How was your game last night?
I read the text from Dante and smiled slightly. I pushed my lunch tray out of the way so I could text him back with my elbows on the table.
I responded back with, Pretty good. We won 5-2 so that was nice. How about you?
I stared at my phone, not bothering to put it down as I waited for Dante to reply. I wasn't left waiting for long as he sent me a new message after just a minute.
Congrats, man! Beat Palisades 7-5 it was a good game. Rough but good.
I was pulled out of my little private world when someone shoved me unceremoniously. I almost toppled out of my chair, but I caught myself by grabbing the edge of the table.
"Dude," Nathan snapped at me. I glared at him, realizing he had been the one who had pushed me. "Why are you staring at your phone like that?"
"Like what?" I asked, clearly irritated by the rude interruption.
"All happy and shit," Nathan answered. "Smiling and whatever."
"You talking to a girl?" Anthony teased from across the table.
He made a grab for my phone but I pulled it away instantly. There was no way in hell I would ever let one of these idiots touch my phone. If they saw the kind of stuff Dante and I talked about--if they even knew we talked at all--everything would change. I would be so screwed. Not to mention, it would be embarrassing.
"Nah, man," I said, trying to stay casual.
Andrew smirked at me from his seat next to Anthony. "I bet you are. Got a girlfriend you ain't telling us about?"
"Or a boyfriend!" someone called down the long table.
I snapped my head to look and, yep, it was Dakota. I glared at him. We both knew that under these circumstances--while my friends were joking around with me--no one would think he was serious. But still. He was acting like a massive douche by even saying something like that.
"Fuck off, Spicer," Anthony snapped, throwing a fry at the boy a few seats away. He turned to look at me, ignoring Dakota completely now. "Serious talk now, though. Party tonight."
He grinned and the entire table immediately started talking louder. It was like the mere mention of a party got everyone riled up. I couldn't really relate since I thought they were death traps waiting to happen and didn't really enjoy them all that much. I did my best not to roll my eyes at everyone, though.
"Your ass better be there this time, Sinclair," Anthony threatened with one of his crispy fries.
Nathan nudged me and gave me a solemn look. "If you're not there, we have a whole kidnapping scenario all planned out. There's no way you're staying home tonight."
"Yeah, dude," Andrew said. "You can't miss topless, soaking wet girls two weekends in a row."
I scoffed. "As if any of you could get another girl to do that. Natasha was probably wasted."
Nathan shrugged at me. "Probably. I know I was. How else do you think we'd have ended up having sex in my car afterwards?"
"You do realize that's not something to brag about? Having to get a hot girl drunk in order to do you?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
He narrowed his eyes at me and then most of the guys around us erupted in laughter. I hadn't even been trying to be funny. It was only the truth. Nathan mocked us and punched me really hard on the arm so I hit him back before things started to die down. All the guys went back to talking about the party and the details about where it was.
I left lunch a couple minutes early by myself saying I was going to the bathroom when really I wanted to be able to text Dante back in privacy. With ten guys from the team staring over my shoulder and watching my every move for the entire lunch period, it was impossible to do anything. That was the kind of thing that drove me nuts about being captain.
Of course I liked the responsibility and the leadership part of it, but not the scrutinization. It was like these guys studied everything I did and then copied it. Not to be full of myself or anything, but it seemed like they were always waiting to see what I did first. It got on my nerves a lot. Nobody wanted a clone and I felt like I had at least a dozen of them.
My four closest friends weren't bad. We were just so alike because we all genuinely liked the same things. Even the rest of the seniors were pretty alright. It was mostly the underclassmen, especially the freshman, who were the worst.
I understood that they wanted to look up to someone and to fit in, but following me around like lost puppies wasn't helping anything. They tried way too hard to be cool and be my friends, too. Half the crap they said made them sound like idiots anyway.
I wandered into the building my next class was in and pulled my phone out again once I was safe from anyone's view. Dante hadn't texted me again, so I sent him a new message.
My friends are making me go to a party tonight in Rancho Palos. Hoping you'll be there..
I had to wait a few minutes before Dante finally sent me a reply. I frowned as I read it.
Sorry, can't. Promised Drea I'd go to her softball game. Taking her out for dinner after.
I cursed under my breath in disappointment. Drea was one of his three younger sisters. He was the oldest of four kids and he was extremely protective of them. Especially now that all three were in the dating age. Drea was sixteen, Dahlia was fifteen, and Daisy was thirteen. They were all very pretty with the same dark-blue eyes as Dante, and dark-blonde hair.
Damn, was all I sent back. And I meant it. If I had to go to a party, Dante was the first person I'd want to be there with me.
Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?
I sighed, and started typing. Dinner at my grandparents' in Santa Barbara.
The warning bell went off and I walked into my History classroom. I tried not to look so annoyed by the fact that I couldn't spend the weekend with Dante as I took my seat in the middle of the room. I dropped my bag heavily onto the floor and my phone buzzed on top of the desk.
Next week, then?
I gently bit the inside of my bottom lip. Yeah sure, I guess.
The classroom was almost full of other students by now. I checked the clock that was up on the wall. Class was starting in about two minutes. The teacher walked into the classroom at the same time Dante got around to responding.
Call me when you get home tomorrow night.
K, I typed. Then the teacher started to address us, and I had to shove my phone back into my pocket or risk getting it taken away.
Irritation was probably the best way to describe how I was feeling for the rest of the day. If you asked me, it was a pretty crappy way to spend your Friday. But at least I was able to let out the majority of my frustration by the time lacrosse practice was over. Then all the leftover stress I was feeling was washed away in the steaming hot shower I'd taken once I'd finally got home.
All of it was kind of pointless, though, because I was cranky again by the time I had to drive to the party. I really, really didn't even want to go, but I'd rather have a bad night brushing off my friends and girls than have people get suspicious of me being wrapped up in some bizarre relationship with our team's biggest rival. That was why I sucked it up and went to the stupid party. That was why I always did.
I'd lost track of the number of beers I'd had by the time it was eleven. But I felt like I deserved it. They helped me lose some of the tension and just relax. I knew it wasn't really responsible of me to get drunk, but it just made me feel so much better about everything. Besides, it wasn't like I did this that often. Half the time I went out I never drank anything. So in my opinion, this time was completely justified.
I left the crowded kitchen behind and started walking down a hallway, hoping to get away from some of the noise. I was beginning to get a headache. The hall wasn't completely empty as it seemed one of the house's--probably--many bathrooms was down this way. There was maybe a handful of people standing there.
I sighed and spun on my heel, considering to try going outside to see if fresh air would make me feel less sick. I ran into someone and dropped my drink, splashing beer all over our shoes.
"Shit!" I yelled. I could feel the bass from the music thumping in my chest. My eyes seemed heavy as I grazed them over the face of the guy I'd run into. "Ah, shit, not you."
Dakota laughed. He actually laughed. I looked at him in confusion before realizing that he was actually about as drunk as I was. "Don't look so hap--," hiccup, "--happy to see me, Sinclair."
"Whatever, dude," I slurred slightly. I gestured to the door behind him. "I'm going outside."
I went to walk passed him, my dropped cup of beer already forgotten, but he grabbed my arm tightly. "No, wait. Hold on."
I stared down at my arm as if there were an alien holding onto me and not this gorgeous boy's strong hand. "Why are you touching me?"
"We should hang out more," Dakota said, calling over the music. He hiccupped again and I had an unfamiliar urge to smile. I didn't, though.
"Sure, okay," I said, not really caring about what I was agreeing to. "When?"
"Now's good."
My eyes widened and I blinked at him. "Now? Like now, now?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, duh. Are you deaf from all of this loud music?"
I scowled and noticed for the first time that he was the exact same height as me. He was still holding onto my arm. "No. What did you want to--?"
"Come with me," he said, effectively cutting off the rest of my question.
I stuck my tongue out at him because I literally was that drunk. He shushed me--which made no sense whatsoever--and pulled me away from the hallway and towards a huge staircase. In my alcohol-muddled mind, I didn't protest to what he was doing even though I was really confused as he led me upstairs and then into a vacant bedroom. I still didn't question anything when he closed the door, locked it and then stepped even closer to me.
All I could think was that the quiet from being so far away from the music was actually really nice. I could feel my headache already beginning to ease.
Without any warning, Dakota stepped up so he was only a few inches away from me. Then in a dragged out sentence, broken apart by a couple of hiccups, he said, "I...have liked you...for so long."
The sound of his voice was like a foghorn ripping through the middle of the night in the silence of the bedroom. His words startled me and I was sure there was no real meaning behind them. Dakota simply spit out random words that happened to fall perfectly into that order to form a sentence.
His sea-coloured eyes wandered all over my face and somehow I immediately knew my assumption was wrong. Dakota knew what he said. He looked like he meant it. He hiccupped once more. Then again.
I felt dizzy as I stared into his eyes. "You...say what now?"
Dakota moved his hands so he had a hold of each of my arms, above my elbows. "Yeah, for like four years now. Couldn't stop thinking about you since freshman year. You're just so awesome."
I started laughing. I couldn't help it. Apparently that was just how I acted when I got drunk. I laughed when people told me they liked me. Was I stupid?
Dakota gave me a lazy smile and I diminished my laughter down to nervous, drunken giggles. The other boy hiccupped yet again and I grinned and put my fingers over his mouth, feeling the curve of his lips beneath them. There was something I liked about whenever that noise bubbled up from his throat and out of his mouth.
"Stop doing that," I said. "It's stupidly adorable."
"Sorry," he mumbled against my fingers. "Happens when I drink too fast and when I'm nervous."
I slid my hand down to his shoulder. "You're nervous?"
He grew serious and that made me nervous. "Extremely."
"Why?" I whispered.
"'Cause you think I'm a total dick now. And I'm not really, I swear. I just get jealous like super easy. And you suck Dante's dick in your free time. Like that's so not cool, Sinclair."
I furrowed my brows. Everything Dakota was saying was confusing me further. "Why not?"
"'Cause I'd rather it be me; with you. I've just been crazy for you since forever," he said, running his hands up to my shoulders. His thumbs brushed over my collarbones and I shivered, knowing I was way too close to losing every last shred of self control. "I wanna be yours but you've got Dante."
Dakota practically spit out the other boy's name. It was weird hearing all of this, but for some reason I wasn't freaking out. I felt strangely calm even though Dakota seemed to be on the verge of having some kind of breakdown. Maybe it was because our last few interactions were finally making sense.
"Is that why you threw a fit on Monday?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
Dakota nodded slightly, not giving me any more than that.
"We're not exclusive," I said without thinking. And I realized that I really was stupid. The only reason I could think for why I had said that was because I could hear Dante saying those exact words in my head over and over.
Dakota moved one of his hands quite cautiously and grabbed the back of my neck in response to my statement. My heart rate picked up. I glanced down at his lips before I could stop it. And when I looked back up, his eyes were wide with a single question I could almost hear him asking inside his head.
Dakota was waiting for an answer, though. But I didn't give him a proper one. Instead, like the idiot I was, I grabbed his face in both of my hands and pulled him forward, crashing our lips together. I didn't know what had gotten into me tonight, but for some reason I didn't even hesitate. I simply kissed him, long and slow--not even opening my mouth to lick at his lip.
Dakota seemed frozen. His grip on the back of my neck that had started off as strong, was now weak and almost slipping off of me. His lips barely even moved against mine, making me do all the work. I could hear him breathing shallowly and sharply through his nose and his heart was beating incredibly fast between our chests that I had pressed together.
After a while it didn't seem like Dakota was planning on doing much more so I took it upon my liberty to deepen the kiss. I bit his lip and used that opportunity to slip my tongue inside. It was strange. Probably one of the oddest things I'd done in a long time.
Dakota didn't taste like Dante. He didn't feel like Dante. Easily, it came down to the fact that he wasn't Dante--who was the only boy I had ever kissed. Who was one of the handful of people in general I had ever kissed. And he was also the only person I had ever enjoyed kissing. At least until now. Because everything Dakota was and everything he was doing, without even trying, was making it better and better as the seconds ticked by with our tongues clashing.
The way he seemed to be hesitant made me smile against his lips. He was inexperienced. I could tell from his movements. He easily let me guide our kiss. His hands had both fallen awkwardly at our sides. His breathing was ragged and irregular under my lips. The whole package of how he was acting told me exactly what I needed to know: Dakota had never kissed someone like this before.
I pulled back after a few more seconds once I came to that realization. I stared at him, thoroughly entertained, and enjoyed the way his cheeks were flushed pink. His eyes went to flicker away from me the second he opened them, but I used my hands that were still holding onto his head to remind him that I was right there. I didn't want him avoiding eye contact with me. I needed to see how his seafoam eyes held up against the breaking waves when I asked him this next question.
"Was that your first kiss?"
I tried really hard--believe me, I did--to keep the astonishment and the amusement from my voice. I knew it didn't work the moment the first word left my mouth. Dakota's brows furrowed, his eyes began to guard themselves, and his skin grew even hotter underneath my hands. I knew precisely what emotion he was feeling at that second. It was embarrassment. I'd dealt with enough of it on my own behalf to miss it on the other boy.
Dakota's hands went to my wrists to pull them away from his face. As soon as he did, I decided to clasp our hands tightly so he wouldn't back away from me completely. Instead, I dragged the blushing dark-haired boy over to the bed and maneuvered him down onto it. I wasted no time at all before climbing onto the mattress next to him. I let go of his left hand so our arms weren't quite as awkwardly pinned between us and lay half on top of him, keeping his back pressed into the bed.
In the back of my mind I knew that what I was doing was a bad idea. Possibly even the dumbest thing I had ever done, but with my head spinning from both the alcohol and the idea of someone I had always found attractive having a crush on me, I couldn't stop myself from continuing to test these new waters with Dakota.
My eyes briefly flicked over his face before I kissed his jaw. I was instantly rewarded with a ragged exhale of breath and then a sharp gasp when my tongue touched the skin on the underside of his jaw.
"You never answered me," I teased slightly, shaking my hand loose from his and dropping it down onto the lower half of his abdomen. His muscles tensed beneath me. "Was I your first?"
"This isn't a joke," Dakota said. His tone heavy with dread and his voice was quiet and shaky and a bit slurred as well.
I pulled back to look him in the eye. I raised a single eyebrow. "Did I say it was?"
Dakota hesitated for a few moments. "No, but--"
"But nothing. Now tell me."
There was something in my tone that made him aware of just how serious I was. I wasn't asking. I was demanding his confession. I watched, and heard, him swallow nervously. I was actually surprised that he didn't erupt into a violent fit of hiccups. He even looked way more nervous now than he had earlier when the hiccupping had begun.
"No," he said slowly, voice barely audible.
I smirked, knowing I was being an asshole, but unable to stop it. I didn't really have much of an excuse for that except to say that alcohol clouded my judgement. And filled me with a lot more confidence than I usually had in situations such as this.
"No what...?" I prompted the other boy.
He glared at me and I laughed. "No, I've never ki--you were the fir--"
Dakota abruptly cut himself off and I studied him. He looked angry with himself. Frustration was more than clear on his features as he looked anywhere but at me. I wouldn't have been surprised if he didn't start shaking soon.
I climbed over him quickly and straddled his hips, sitting back on his thighs. He froze, his entire body tensing up. I watched those light green eyes of his go wide and for a fleeting moment I thought I'd really scared the shit out of him. If that were the case I would have felt awful.
He's never kissed anyone, Harley, I reminded myself. He's probably never done anything like this. Be gentle with him.
Dakota's arms were laying--still awkwardly--on the bed on either side of him. Once again, the limbs were betraying how foreign of a situation he was in. If this were Dante, the only reason I'd be sitting on top of him would be if he wanted to switch things up. In any case, he was mostly in control. But staring down at Dakota, who seemed like he was about ready to freak out, I realized I was in control this time.
It was odd having that notion sink into my brain, and not entirely in a bad way. It was interesting, but also a little disconcerting. In different ways, I realized, Dakota and I were both swimming in uncharted territories. The moment that thought was processed in my mind, I knew it was my responsibility to figure out what happened next. Dakota needed me to do something--whether it was to stop or to start was up to me. But I had to make my decision.
Leaning down over his body, I made it. I placed my hands on either side of his head and brought my lips to his in a very chaste kiss. I pulled back, letting my eyes slide open halfway and regarded the dark-haired boy. He seemed slightly more relaxed and grew even more so when I picked his hands up slowly to put them on my lower back.
Dakota's fingers were hesitant as they pressed against my body over my t-shirt. I could read it on his face just how scared he was. But I was relieved to see that with each minute that went by, he seemed to feel better.
I pressed my lips to his ear, hoping to be able to soothe him. "You don't have to be embarrassed. Just let me take care of it."
"Harley--" he choked, his tone full of panic.
"It's okay," I said softly, trying to reassure him. I felt adoration for this boy suddenly beginning to grow somewhere inside of me. "Do you want me to stop?"
"I don't know," was all he said after a long stretch of silence.
My brows furrowed and I swallowed nervously. I realized that for the first time in a long time, I didn't know what I was doing in an intimate setting. With Dante everything was comfortable, fast or slow, but always easy because we'd been doing it for so long now. But there was something about Dakota that made me nervous. I didn't want to push him away.
He fidgeted slightly underneath me and I was surprised when he muttered an apology beneath his breath. Every other encounter I'd ever had with him, he was confident and easy-going. Now, he was the polar opposite. I kind of liked it; I found it incredibly endearing, just like I did his hiccups. But I didn't know why he was apologizing and it made me feel bad.
I pushed myself off of him completely and ran a hand through my curls a few times. Dakota sat up and stared across the room. "Why?" I asked him.
"What?"
"Why did you say you were sorry?"
Dakota shrugged, refusing to look at me. "Because I have no clue what I'm doing. I thought telling you I like you would be a good idea, because ever since I found you with Dante, this stupid spark of hope lit up inside me that maybe, somehow, there could be something here. But I don't know if I can do this."
I nodded my head slowly at him, taking in everything he said carefully, trying to understand. "That's okay. I didn't mean to push you into anything."
Dakota shook his head and finally settled his gaze on me. "It's not that, it's just that that," he said, gesturing to where we had just been lying together, "was my first kiss. Ever. And I like you so much it makes me want to throw up because I'm terrified."
My heart began pounding inside my chest. "Of me?"
"Of fucking up. Of falling short and not being good enough." He shook his head again and started laughing as if I'd just told him a great joke. "Fuck, I mean the way I found out that I might actually have a real-life chance and not just something in my dreams, was because you were giving your boyfriend a blow job, so obviously you are already way more experienced than me."
"He's not my boyfriend," I said, wincing at my own words, sort of wishing they weren't true. "But yeah, I've had a lot of sex, not gonna lie. Why does that matter?"
"Because why the hell would you want to waste your time with me when Dante's probably better than I could ever be in bed?"
I was taken aback by his words. Nearly blown away, actually. And at first I didn't know how to answer. But then I said, "That's not what's most important to me, though."
"Then what is?"
"I don't know, maybe the way someone makes me feel in here," I said, pointing to my chest.
Dakota dropped his eyes to the floor. I could almost see the blush on his cheeks coming back in full force. "Oh."
It got so quiet after that that I didn't think he was going to say anything else until he asked, "How do I make you feel?"
I smiled and without even hesitating, I answered, "Different. In a really good way." One I didn't realize that I'd been needing. "Happy. When you're not being a jerk to me."
Dakota chuckled and my smile grew wider. "Yeah, I should probably work on that. I just never know how to act around you. I thought you were straight and I couldn't make my crush go away."
I think I surprised the both us when I genuinely said, "I'm glad you couldn't."
Dakota looked over at me and when he smiled, I felt butterflies in my throat.