After hours of watching superhero movies- we only got through three-, playing three rounds of Twister, eating microwaved s'mores, and having vodka mixed with Coke, we settle down for bed at 12:30. The guys are taking the basement while Aliza, Faith, and I take the living room. The T.V. is off and the curtains are drawn, making the room extra dark.
I lay on my sleeping bag, head spinning and heart pounding from tonight. I haven't been to a sleepover since the beginning of the school year when Ally invited The Clique over and we had a dance party and drank champagne she managed to swipe from her dad's wine cellar in the basement. We had played Ouija and made words like "penis" and "bang".
Aliza's foot is in my face as she lays sprawled out on the blanket she spread out, sleeping peacefully. "Amanda?" Faith whispers. She's next to me, laying on her hands.
"Yeah?" I say.
"You still awake?"
"Yeah."
"Good," she asks, scooting closer to me. I can smell lavender-scented lotion and a smokey-kind of scent that smells like the living room on her skin. "I have to tell you something," she whispers. She scoots closer and leans in, cupping her hand around my ear. "I know you like my brother," she whispers.
I feel my heart stop at that moment and I look at her, expecting her to be giving me the evil eye. "You do?" I ask.
I see her nod, even in the dark. "He likes you too," she says.
I feel my heart pound against my ribs. "He does?" I ask, breathlessly. I can feel a victory dance coming on. He likes me! I haven't been this happy since he first talked me at the party.
"Yeah. He's liked you since sixth grade," she asks.
My eyes widen in the darkness. That long? Even with my braces? I feel bad for not noticing him enough back then since I was too busy paying attention to Ricky, who didn't even want anything to do with me.
"That was the reason I invited you here tonight," she says. "I wanted you guys to hook up."
"Well, we almost did," I say, and I tell her about the kiss we almost had in the kitchen.
Faith rolls her eyes when I'm done. "Anthony is the one to ruin moments like that," she says. "Anyway, I also invited you because I like you, Amanda. I think you're a really cool girl."
I grin like I just won a prize or something, but then it quickly falls away. "Do you mean it?" I ask.
"Huh?"
"Do you mean what you said?" I'm looking down at my sleeping bag, clutching it to keep from crying. "Are you just saying that because if you're not nice to me then The Clique will beat you up or something?"
"What are you talking about?" Faith asks, concern and confusion consuming her voice.
"Just say it," I say, a large lump in my throat forming. "I know that I'm rude and obnoxious. I'm a bitch. I'm a loser. Why...why are you guys so nice to me? I'm...I'm nothing." We're silent for a second as I do my best not to cry.
"You're not a bitch, Amanda," Faith finally says. "And you're not a loser. I admit, back in freshmen year, I didn't like you, but Oliver did. He knew you were different from the rest, and I took his word for it. When he told me about you talking to him at the party and the ride home in his car, he was ecstatic. I admit, I was a little unsure of you coming to the movies with us, but when I saw you smiling and talking to Oliver, I knew I would like you because Oliver liked you."
Even in the dark, I see her smile and I feel her take my hand. She catches me off guard as she presses her lips to my cheek and pulls away a second later. "Don't doubt yourself, Amanda," she whispers, and there's a rustling noise before silence settles in the room again.
I sit there for a few minutes with tears leaking out of my eyes before my eyes get droopy and sleepy and sleep overcomes me.
***********************
The next morning, I'm awaken by the smell of sausage, and my stomach makes a dying whale noise. I blink a few times as sleep disappears from me and look around.
I'm in Oliver and Faith's living room, on the floor. Faith is beside me with her mouth parted, her arm slung over my stomach while Aliza's leg is slung over my left shoulder and her mouth is hanging open.
I gently take her leg off my shoulder and Faith's arm off my stomach as I sit up and stretch. The room is flooded in a weak gray light. I stand up, wobbling little as I try to regain my footing. I look at the clock. 8:00. Two hours until 10:00 when Im supposed to be home. I'm so tired, I don't even feel like changing to come home. But then I remember I'm wearing Oliver's clothes and dump the idea.
I rub my eyes and yawn as I follow the delicious smell to the kitchen where T.J. is sitting at the bar stool, eating pancakes and sausage, and Oliver is making breakfast at the stove. God, he even looks hot in the morning. His hair is disheveled and his reading glasses make the morning look even sexier.
When he sees me, he smiles. "Good morning," he says.
" 'Morning," T.J. says with a mouthful of pancake.
"Good morning," I say to both of them as I walk into the kitchen.
"Made some breakfast," Oliver says, revealing him flipping some bacon over.
"Better than my mom's cooking, that's for sure," he says, and then I hear him gulp. "Don't tell her I said that," he says, looking at Oliver seriously.
Oliver laughs and shakes his head before going back to work. "Hungry?" he asks, turning to me.
I nod, afraid to open my mouth. I was never the morning person. He takes a plate and puts two pancakes, three sausages, and two strips of bacon on the plate. So he cooks, draws, and skateboards. Hot. He hands me the plate and I thank him before sitting on the bar stool next to T.J. I pour myself some orange juice in a plastic cup and gulp some of it down before digging in. This food is so good, it's like heaven.
I'm halfway through my second pancake when I hear footsteps coming into the kitchen. I look up from my plate to see Faith walking slowly into the kitchen, her hair a wild mess and her eyes half-closed. She looks how I do in the morning, only worse.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Oliver says when he sees her.
"Food," she moans before wrapping her arms around Oliver's neck and leaning on him.
"Poor Faith," T.J. says. "She looks like a zombie."
Oliver swats her hands away from stove with his spatula as she reaches for the hash browns he's making. He's really going all out today. A few minutes later, after everyone is up and eating breakfast, I'm stuffed and put my plate in the sink. Afterwards, I call Dad, telling I'm I'll be home soon.
"Did you have good time?" he asks. "Awesome time," I say. "I'll tell you all about it when I come home if I don't die of exhaustion first."
After we hang up, I hang out with Faith and T.J. on the couch, watching "My Little Pony" since the kid shows are on this morning. a plain blue shirt and clean jeans with clean socks I brought with me and sneakers.
When I come back downstairs, I hear a series of moans and chainsaw sounds along with loud voices and footsteps. 'What the hell?' I think. I thump down the stairs to see T.J. and Faith playing a video game. Their fingers run rapidly over the controls connected to the cable box. When I get down the stairs, I see that they're playing some zombie game.
"Amanda," T.J. says, "you've gotta play this game."
I look at the clock. 9:54. "I really have to get home," I say, but the truth is, I want to play. It looks awesome!
"Come on," Faith says. "You have five minutes! We'll play a fast match. Come, Amanda. Come sit by your friend, Faith."
I bite my lip, over thinking it before the voice that's screaming, "Play it!" overtakes me and I sit between T.J. and Faith.
"You can play me," Faith says, handing me her controller. "You press A for your chainsaw, gun, and axe since those are the weapons I picked. If you want to reload your gun, press B, and if you want to go to menu, just press C."
T.J. presses the "Play" button, and I'm suddenly attacked by a zombie with a broken jaw. I shriek and press A for my gun. The bullet goes through the zombies chest and it collapses to the ground. I press the up arrow to run and I find another zombie trying to eat a woman's brain and shoot at him, getting him in the forehead.
After eight minutes of playing- I was too wrapped up in the game and it's awesomeness to notice five minutes passed-, I get up, my fingers aching from playing and my cheeks hurting from grinning so much, I decide to finally leave before Dad causes a fit.
Oliver walks me outside after he puts on some socks, waving off when I say I didn't want to trouble him and Anthony pointing out he's still in his pajamas and he'll freeze in that tank top of his. He walks me to the truck and I unlock, hearing a satisfying beep before turning back around to face Oliver.
"I had a great time last night, Oliver," I say. "Thanks for inviting me."
"No problem," he says.
We're silent again, the only sound the rushing of cars. I look at Oliver, and think back to what Faith said to me last night, making butterflies form in my stomach. Now that I know he likes me, I shouldn't have a problem asking him out. "Um, Oliver?" He looks up at me, his arms crossed, making it easy to see his biceps bulge out. I lock my hands behind my back as I lean against the truck, resisting the urge to touch and run my fingers down his arms or through his messy hair, but the urge is so overwhelming it's ridiculous.
"Listen," I say softly. "If you're not busy this Friday night, um, I was thinking that maybe we could hang out. Get something to eat or something. Or we could go see a movie...if you want." The butterflies in my stomach has turned to demon butterflies, eating at my insides as I wait for his answer. Finally, he smiles bigger and brighter than I've ever seen him smile, his dimples and teeth showing perfectly. It's the warmest thing here besides my coat on this cold morning.
"I'd like that," he says. His smile is so warm I can't help smiling back.
He moves towards me, and I freeze. Is he going to do it? Is he going to take this chance to do it when no one's around to interrupt us? But then he grabs the handle of the truck instead. I go to scoot out of the way, but he lays his other hand flat against the window on my side, just like he did last night in the kitchen. There's no way I can move now that's he trapped me between him and the truck.
He closes the distance between us just a few inches. His gaze flicks from my eyes to my lips, and my fingers disobey me and do what they wanted to do a few minutes ago. I run my fingers down his arms, savoring the feel of his muscles. Then I put my hands on his waist which brings him a bit closer to me. He lets out a shuddering breath and moves to whisper in my ear, "Thanks for coming, Amanda." He then presses his lips against my cheek. It's not a quick peck like Ricky usually does, but a long, soft, sweet, warm kiss like what Faith did last night. I close my eyes, sealing this moment away into my memory as one of those moments when I was blissfully happy.
After he leaves, I get into the car and wait until Oliver's safely in the house to start freaking out.
************************
The ride home is like a dream. I get Dad's pickup truck home without a scratch and when I get inside, I tell them about the sleepover minus forgetting my sleeping gear and borrowing Oliver's, the almost-kiss in the kitchen, and the kiss on the cheek this morning. My cheek is still tingling from his lips.
Afterwards, I decide to go back to sleep since I have nothing to do. I take of my clothes and sneakers, leaving my socks on, put on a T-shirt and crawl under my covers for a peaceful nap. That is until I'm woken up five minutes later by my phone. I scream in frustration into my pillow and sit up, my hair in my face as I look down at my cell phone on the dresser. Ally's name glares back at me. I reach for it and begin to press the answer button when my phone slips from my fingers and falls on the floor.
"Shit!" I fly out from under my covers and pick up my poor phone. When I turn it over, I see that the screen is cracked and has gone dark. Dammit! My day was just getting good, and then I drop my freaking phone?! What the hell am I supposed to do with a broken cell phone?! But to my surprised, Ally's name comes back up again and I say a silent thank you to God before answering. "What, Ally?" I ask, kind of pissed at dropping my phone and for her interrupting my sleep.
"Amanda!" she yells into the phone, nearly bursting my eardrum.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"Meet me at McDonalds at 1:00," she says. "It's an emergency!"
"What's an emergency?" I ask. "What's the matter?"
"No time," she says. "Just be there!"
"But, Ally-"
She hangs up before I can finish. I sigh and throw my phone on the bed. I'm tried as hell, but if this "emergency" is as bad as Ally makes it sound, then I better get up.
*******************************
I walk to McDonalds since I've already went through being seen in Dad's pickup truck and I could use the cold to wake me up. I push open the door to McDonalds and I'm hit with the smell of grease.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I take it out. "On your left," the text from Ally says. I look to my let to see Ally waving at me from a booth by the window. I walk over to her and sit down. She's already ordered for us; a Sprite and French fries with ketchup for her and a Coke and a Big Mac for me. She knows me so well. "So what's the problem?" I ask, sipping my Coke.
"Okay," Ally says, "don't freak out, but I was on my way to Rose and Lily's house, right?"
I nod, taking another sip of my Coke.
"And you know that Ashley Marks lives a block away from them, right?" I nod, wanting her to get to the point. "So I was driving," she says, "but then I had to stop because of a car parking in front of me, and when I stopped, I saw a boy coming out of Ashley Marks' house...and it looked like Ricky."
I choke on my drink, nearly spitting it out as I trying to piece together what Ally just said. "What?" I choke out during my coughing.
"I saw Ricky coming out of Ashley Marks' house," Ally says.
"Are you sure it was Ricky?" I ask. "Positive," she answers without hesitation.
"How close were you?" I ask.
She doesn't answer right away. "Close enough."
"Ally, if you weren't right in front of her house then how do you know it was him?" I ask.
"I knew it was him," Ally says, looking up at me. "Short hair, tanish skin, buffness."
I roll my eyes. "Ally, that could've been anyone," I say. "Almost every boy at school looks like that."
"Why don't you believe me?" she asks, and she looks sad and betrayed.
I sigh and put my hand over hers on the table. "It's not that I don't believe you," I say, "but I want to be able to see a sign of Ricky cheating with my own eyes. Plus, you always were the one to be dramatic."
She gasps, putting a hand over her heart. "I am not!" she says.
"You're doing it right now!" I say. "But, listen. I may break up with Ricky tomorrow at school."
Ally gasps, her hand covering her mouth as if I just said a swear word. "Why?" she asks.
"I just think our relationship has gotten...stale," I say. "He hasn't been paying any attention to me, he's always flirting with other girls and looking at their butts even when he thinks I don't see it-"
"Oh, well, if he's doing that, you should totally break up with him," Ally says, eating a fry.
"And he's never around anymore," I say, realizing the words are true after they leave my mouth. "He never picks up the phone anymore and he's always with his friends."
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ally asks. "I always thought you guys were cute together."
"I'm sure," I say. "Plus, if he's cheating, I may as well break up with him now before it's too late."
"Good point," she says, sipping her Sprite.
After our lunch, Ally offers to drive me home, but I wave her offer off. I need to think a little bit. I walk quickly, the cold burning my eyes, stinging my cheeks.
If Ricky is cheating on me, with or without Lindsay, how could he do this to me? Am I that ugly? Am I that gross that he has to sneak around with another girl? And if he is cheating on me with Lindsay, how could Lindsay do this to me? She's my best friend, and she's sleeping with my boyfriend?! Really?!
I sigh and sit down on a bench at a bus station next to a guy with headphones. Ricky never really paid attention to me after the dance. I mean he did give me hugs and wrap his arm around me in the hallways, but if he sat next to me at lunch, his friends would always come over too. And if I want to come over or spend time with him, it's always, "Sorry. I have football practice." "Sorry. I have to help my mom with something." "Sorry. I broke my ankle."
Excuses, excuses, excuses.
And then there's Oliver. Sweet, innocent, sexy little Oliver. The boy who offered to ride me home and opened his car door for me in the pouring rain. The boy who wanted me to meet his friends and come with them to the movies. The boy who invited me over to his sleepover. The boy who kissed my cheek this morning. The boy who liked me since sixth grade when I was nothing.
And then it hits me like the bus that pulls up in front of me a minute later.
I'm in love with Oliver Lockwood.