“Kiss me back, Olivia.” His voice was commanding, and for a second, I felt a flare of rebellion like I did when he instructed me to put on my seat belt. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. I didn’t win that fight. I probably wouldn’t win this one either. I might not even want to win it.
I could do it. Kissing was a no-brainer, like eating or walking. His lips came back a second time and I bent my head toward him, tilted like in the movies. I was ready this time, willing even. I jumped when we connected and his lips, which were pressed against mine, stretched into an amused smile. He laughed into my mouth. It was infuriating and incredibly sexy. I tried to pull away, but he pulled me back. The kiss. The kiss. The kiss. It was chocolate cake and fizzy passion and goose bumps. No one had ever kissed me like that before.
Then, he did the strangest thing—he pulled away and held me at arm’s length. The spell was broken.
“Olivia…” His voice was rough. I shook my head. I didn’t want to hear what he was going to say.
“I have to go,” I said quickly. The water, which had been still, began rippling as I struggled over to the side of the pool. In one smooth motion, I pulled myself up and out of the water and looked down at my shivering body. I was canoodling in a pool in my underwear with the college Casanova. I was a harlot. Grabbing my wet clothes from the ground I looked around in alarm. Someone was going to see me walk back wearing wet clothes.
“Olivia,” he said again. I refused to look at him. “Here,” he handed me his dry sweatshirt, which I accepted gratefully and pulled over my head. He opened his mouth.
“Look, whatever you’re going to say, don’t!”
He nodded. We walked out the gate and into the parking lot. Caleb retrieved a gym towel from his car and handed it to me. I dabbed at my face and hair and passed it back, my eyes on the floor. I was too ashamed to say anything. My behavior had been tacky. I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. I ground my molars together and pressed my eyes closed.
“Goodnight, Caleb.” I said quickly, sounding half strangled. I could feel his eyes on my back as I walked away. Why had he pulled away like that? The first time I’d ever let myself go, and I got a hard slap in the face.
“By tomorrow, he’ll forget you,” I hissed to myself, “and then you can move on with your life and forget what kissing him felt like.”
I woke up the next morning feeling as if I had swallowed a mouthful of gravel. My throat was burning and my body ached. I burrowed under my covers and tried to shut out images from the night before. They were stupid and reckless images that kept replaying themselves over and over until I wanted to scream. There was no room for mistakes in my life. I didn’t have any family or the back-spring of money. I had one shot to make something of myself and Caleb was the type of distraction that could throw my life off balance
He called twice during the day and once after dinner. I put my phone on silent and forbade Cammie from answering it. I got dressed for class on Monday morning, still slightly green and determined to pretend that nothing had happened. We had a Sociology class together, something he probably didn’t realize since it was one of the larger classes this semester, and I sat as far to the front of the room as he sat to the rear.
When I arrived, the auditorium was filling up quickly. Bleary eyed and dizzy, I made my way to the far left side of the building. Hidden by an overhang were five coveted seats shrouded in shadow. I wanted to hide there. Their usual occupants were the class sleepers and a guy who looked like Fred Flintstone gone Unabomber. Today I was lucky. Two seats had yet to be claimed. I began trotting across the aisles, my bag clutched in an iron grip to my side. I was halfway there when I heard my name called from the professor’s podium.
“Miss Kaspen?”
I froze. Professor Grubbs was addressing me through his microphone and people were turning in their seats to stare. I tried to keep walking like I hadn’t heard him.
“Miss Kaspen?” Professor Grubbs sang again, “where do you think you’re going?”
I turned slowly, plastering a smile over my gritted teeth. The obnoxious, insufferable, piece of….
“Good morning Professor,” I said sweetly.
His three chins were swinging beneath his grinning mouth like a pendulum. Caleb, whose head had been bent over his textbook a moment ago pivoted toward me in his seat. Caught. I looked over my shoulder longingly as two students slipped into the chairs I was headed for.
“Is there something wrong with your regular seat?” asked Professor Grubbs, motioning toward the front row. “Is it my breath?” He blew into his hand and pretended to sniff. There was collective snickering around the room.
I glared at him and quietly made my way to the front of the room.
Professor Grubbs was a three hundred pound bull with a penchant for being controversial. Students were intimidated by the professor's booming voice and over imposing presence. I found him loveable. But, not today—today I hated him.
“It looks to me like you’re hiding from someone.” He leaned on his podium, and for a second, I thought it was going to crack underneath his weight.
My eyes darted to Caleb. He was smiling.
Aaaargh!
“Hiding from someone?” I sighed as I sat. “Why would I be hiding from someone? And I thank you to not analyze my every move, especially for the entire class to hear,” I added with a hiss.
Professor Grubbs looked at me mischievously and then he cleared his throat into the microphone.