Sterling
His heated lips are acting as a magnet on my flushed skin, drawn to every hidden part of my body by some unexplainable force.
The reason for the attraction is something I cannot comprehend. It's something that just is such as the vast aquamarine ocean or the air that I breathe.
All I know is that my desire is greedy and I need more. His touch is tantalizing and it awakens every nerve ending on my skin as he trails his fingers from the swell of my breasts, down to my abdomen and then finally, to the damp spot between my legs.
"Oh, Jackson," I breathe as he enters me. I dig my fingernails into his shoulder blades, the urgency to have him insurmountable. Every second we have together is valuable, for our time spent twisting in between the bedsheets is fleeting.
Any minute, Jackson's sister, Gabby, could appear at the other side of the door.
"Don't stop," I moan as his thrusts pick up in intensity. A fiery warmth explodes within my belly and I know that I have achieved an orgasm. There is no doubt in my mind.
The stars dancing in my vision and the slight tremor in my legs confirm it.
Jackson collapses onto my chest and I stroke the blunt prickly ends of his buzzcut. "What now?" I ask.
He swallows. "We tell no one. This will be our secret."
The alarm shrills on my bedside table and the same dream that has visited me every night since my body began raging with hormones and puberty kicked in, dissipates in a cloud of blue smoke.
It's always cerulean blue. Never any other color. I am disappointed that the sexy story my brain has made up in my unconscious state is not my reality and that Jackson is not mine. But in my fantasies, the world is always painted in a golden filter.
I might love Jackson Moretti but I am certain that he does not love me. It's written in the way he always sighs loudly whenever I visit his sister, Gabriella, who is also my best friend.
"Can't I have one Friday night of peace?" He growls as he angrily tears into a piece of French bread with his teeth. "Whenever you two are together, you always giggle obnoxiously for hours on end as though you're hyenas. It's annoying."
His gaze flits over to me and even though the words are left suspended in the air, I am aware of what he doesn't say. Sterling is annoying.
I sigh as I nudge back my covers. It's the last day ever of high school and I'm surprising even myself by going. Rummaging around in my laundry basket, I pull out a tank top and my soft plaid flannel that I wrap around my waist.
I finish off the outfit by shimmying into a pair of denim shorts that I layer over my black ripped tights before pulling on my combat boots.
When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I briefly flinch. I never really get used to the sight of my bare eyelids and quickly cover them up with a heavy lining of smoky kohl. My hair is so blonde it's practically white and I pull it back into a messy ponytail.
This look is my uniform and I hardly ever stray from it. Not even for Prom.
I bound down the stairs and grab an orange from the fruit bowl on the table decorated with a lacey tablecloth and a vase of fresh daisies. "Have a good day, Dad," I wish my father, leaning in to give him a peck on the cheek.
My mother turns around from her place in front of the stove with a spatula in her hand to use for the omelet she's cooking, an expression of shock on her face. "You're going to school? On the last day?" She's in disbelief.
I scowl at her. "Yeah? What does it matter to you?" I don't mean to be surly but she grates on me.
"It doesn't," she mutters, flipping the egg. "It's just that it's always been a struggle to get you to attend on days that were of importance but when there's no need...here you are chipper and ready to go at the crack of dawn."
I roll my eyes. Hate is a strong word so I'll just say that I dislike my mother.
She turns back around and sweeps her gaze over my ensemble. "Do you need new tights?"
I glance down at my clothing. "No."
She gestures at me. "But those ones are all torn up."
"I ripped them myself," I grunt.
"Why?"
I wave my orange in the air. "Bye, Dad," I reply, ignoring her. "I love you."
He beams at me in response, pleased that he gets my angelic side. I don't catch my mother's reaction as I'm already out the door, the screen slamming shut behind me.
At school, Gabby greets me with a fistful of tissues. Her hair is a honeyed spiral of lush locks and her normally caramel colored skin tone is dulled down to a pale hue that lacks it's normal radiance.
"Are you alright?" I ask, eyeing her.
She nods, blowing her nose. "It's just allergies."
"Let's get some fresh air," I state, grabbing her hand and guiding her out into the courtyard.
She laughs. "I'm certain that the last thing my sinuses need is the outdoors but I'll follow you. I know you're just using your concern for my health as a guise to drool over the boys at the prep school."
"How dare you suggest such a thing?" I gasp even though she's not wrong. However, there's one male in particular that I'm seeking out. Jackson.
St Vincent's School for the Gifted sits adjacent to the public school and intersects with our quad.
And sure enough, Jackson is out on the lush green lawn, tossing around a football with some of his friends. His violin case sits on the sidelines and I close my eyes, imagining him serenading me with a love song from below my window.
The football pelts me in the head and my lids spring open. "Hey!" I shout at the cluster of laughing boys. "Watch what you're doing, you idiots or I'll string you all up by your balls."
Pouting, I rub at the growing lump on my head and face Gabby. "You know, for a school full of gifted males, they sure are dumb."
She giggles but doesn't disagree.
Jackson jogs over towards us to scoop up the ball. "Sorry," he mutters. He gives me a second glance and my heart stutters.
Does he have access to my brain? Is he aware of the naughty thoughts swirling around in there?
Perspiration beads on his brow as he gives me a broad grin.
Right before he plucks my water bottle from my fingers and chugs down the liquid within. "Thanks, Ster."
"You're such a Neanderthal!" I fire after him. "Try using your manners." But it's too late. He doesn't hear me. He's already gone and back hollering with his friends.
I blow out a breath, my stomach twisting in knots from our brief interaction. Gabby rolls her eyes. "My brother is the worst," she announces and I agree absentmindedly.
But I know it's not true. My fingers caress the rim of my water bottle where his lips had touched and I imagine it's my mouth instead.
But suddenly, I feel overcome with the intense desire to keep the game going. Was he flirting with me?
"Hey, Jackson!" I shout across the quad. He turns to glance at me, football in hand and arches a brow.
I charge towards him, picking up speed as I go. As my body slams into his, he falls backwards onto the grass with me sprawled out on top of him. It's a dream come to fruition.
He glares at me. "What the hell, Sterling? What was that for?"
"What?" I ask innocently. "Can't a girl play some tackle football?"
Our eyes lock and my breathing hammers a steady rhythmic beat inside my lungs. I'm certain that he can feel my heart beating wildly against his chest. Is it my imagination or is there the crackle of electricity in the air, humming between us?
With a crooked smile, he reaches up and brushes my hair from my face, fingering the tips. "You have grass in your ponytail," he says lazily, holding up the blade for me to inspect.
Disappointment swells inside of me.
"Oh." But I make no move to get off him. How easy it would be to lean in close and capture his lips with mine. How effortlessly I could turn my dreams into reality.
"Well, alright, already," he says, nudging me away. "Get off before the teachers see and suspect we're up to something else."
I wish we were.
I slide off him and he stands up, brushing stray pieces of grass from his navy blazer and khakis. With a shake of his head, he stoops down to pick up his violin case. "You're so annoying," he says with a smile before walking away with his buddies.
The rest of the day is spent in a hazy blush pink fog, fantasizing about Jackson's kissable lips, his caramel colored skin and the prominent bulge between his legs whenever he wears grey sweatpants. I shiver with arousal.
When the final bell clangs, Gabby meets me at my locker, her face the portrait of exhaustion and her cheeks even more ashen than the last time I had seen her.
I furrow my brows. "Are you certain you're feeling fine?" I question, raking my sights over her.
"I'm just tired," she states firmly but I have my doubts. "I'll go home, take a nap, and I'll be as good as new." She laughs but it's devoid of humor.
She slings one arm around my shoulder as we walk down the hallway towards the exit. "Oh, Sterling, I almost forgot to ask you. My family is spending the summer up in Maine at our lakeside cabin."
She turns her head to the side to cough before continuing. "I would love it if you would join us. It's highly important to me that we spend this last summer together." She pauses. "You know, before we go off to college."
"Yes." The words rush out of my mouth before she can barely finish her sentence and we both giggle.
"Excellent. I appreciate your enthusiasm."
She smiles and I feel a twinge of guilt that it's not my best friend that I'm bubbling with excitement to spend balmy summer nights on the dock with.
It's her brother, Jackson.
Goosebumps prick my arms at the thought of late evenings beneath the twinkling stars on the sandy shore of the lake as we exchange forbidden kisses.
I vow to myself right then and there that this summer will be the one when he finally stops viewing me as his sister's irritating friend and starts fantasizing about me as someone far more irresistible.
Question of the day: Do you think Sterling will be able to change Jackson's opinion of her?