What surprised me most was that I kissed him back and how much I enjoyed it.
His lips curved into a little smile against mine. Well, I must be doing something right.
Even though this should be weird; feel wrong because we're friends, it doesn't. Not in the slightest. It feels so right.
I don't know how long we stood there for, I hoped he didn't know that my face was on fire though.
We broke apart at the beeping of a car horn. Oh, shit. I didn't even hear the car pull up! Nicky looked frightened for just a second, then he looked back at me and smirked. I'm glowing red. "Uh, see ya," he muttered and dashed away.
"Wait, Nicky, is that you?" Jess yelled, stepping out of her car. A wave of relief flooded my veins. I thought that was my mom; the headlights were so bright I couldn't tell what car it was.
"Yeah," he said hastily, "hey Jessie... Gotta go." He jumped into his mom's car and started the engine. Jess chased him down the driveway, leaning against the passenger side window.
"Don't just dine and dash," she said brightly, "that's my sister."
Oh, God. Dine and dash. That sounds disgusting. I don't hear his reply. I ran inside while they were still talking. I went straight to the mirror, in the bathroom. I was on fire. My face was so red! How did he not notice that?
Am I that good of a kisser? What does this mean, now? Are we gonna like, date? Are we no longer friends? How does Steven fit into this mess?
He's a rockstar, you dummy! I thought. Steven has no part in this mess whatsoever! Who cares if you kissed him... Three times. It's not like it matters in the long run. He probably has a girlfriend (or many) anyway.
I sighed at the thought, but then again, I kissed Nicky. And it was really something else. Like, there were all these butterflies in my stomach when it happened, and they flew right up into my brain and clouded my thoughts while exploding into little fireworks. It made me all warm and fuzzy feeling. It ran a shiver down my spine. What's going on?
--
"Charlie!" Jess yelled up the stairs. "What the hell?" I didn't get off my bed; I was loosing myself in my guitar. Trying to clear my mind from everything. Except maybe the kiss I shared with Nicky. That was too good to clear away just yet. Jess burst through my door, breathless and flushed. "What the hell!" she repeated.
I look up, but don't stop playing. "What?" I say innocently, but I snap my head back down, trying to hide my smile and the blush covering my face.
"Don't what me, you little flirt!" she exclaimed. "I saw that! All of it! Oh my God!" She was absolutely beside herself with glee. I laid my guitar down next to me, folding my hands in my lap, knowing there's not an easy way to get through this. "Was it good? How long? How'd it happen? Are you two together?"
I remembered an earlier conversation, about how Jess made fun of me, saying I couldn't get a boyfriend. Since I'm living off the high of that kiss still, I'm a little hyper. "Ha!" I say, jumping up. "You said I couldn't get a boyfriend! Look at me now!"
"Yeah!" she squeals. "You're f– f– frickin' making-out with guys now! I've done good work."
I don't know why we don't cuss in this family. It's so blatantly obvious that we do everywhere else so why don't we do it at home? "I didn't 'make-out' with him," I say, knowing perfectly well that in fact, I did not. I'm not sure how to, exactly. I know that Nicky has, though. He used to date this girl he used to go to preschool with. He met her in Paris while on a 'business trip' with his dad. Paris is another great place–much like Vegas–for job offerings.
"Whatever," Jess muttered. "But don't keep these things from me!"
"I thought you weren't gonna be home 'til tomorrow," I mutter.
"Oh, did you want me to stay out? It's a good thing I came home when I did," she said, clearly assuming the absolutely wrong thing.
"Oh, God," I say, "that's not why I asked. Mom just said–"
"Nah, it's cool," she says with a smile. "I got it. Where is Mom anyway?"
"On a date," I say quietly, sitting criss-cross applesauce on my bed again and picking up my guitar.
"Really?!" Her face lit up at the thought.
"I dunno," I say, beginning to absently play a Led Zeppelin tune. I didn't even know what I was playing; I didn't think about it–it just kind of came to me. "I think so, but then again, it is Mom, so..." Jess frowns, apparently confused as to why I'm not happy that my mother–who was in love with my father–is on a potential date. Not with my dad. "She should be home soon," I add.
"Okay," Jess says, heading for the door. "See you tomorrow. G'night."
"Yeah," I breathe, not really listening anymore. She shuts my door and leaves me to my playing. I let the music swirl around me, enjoying it and letting it clear my mind.
--
Riiiiing!!! Riiiing!!!
Aw, what the hell? It's like three in the morning! "Hello?" I say, regretting putting a phone in my room. Unlike Jess, I didn't have my own private number. It could've been anybody.
But of course it had to be Nicky. "Hey," he said brightly.
I was still half asleep. I was rather uncoherent and I pretty much didn't remember the night. "What the hell, Nicky?" I said, "It's like three in the morning!"
"Is it?" he asked, shocked.
"Yeah. Look outside."
"Oh. I guess it is. What's up?" he asks cheerily.
"Uh, I'm sleeping," I say, irritated.
"Then how are you talking?" he asked smartly.
"Because you woke me up," I yawn. "What do you want?"
"I wanted to know–do you wanna hang out again tonight?" he asked hopefully.
"Sure. Whatever."
"Really?" he asked, excited. "What do you wanna do? We could go get cheeseburgers, if you want. Or we could try again for a movie, or we could go record shopping, was it okay that I kissed you? Or we could go to a concert, or hit a pizza place, or where are we? Or maybe–"
"Wait, wait, wait," I say. I sit up, wiping my eyes. Oh yeah, I kissed Nicky. And I liked it. He hadn't paused between words at all, trying to confuse me apparently. "Did you ask where we were?"
"Uh... Yeah," he says quietly.
"Well, I'm at home; you're probably at home, too. At least I hope. You're obviously high, so..." I say, trailing off.
He sighs, annoyed. "No, like, friends, more, what?"
"You're asking me to decide this at three in the morning?" I say sarcastically.
"Yes." He's ridiculous.
"I'll talk to you later on. Goodnight."
"I guess... Goodnight, Charlie," he says. I remove the phone from my ear, but, "Wait!"
"What?"
"Do you have Popsicles?"
"I don't know!" I say loudly. "Goodnight."
"Laters."
I slam the phone back down on the receiver and try to fall back to sleep.
But I can't. Where are we? Yes, where are we? Now that he's put that absolutely wonderful thought back into my head, it clouds my brain and prevents sleep for quite some time.
--
Mom woke me up at noon. "Charlie!" she had yelled up the stairs. "Charlie, telephone!"
I groaned.
"Charlie!!"
"What!"
"Telephone!"
"Ugh. Okay!" I called back. Why didn't I hear it ringing? Strange.
I roll out of bed and stumble down the stairs. I reach the rotary phone on the table in the hallway. I also don't know why I didn't just pick up the phone on my nightstand. "Hello?" I say, still half asleep.
"Charlie?" says a familiar voice, but I can't quite place it.
"Yeah," I say with a yawn.
"How are you?"
"What?" I was taken aback by that for some reason. "I'm... Good, I guess. Who is this?" I know that I know him, I just can't place the voice.
"It's... Steven," he says. As in Steven? Yes. As in Steven. Why does he have this n– "Your sister gave me this number to call instead, so... I supposed I'd give it a try."
"Alright..." I say slowly. "Why're you calling?"
" 'Cause I said I would, remember?" he says with a little smile–I can tell that he's smiling.
"I... Guess you did, then," I reply slowly, unsure of what else to say. I don't want to be a loser while talking to him because, in truth, I do like him a lot. He says he likes me too, so that just adds more pressure to the plate.
He laughs lightly. I like his laugh. "I was wondering–I'd like to get to know you..." He wants to get to know me. Okay, then. "A little better. What–What're you doing tonight?"
"Uh," I begin, unsure how to reply. Why does he want to know? Talking to him makes everything slip from my mind. It's like I can't think straight when he talks–especially when he laughs or smiles. "N-Nothing?"
"Not a thing?" he asks, seeming excited.
"I don't think so," I say slowly, unsure.
"Can I... Take you somewhere?" he tries, also unsure now. I never thought I'd see or hear a rockstar and think of him as 'unsure,' but there's a first for everything.
"It depends on where," I say. Then, because I'm nervous and my hands are shaking, I have to add, "Like if it's an abandoned building, then no, because I don't want to be murdered. Not tonight, at least. I have that scheduled for some other time–" he cuts me off with a laugh. I didn't think it was funny. "–However if it's, say, roller-skating, then hell yes you can take me somewhere."
Steven begins to reply, but my mom interjects from the kitchen: "Charlie, who're you talking to?"
"Nobody!" I call.
"Nobody's right here," Steven says.
"Watch your language, honey," she warns with this sickly sweet tone.
I cringe. "Sorry!" But then I go back to the little butterflies and talking to Steven, rather loudly: "I meant heck yes."
He laughs again, though it still isn't funny. I don't think I'm a funny person at all. Why does he think I'm so funny? He says, "Well, I'm not one for roller-skating, but how about dinner?"
Dinner? Isn't that where two people who like each other go on dates? Is he asking me on a date? Is Steven of Aerosmith asking me on a date? Am I dreaming? How is this possible? Apparently, I was wondering out loud. Though I didn't mean to. Apparently I said, "Like, a date?"
"Is that a yes?"
"Is it?" I ask, still nervous. My hands are shaking like a dog shittin' bones and my heart is fluttering faster than a hummingbird's wings.
"What time?" he asks cheerily, avoiding my question that is causing me anxiety.
"I–I don't know. Is it a date?"
"If you say it is," he replies brightly. "See you at seven." Click!
What just happened?
I put the phone down in a daze and float into the kitchen. "Who was that, Shar?" mom asks.
"Uh, the guy from Aerosmith," I say, getting out the box of Lucky Charms.
She seemed confused. "Why?"
"Because..." I pour the cereal as I try to come up with an answer without grinning ear-to-ear. "I–I think he's taking me to dinner," I say quietly, opting for the truth.
"Yeah?" she asks. "Where?"
"I dunno," I mutter.
"When?"
"Seven, I guess."
"That's kind of late."
"Okay."
"When will you be back?"
"When we're done."
"Just dinner?"
"That's what I said." What's with all the questions?
"So you'll be home at eight, then?"
"I suppose," I say, taking a bite of my Lucky Charms.
"So that's it, then?"
"What?"
"You're dating boys now?"
"That was never specified."
And with that, my mother sighs and goes back to doing the dishes. I smile, satisfied that I've ended the questionnaire, but puzzled over the thought of whether it's a date or no–
Oh my God, Nicky.
Last night and the dinner and me falling asleep on the couch and the kissing and the phone call and oh my God what am I doing?
Of course, now my dinner with Steven is definitely not a date. It can't be because, apparently, I'm with Nicky now. Shit! I forget everything when I talk to Steven. Even on the phone! I mean, it's one thing in person, because I get lost in his eyes, but on the phone? Seriously?
But then, I never said I wanted to be with Nicky. Maybe I want to be with Steven... Even though I don't know his last name...
So, I suppose in the long run, this dinner with Steven tonight (I'm not sure why I agreed to go–I mean, what're we gonna talk about for an hour?) could technically still be considered a date. As long as I don't think of things with Nicky as dates.
To sum things up, tonight I have a maybe-date with a lead singer who's last name I don't know, I have confusing feelings for my best friend, and my mom is extremely worried.
Awesome.