"Tell me when to stop." I placed one of my hands on the nape of her neck and kissed her lips slowly, diving deep with my tongue.
"Don't...stop..." she said between kisses. Her hands found their way into my hair and she pulled me down closer to her.
I planted a kiss on her jawline, her neck, her chest. I mimicked old moves. Once you found what turned a girl on, you sorta resorted to those same moves. Some girls got upset because they wanted you to "try new things." But sometimes, repeating old moves was easier than being told you didn't know how to get a girl off.
And if you slept with different girls, you could repeat those moves all you wanted. To them, you just looked experienced.
She wrapped her legs around my waist and arched her back, pulling my head down to the crook of her neck. I shifted higher up so our bodies were aligned. Our limbs were entangled and it was too dark for me to see anything. She lay beneath me and let me put my full weight on her as I started grinding up, down, up, down...
Our heavy breathing was amplified in the small, condensed space. Maybe the car shook, but it would've hardly been noticeable since I was doing all the work. Pretty shitty. It didn't hurt for her to, I don't know, at least kiss back. At least move her own hips or offer to "try something new." Sure, I didn't mind making her feel good. I got off just by a girl's moans. But it was nice to sit back and relax sometimes...
"Wait...okay stop." She turned her head to the side and pushed gently on my shoulders.
I slowed my movements and opened my eyes. Her chestnut hair was tangled and some strands clung to her slightly damp forehead.
She shifted beneath me and met my eyes. After studying my face for a few unnecessary seconds, she ran her fingers through my hair as a way of comfort, or whatever. "What's wrong?" she finally asked.
"What do you mean?"
"You're tense."
Ugh. Another one of these talks. I wasn't in the mood, so I argued, "Am not," before kissing her jawline again.
"Are too." She pulled away and placed her fingers beneath my chin to make me look at her again. "Usually you're pretty...creative." She bit her lip.
"I'm tired. Long game, remember?"
"Mm. Okay." She put her arms around my neck and started kissing my lips again.
The car was hot and muggy even though we'd only been inside for five minutes. I told her to not turn on the AC in case someone thought we were loitering and tried knocking on the window. It was better if no one knew anyone was in here.
The front seat was down and I moved my hands to the seat shoulders for leverage, the girl beneath me. I didn't want to put all my weight on her; I never knew when I'd make it uncomfortable for the girl. But her hands found their way under my shirt and roamed around my back, her nails grazing gently, before she pulled my full body weight back onto hers.
She tugged the bottom of my shirt up and I sat up just long enough to finish twisting out of it. Then I moved back down and kissed her chest before unbuttoning her uniform shirt. I pushed the material back and revealed her plain black bra. For a moment, I let my fingertips trace the top of her bra. She shivered and took my hand in her own, kissed my fingers, and moved my hand down to the waistband of her jeans.
"Keep going," she whispered.
My mind was hazy. On top of it being dark, my vision was a little blurred. But I tried unbuttoning her pants. Once that was done, I tugged on her jeans and she lifted up so I could pull them off.
She wore black panties that matched her bra. I scooted down on the seat between her legs, but the car was such a tight squeeze, I ended up slamming my elbow into the door. She sighed. "Sorry," I said.
"It's fine." Then her lips spread into a slow seductive smile and she twisted a strand of hair on her finger. "Keep going. Do what you did last time, but go further..."
Last time. I hardly remembered what I did last time. I was always high whenever a girl came to me with a special request.
"Emery." Her voice was impatient. "Can you just make it quick? I have to get home soon."
I nodded and moved my arms to the outer part of her thighs, grazing my thumbs along her hips. I brought my lips to the soft skin of her stomach. Closed my eyes. Moved slowly. One kiss beneath her bra. One kiss in the middle of her stomach. One kiss above her belly-button piercing. One kiss beneath her belly-button, just above the line of her panties.
She let out another soft moan, but it was just white noise. My mind heard too many other things. The way the crowd screamed, "Go Emery!" The way the whistle blew and I could never register who the coach was directing it too. The way people congratulated me at the end of the game but I was too busy scanning the crowd to thank any of them. A series of familiar phrases like, "good game!" "you're amazing!" "how do you do it?" "why are you so hot?" pervaded my ears. It was too much. It didn't mean anything. None of it meant anything because-
"Emery!"
I opened my eyes and met her dark eyes.
She sat upright, eyebrows furrowed, her lips pulled into a frown. "You keep stopping. What the hell's the matter with you?"
Everything. "Nothing."
"It's like you forgot what to do. This isn't the first time, idiot."
"It's been a while."
"Um, you mean a week? We literally were in this position last week and you made me feel the best anyone has ever made me feel. The top on my list of Bests. Now, you're on the bottom of my list of Worsts."
She had lists? Damn.
"Are you high right now?"
I shrugged. "Do I smell high?" I held my arm out to her and smiled crookedly at her to lighten the mood.
She rolled her eyes. "Okay, we're not doing this." She pushed me off her and felt around the seat for her uniform shirt. Once she found it, she slipped her arms through the sleeves and buttoned her pants back up.
Still kneeling on the floor, I scooted as far back to give her space, my back hitting the glove box. While she struggled with her shirt buttons, I looked out the window at the parking lot.
Students still hung out in front of the school. Max and Jacob laughed with Palmer and some of the other guys. They wanted me to go with them to celebrate our win at a bar (Max had fake ID's for everyone) but I declined. Knowing my luck, I'd run into Allen. And beer still just wasn't my thing.
"Hello? Oh my God." She shoved my shoulder and I looked over at her. She was already dressed and moving to the driver's seat. Once it was free, I moved up from the floor and took her place in the passenger seat. I felt around the back for my shirt and once I had it, I pulled it on.
"Sorry," I offered lamely. "I'm not feeling it tonight."
"Oh really? I couldn't tell." She blew strands of hair off her face and grabbed the wheel, but the car was still off. She just stared through the windshield.
Why was I even there? In her car? I wanted to go home.
But actually...did I even really have one?
"I thought you wanted this. Especially tonight."
"I did." I thought I did. It was our second-to-last game and we won...because of me. This girl had attended all my games since the semester started again. She was the one in charge of Prom Committee and our main supporter at games. After every game, we started...how would you say it? Hooking up. That was all it ever was. We weren't together. I just needed a distraction.
"Emery, you're always high. Your mind is hardly ever with it these days."
Was it ever before?
"Answer me, Emery. Half the time, it's like talking to a wall."
"So what if I am? It's not like I'm forcing you to get high with me."
"No. And honestly, I didn't care at first. But now, it's interfering with this."
"This?"
She sighed. "I know you told me in the beginning that...that this was just a hook-up thing, but I kind of like you Emery."
"No." I shook my head. "You don't."
"Maybe I do. Maybe I care about you..."
I almost laughed. Care about me? She thought because we fucked after every game, she cared about me? There was no love involved whatsoever. I...I thought I knew what love was, and she didn't have a clue about what it meant.
"Whatever." She shook her head. "You don't feel the same. I get it. That's not what you signed up for. But I mean, you should stop smoking. At least when we do this."
Stop smoking? That was the only thing that kept me sane. This was just a bonus. "Nah, I don't think I can do that."
"What?"
"It's my thing. I have to do it after games; part of the package, remember?"
"What, smoke?"
I nodded.
"You'd rather smoke than have this?"
Have what, exactly? She wasn't anyone special. She was just a girl. A girl whose name I still couldn't remember even though she told me it several times. "I can get this anytime I want. It's not like we're in a serious relationship or anything."
Her mouth fell open. "You're an asshole. Just like everyone else on the basketball team."
"I'm being honest." I looked back out the window. Max and Jacob were gone. "I'm trying to..."
"Trying to what?"
"Stay here."
"What?"
"I'm trying to hold on."
"To what? God, you make zero sense. See, this is why you need to quit the weed."
"Just forget it. And we should stop this...thing. It's not helping, anyway."
"Not helping? I thought you were doing it 'cause you enjoyed doing it with me?"
"I thought I would eventually enjoy it. But still..." I shook my head. "I don't."
She was silent. I didn't know what she was thinking, but I knew she was mad. "Get out."
"I'm sor-"
"Get out!"
I opened the door of her car and stepped out. Before I even finished closing the door all the way, she sped off.
It was true. I wanted to feel something. That's why I agreed to start hooking up with her; maybe I'd develop feelings like she did? But everything was just...gone. I didn't know how to get it back. I felt trapped in some kind of smoke plume. I was choking on the air; mentally trapped in a burning building. I was the person firefighters left behind when the building went up in flames.
This semester wasn't anything different, but I wanted it to be. Spring semester, March. Senior year was almost over. Didn't the girl tell me earlier tonight that Prom funds were almost finished? Yup. Almost over.
Yet while a few of the other guys on my team already found out they received a full-ride basketball scholarship, I still heard nothing. I wasn't going to worry myself. But time was short. That was my last resort, and if that didn't work? How the hell was I gonna get away from my dad?
I walked to the curb and plopped down. The parking lot was empty and dark. So was I.
I curled and uncurled my fingers. Some of the bones still ached and I couldn't fully form a fist anymore.
I never got physical therapy. I didn't have the money for it. My money as a waiter in the cheap Italian restaurant down the street from my house didn't earn me much; I was only able to work weekends and after school hours. Anything I did make went to my drugs.
Oh yeah. I started buying heroin. I hadn't tried it yet; a part of me was a little scared. How would my body react to it? I knew it was addictive. After watching my dad, I didn't want to become dependent on something unhealthy.
Ha. I was such a hypocrite.
Tonight's game sucked-in my mind, anyway. We won. But so freaking what? What for? Cheers and popularity and attention? That's all basketball had earned me. Still didn't have my scholarship. Still didn't feel anything. To me, life was prison.
During the game, I had the ball most of the time. My new Jordan's squeaked across the court as I dribbled and focused only on avoiding obstacles; the other team who wore red. I passed to Max, who made some pretty sick slam-dunks. And when there were only a few seconds on the court and we were down by one, Max passed back to me and I made the shot from the opposite end of the court.
Two points up won us the game and a crapload of cheers.
People came up to me after the game and patted me on the back. Someone handed me a towel. My teammates high-fived me. I watched people from the bleachers, our classmates, my teammates' brothers, sisters, parents come up to congratulate their kids.
My supporters were always the same: half the school I didn't know.
I scanned the crowd even though, like all other times, I knew I'd be disappointed. But I just wanted to see. My stupid mind always hoped.
Like always, my dad didn't show.
I was an idiot. I was like a fucking bird who kept flying into the same window knowing very well it would never be opened. Or like Wilbur said: I was that damn fly.
Several times, I notified my dad of my games in case he cared to see one of them. I was playing basketball, after all. That was exactly what he wanted me to do. But still...he didn't show.
So after the game, I just got high in the bathroom. I sat on the counter and as I blew smoke out of my mouth, I studied the wall where the words "Everything is BLUE" used to be. The walls were completely covered in white.
Freaking Mello. I wondered if he missed me.
He never returned this semester. Our new disciplinarian was some sour-faced old man (well, he might've been in his thirties, but his personality was eighty) who wrote students up for everything. Thirty-seconds late for class? Detention. Walking in the halls too slow? Detention. Staring at him the wrong way? Detention. Breathing? Detention.
We would've known each other well if not for the fact that I had to avoid all detentions possible to stay on that damn team.
Tomorrow was senior ditch day. We were all supposed to meet up somewhere, like an amusement park or a lake or something. I knew where I was going, but it wasn't there and it wasn't home.
It was somewhere I hadn't been in a long, long time.