Home > If I Was Your Girl(48)

If I Was Your Girl(48)
Author: Meredith Russo

“Hey there.” Rod smiled, motioning to the chair. “Whatcha interested in? Upper cartilage, maybe get a gauge started?”

“Oh, no,” Layla said. “Her ears aren’t pierced at all.”

“A virgin!” Rod said, smiling. I felt my cheeks flush. “Well, don’t worry, y’all came to the right place. I know it’s probably a little intimidating in here, but we’ll take good care of you.”

Layla eyed my nervous face. She pointed at me and then pointed at the chair. I gripped the armrests like I was riding a roller coaster and closed my eyes, trying to keep my breathing under control.

“Don’t tell me when it’s coming,” I said, listening to the crinkle of plastic as Rod unwrapped the needle. I focused on happy things instead—how just this moment, the boy of my dreams was preparing a birthday surprise, how friends who knew me well were dead set on getting me what I wanted, and not taking no for an answer. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted to celebrate my birthday, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had something to celebrate. “Do something to distract me.”

“Okay,” Layla said, sounding mischievous. A quiet moment passed, and then she said, “You know how Anna and me are on the homecoming committee?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, we nominated you for homecoming queen!”

I didn’t even notice when the needle went in.

25

My ears still stung when the girls dropped me off near the trail to the tree house. I knew better than to try to find out from them what Grant had planned, so I got out of the car without protest, smiling to myself as Layla wolf-whistled and screeched down the street. Once they were out of sight I made my way down the trail, my hoodie providing minimal protection against the chill blowing off the lake.

The undergrowth was mostly dead this far into November, and inches of fallen leaves obscured the path. I heard distant music and followed it to its source. When I stepped out of the trees and got my first glimpse of the lake glittering like crystal in the late-afternoon sun, it took me a moment to realize that Grant was there, leaning against the tree, fiddling absentmindedly with a lighter.

He wore a slightly threadbare black suit with buttons that shimmered in the light. His hair was combed and slicked back, and he had shaved. I loved the feel of his stubble on my face, but his smooth cheeks made him look princely and dashing. I took a small step forward.

“Wow,” I said. “I mean, hi. Apparently you’ve been getting something ready?” I recognized the music as the soundtrack to Amélie and grinned.

“Your birthday present,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling sheepishly. He nodded toward the ladder. I climbed up and saw the tree house floor covered in a white blanket, with two plates of food. Candles flickered on the window ledge. “Surprise!”

I hugged him and gave him a kiss.

“What’s that smell?” I said. “It’s wonderful.”

“Sole Meunière,” Grant said. “Hope I pronounced that right.” He hadn’t, but he had gotten it wrong in a cute way. “And there’s a hot potato salad and some baked zucchini with olive oil too.” He laced his fingers in mine and I felt so good, like lying in a sunbeam on a spring afternoon and falling into cold water after exercising all at once. “I remembered what you said when we watched Amélie, about wanting to live in Paris one day, so I thought I’d bring France here for a night.”

“Grant,” I said, turning to him, “this is wonderful. I don’t know what to say.”

“Yeah,” Grant said. I realized he was staring at me. “You make me feel that way a lot.” His lips parted as we stared at each other, and for a moment our eyes just danced back and forth and we breathed each other in.

He stepped forward and pressed his lips to mine. I closed my eyes and leaned into him, my fingertips grazing the lapels of his jacket as our mouths moved. I smiled and bit his lip as I undid the buttons on his jacket. He shrugged it off and broke our kiss to gingerly hang it over a tree branch.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just it’s the only suit I’ve got and I don’t wanna mess it up. It needs to last me at least until homecoming.”

I silently hooked a finger around his tie and pulled him to the tree trunk. He fussed at first, afraid the food might get cold, but I wasn’t hungry. I untied his tie, throwing it onto the same branch as his jacket. He placed his hand on my thigh. I put my hand against his chest and loved how hard his muscles were under his shirt, and especially how different our bodies were, how we were as different as two people could be but when he kissed me again our differences came together and we weren’t hard chest muscles or a soft thigh or breasts or beard shadow, we were just one thing exploring itself and shivering with the joy of it.

He reached under my skirt and I stiffened instinctively, still not used to that territory being safe. He looked up at me, eyes wide, and I slowly loosened back up. I nodded and we resumed our kiss as his fingers danced up my thigh and found the top of my leggings, which he slowly pulled down. We both looked at my legs as he unpeeled them. They were November pale, but long and shapely. Seeing him see them, I loved them even more. He ran his hand up my calf to the back of my knee and then up the back of my thigh and I gasped at the realization that touch could be like this. I thought of that poor girl pretending to be a boy who tried to kill herself and I wanted her to see this, to feel this, so she could understand that one day she might not just be okay with her body but that she would be able to feel things, beautiful things, inside of it.

   
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