab his hip on the opposite side. My head tilts to look up at him, a hazy smile settled on my face as we walk to his van. I guess his mom stays home all the time, so he gets to drive it to school now. "I want ice cream." he tells me, once we're settled in the car. And he drives off. 

We get soft serve. His chocolate. Mine vanilla. He smears it all over his face purposely so I can kiss it off. And he pushes my cone into my face, laughing. Then he grabs my face with his chocolaty hand and starts sucking on my cheek. We're sitting under a huge red umbrella in front of the ice cream parlor, on a cold metal bench. Our little frolic fest quickly becomes infested with short moans and giggles. Gasps and grumbles. We have one leg on each side of the bench, facing one another. Our knees are touching until he pulls me forward so that my legs were resting on his thighs. I'm wearing a short skirt, but my business is not exposed to the people around us. Only him. And we both seemed to be totally okay with that. My teenage hormones can't help but notice how close our crotches are, and this whole thing is so tempting that it makes me want to rip my hair out. "You know you're hot right?" He whispers closely in my ear. By now our ice cream is eaten and our faces are licked clean. I don't look at him when he says those words. I just look up at the sky, a sarcastic grin spreading on my lips. The clouds are getting dark, like it's gonna rain. The sky's not as blue as it was this morning on my way to school. It's such deep gray now. 

"Hmm, am I?'" I finally answer, looking into his eyes. I have my head tilted to one side, and my lip caught in my teeth. I didn't know I was capable of such sexiness. I never did any of this with Hank, or Owen for that matter. He isn't used to this from me. I increase the anticipation, leaning in to whisper in his ear. I allow myself to freeze for a second and let out a breath of hot air. He releases something between and gasp and a chuckle. "And why is that?" his hand is rested in between my thighs. I guess you can say that we're being some-what inappropriate for a public place. I squeeze at his baseball jersey. 

"You know what sounds good right now?" he huffs impatiently, the rasp in his voice pumping my adrenaline. 

"Hmm." My lips trail against his ear lobe. I want to bite it, but I don't dare.

"My bed." I giggle at his response, dropping my head on his shoulder. 

"I was thinking the same thing." We stare at each other, smiling. Both of us are surprised at my answer. 

I get up and walk to his van without him, waiting for him to follow. 

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