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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12. Twelve

I stay for his game today, since it's kind of a big deal. The baseball team is playing against our enemies from Garton High School. I can't find a seat in the bleachers, so I stand by the fence. That's where I find my friend Nicole. I sit with her everyday at lunch, so I guess she's considered to be my closest friend, I don't have as many of those as I used to. 

We sit on the ground drinking canned lemonade, cheering at the appropriate times and hollering for home runs. When she starts talking about her hot foster brother, I tune her out. My eyes are too busy following the actions of number four. The way he practices his swing and how he pushes his damp hair back before he puts his helmet on. I pay attention to his white and red uniform, and how just days ago I was tugging it off of his impatient body. I look down to hide my smile, and Nicole says, "I know isn't that funny?" She laughs out loud. Whatever she said couldn't have been that funny.

But I still comment. "Hilarious."

 

When the game is over I prance my way over and lean my body against the fence. I'm grateful to be wearing my tightest pair of jeans today. Owens fingers are looped through one of the diamonds in the fence, and I touch them gingerly with mine. He's talking to one of his friends on the team, a different one from last week. His head snaps when he sees me, and the curve on his mouth immediately appears. His friend migrates away and I stand on my tip toes to reach his height. "Madame." He greets me with a nod and I curtsie in response to his hello. 

"Listen..." I bite my lip and he bites his. Part of me feels like this whole thing is going too far, that we're practically dating again. But we're not. Half of me wants to run away and sit in bed with black cherry ice cream and try to get over him all over again. But the bigger half of me wants to show him a good time. 

Bigger half wins.

"I was wondering if you wanna do something." I say, looking into his eyes. My words are slow and seductive to get him in the mood. But he isn't giving me much connection, like he's not focused. 

He takes his arm and wipes the sweat on his forehead. "Actually me and the guys were gonna go out and celebrate our win." He shakes his hair with just one hand. "I'm taking Ava."  He doesn't look at me in the face. 

"Oh, nice."  I consider walking away, and turning in the direction of my black cherry ice cream. But I just take a step back and flip through my options. Brave is what I choose. Undefeated. Demanding, with a little bit of bitch. "Cancel." I say sternly, and he looks at me then. All he does is smirk until he can find words. I bite on my nail, not in a nervous way, but sexy. He knows exactly what I'm doing. But he acts confused.

"What? I can't cancel." he laughs at me like I'm pathetic, and I realize what's happening. He just won a game, so he thinks he's superior. Typical Owen. He's the man because he swung a bat and threw a few balls. I want to punch him, or at least slap him, and the only thing stopping me is the fence between us. I can't let our history bother me, because I'll go crazy. That word rings in my ears after his next question. "Are you crazy? I can't just bail." 

I go with my gut and the words tumble out. "Let me know how much of a good time Ava shows you." I walk backwards for a few seconds, and then whip myself around with attitude. 

"Pres!" He calls after me, but I don't turn." What just happened?" He yells. I can hear metal jingling, and I picture him jumping the fence in my head. "Hey." I feel something catch my arm and I try to yank it back but his grip is too strong. He pulls me under the bleachers. "What is this about?" The way he was talking to me made me feel like my emotions were blowing this way out of proportion. 

I feel desperate all of a sudden, hormones I guess. My lower body gets closer to him, making him grunt in surprise. "Why are you taking Ava?" It comes out like word vomit, I don't even know if that's really what's bothering me. Maybe it is and my brain just isn't comprehending it. All I know right now is that my question totally ruins the growing mood. He pushes my figure away. 

"Don't tell me you're jealous." He scoffed. 

"I am NOT jealous, I just don't understand why you would take her when you have me."

"You're not my girlfriend, Presley." 

"And she is?" I say that a little too loud for his liking, because he looks around cautiously. 

"No she isn't either." He frowns, and rubs his eyes with two fingers. Like he's stressed, as if he doesn't know why I'm acting this way. "I don't want to fight with you right now" he puts his hands up between us, as if to protect himself from me. "I have to go." 

I watch as he joins his team, and they all huddle together, hooping and jumping in unison. I make fists with my hands so hard it hurts, and I feel prickling in my stomach.  I cross my arms against my chest and walk back toward the parking lot. Owen sees me slumping past him and his boys, and I look... 

Defeated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black cherry ice cream, you'll always be my number one. I shove the spoon in my mouth, and drag it on my tongue. James called me two minutes ago saying they offered him extra hours again for tonight. This is my dinner, and I'm okay with that. 

The doorbell rings six times in a row. Quickly, like a gun shooting bullets. Before I got up, I thought about telling the person to go away. I have to get the sprinkles anyway, so I push myself off the couch. I swing the door open, and it takes a second for me to focus on who it is. 

"Pres." I just stare at him for a second, but I dont let him in. "I'm sorry I acted like that." he huffs. He holds something in his hand,a bag, and his other hand is in his pocket. He hands the bag to me. "I brought you food from the restaurant." his head is down, and I still haven't said one word. "I left early."

"Why?" my voice was hoarse when I said it, like a frog trying to croak. 

"Because," Owen steps forward and grabs my waist, gripping the silky texture of my robe. "I was thinking about you." He leans, and dips his face into my nape. "And your neck." He kisses my skin with hungry kisses and his hand travels to backside. "And your butt." He laughs, warming the skin below my ear. He squeezes, getting a gasp out of me, and I drop the bag on the floor. I force myself to kiss him hard, but my head is screaming what are you doing?!

I moan, and he moans, and suddenly things are going fast. He knows where my room is because he's been here before. Whenever James was at work he'd come over and we'd study on the floor of my room with popcorn and pretzels. He pushes me so I walking backwards, and tugs my robe off. Once he gets his clothes off we fall onto the bed, him on top of me. 

This time is different. I making more noises that I can't hold back. When he bites my neck I'm whimpering, and when he skims between my legs I have to stop myself from screaming. So I settle with a really loud groan. His breaths are shakier than when we were in his room, on his bed. As he kisses my chest I have my fingers in his hair, and I start thinking about how our last conversation was an argument. And now he's here and everything is all right. I guess that's how the 'friends with benefits' thing works. But we know each other too much for me to be unbothered. But I go through with the sex anyway, because I wanted it too much before to reject it now. Am I thinking too much? I'm thinking to much. Just kiss him, Presley. 

I want to sleep, and I know he does too. But James is gonna walk through that front door any minute. If my brother sees Owen, who knows what he'll do. He still hasn't spoken about my big mouth comment from the other day. "Owen.." I groggily say, letting my hands find his neck. We're facing each other, but we both have our eyes closed. 

"Hmm..." He pulls my body closer to his, and I open my eyes. His lazy smile makes me want to kiss him, but instead I touch my fingers to his mouth. I trace his lips and he lets me. 

"You have to go." I whisper. He groans in agony, holding me tightly. Our noses are touching and I wait for his eyes to finally open. "Unless you wanna get your ass kicked by my brother." They open, revealing the frosty blue I crave. He takes his time to get up, and hands me my robe. My mind is silent, and I hum as the purple fabric is wrapped around my figure. Owen yawns, then I yawn, and we chuckle. When I stand up to walk him out, I hear the lock fumbling on the door. "Shit." I roll my eyes with gritted teeth, looking for a place to hide Owen. Before I can force myself to think, he's already behind our bulky curtains. 

James barges in, and before he can see the bag of food on the floor, I squat down and grab it. He kisses my cheek and makes his way to the kitchen. He would still be able to see if Owen made an escape now. My hands are shaking, but he doesn't notice. 

Twenty minutes later, my brother has turned on the TV, done the dishes, made himself a huge sandwich and eaten a banana. I sitting on the couch, tense. My shoulders relax when he finally says, "I'm gonna change out of these clothes." and hes gone. I sigh in relief, and scurry to grab Owen's hand. He's laughing, and I hit him in the chest, harder than intended. I shoo him out and he kisses me. Before he could walk away, I grab his under shirt thats peeking from his open jersey, and kiss him again. He smiles against my mouth and his tongue lingers with mine. I peck at his lips one more time and push him away, closing the door between us. 

James was on his way down the hallway, and we both sat at the dining table. I quietly searched through the white bag, pulling out a styrofoam container. From the looks of the salad in front of me, Owen must have went out of his way to order this for me, because this isn't what he'd eat. I smiled at the thought of him thinking of me. And it disappeared when I saw James looking at me. Staring actually. "Where'd you get the food, P?" he made it sound like such a casual question, very nonchalant. He picked up his sandwhich and took a big bite, his eyebrows risen in amusement as he waited for my answer. 

"Me and Nicole went and ordered it after the baseball game." My response was just as casual, and I was proud of myself for playing it off well. 

"You're not good at hiding boys, P." He smiles evilly as he chews, and I clamp my jaw shut. I bashfully keep my head down and smirk just a little bit. 

I eat my salad in silence. 

 

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