texaswildfire

I found a dress in my mother's closet.
It's black and fitting and is so nice.
It feels amazing on!
She bought me a new bra and underthings to wear with it.
It was all waiting for me when I got home on Friday.
I felt safe enough to try it on.
Jonah is out with dad for the weekend again.
Seth has a mountain of homework to do.

With it on, I can't believe how I feel.
Amazing.
I don't even look like myself.
I look older, better, more pretty.
Everything comes off so I don't ruin it.
And all in the nick of time.
Seth comes in, without knocking, just as I pull on my tank top.

"So, I have some of my work done and I was thinking that we should let mom have a night to herself," he says, trying to make up for his previous rudeness. "We could get dinner somewhere then catch up with some of my friends. They are supposed to be having a party at Jason's place."

"I don't feel like going to a raging party tonight," I tell him, hanging the dress my mom gave me in my closet. "You could give me a driving lesson and maybe you could call Noodle, see if he wouldn't mind some company. I could play his PS3 while you guys watch and laugh at my horrible driving skills on Grand Theft Auto."

"Yeah, sure," Seth says, pulling the keys to his car out of his pocket. "Make sure you have comfortable clothes on. We can stay there tonight. I'll call Marc to see if he wants to come. He can keep you company in your soberity."

He leaves.
I stretch in my jeans and tank top.
Comfortable.
I could sleep in them if I have to.
I slide a simple black ponytail holder around my left wrist.
Just in case.

Seth tells me Marc is coming.
They get the front seats.
I take the back so I can stretch out some more.
No one really says anything until we get to Noodle's.
His house is expensive.
Expansive.
Intimidating.
His parents are absent ones.
Mom's away in rehab.
Dad's in Cancun with his mistress.

They set me up with a controller.
Marc stays next to me.
Noodle and Seth go to smoke outside.
I don't get to play though.
Marc uses the aloneness to make up for the hectic week.

"They'll be gone for a while," he tells me as he takes the controller from my hands. "You never told me if you found a dress for prom. I kind of hope you didn't because, well, I wanted to talk to you about my change of mind in going."

"What? You don't want to go now? Is it because of me? Did I do something wrong," I ask him, stringing the words together. "I mean, if you want to go, just not with me, I understand. You can just tell me. I won't hate you."

"You had little to nothing to do with the fact that I changed my mind. It's just the fact that Julie is going to be there with someone and I don't know about being in such a public place with her around," he tells me. "Unless you want to go. I don't want to disappoint you."

"Look Marc, I understand that it's hard for you to even imagine seeing her with someone else but, I really hoping to go with you. If for nothing more than to show Elliot that I am just fine without him," I say, not bothering to hide my disappointment. "But, you were with her for a really long time. I understand that you don't want to go. We can just stay home. Or come here like I know Seth will. Or...whatever you want."

"You sound so disappointed. I know that you understand where I'm coming from but it just doesn't seem fair to take it all back," he says.

"It kind of is unfair but I'm fine with it. Really. You shouldn't do what you don't want to do just because I'm disappointed. I'm sure we can find something else to do next Friday," I tell him, trying to convince myself that it really will be okay.

Marc slides his fingers through my hair.
Slow. Sweet.
The tips brush the back of my neck.
This doesn't help the stinging of him taking his invitation back.
Ok.
Maybe it does.
A little.

I don't need the dress.
Or the underthings.
And really, how big of a deal is prom this year?
Not really for me.
It didn't matter until Marc asked me.
And I still have next year to go.
It will mean more then.

"Please don't be angry with me," Marc whispers.

His arm slides around my shoulders.
I sink into his side, my head resting against him.

"I'm not angry," I sigh against his collar. "Just mildly let down. You can go with me next year. It's will be more awesome since you will be in college anyway."

Seth and Noodle stay gone.
For a long time.
We play video games in Noodle's bedroom.
It's nice.
Light blue walls and carpet.
It reminds me of the sky over the sea in June.

We quit playing at almost midnight.
Seth and Noodle can be heard in the kitchen.
Marc and I pull out Noodle's couch and cuddle up in the light of the muted T.V.

"I will totally go to prom with you next year, even if it's only to make your friends jealous. We can go out that night. We can go to dinner and, if you already have a dress, you can wear it. I'd love to know what it's like," Marc whispers as he twirls my hair around his finger. "That is, if you feel I'm deserving of knowing now."

"Of course you are," I tell him. "Thing is, I can't describe how it looks right. You just have to see it for yourself to know. But, if I go out to dinner in that dress, and you go out with me in a suit to a really nice place to have an expensive dinner, does that mean it's a date?"

"Could be," he whispers against my ear. "Consider it a lighter shade of grey, more white than black."

Just as we are about to kiss, really kiss, Seth and Noodle come back.
They don't stay long.
We act as if we're asleep.
They are too high to notice we're not really.
They walk out with more drugs.
Better drugs.
They'll be flying by the end of the night.

The second the door closes, I feel Marc shift against me.
His knee slides between mine.
His lips kiss my shoulder.

"Are you aware that every time you kiss me, you make me like you more. I don't know whether or not that's a good thing," I tell him, enjoying his kisses on my shoulder, my neck, my jawline. "It makes me confused."

"You aren't the only one," he tells me, falling away. "I think I have it one way but, at the end of the day, it's torn apart. I wonder what you're doing, if you are missing me, wondering why I miss you, wondering if I should come over or call or if I should even be wondering at all. Confused is my best friend right now."

"Confusion should be a girls best friend, after diamonds of course," I joke. "Why are you allowing yourself to be confused? This is what you wanted. Grey. Not black. Not white. The shade inbetween. Isn't it?"

"It's what I thought I wanted. I am unsure about a lot of things right now, Rose. I should be concentarting on school, graduation, going to college in September. Those things all seem so tiny compared to every single thought I have about you," Marc says. "I want to eat lunch with you, I want to walk you to classes, I want to wait at your locker like a puppy. It just isn't healthy. Not exactly sane. I don't know what I'm doing. I just tell you that I don't want to go to prom because I'm not ready to see Julie with someone else and now I'm saying that I don't want to be grey, though the color looks good on us both."

I wonder instantly if he has been smoking.
Shooting up.
But his breath is vanilla-y still from the toothpaste he scrubbed with before coming out.
He's got no track marks.
His clothes actually smell clean. Fresh. Like he always does.

"I hate being in grey," I confess. "I just pretend I do. I thought I could do it. You know, just be with you without having any expectations and keeping my feelings at bay. I like you. You know that. So what now? Do we go back to black or stay in grey or..."

Marc slides his arm around me.
He gets so close.
If it weren't for clothes, we'd be one person.
His teeth find my ear lobe.
He bites into the soft flesh and they rake, rake, rake downward.
Shivers sprinkle up my spine then explode through me.
Not at his teeth.
Not at his warm fingers finding their way underneath my tank top.
They come courtesy of the word he breathes next to my ear.
White.

"Do you mean that," I ask, my voice so soft as his hands stroke down my bare back, fingers hovering above my skin as if it's made of cashmere and he's afraid he'll ruin it. "White can get messy quick."

"Only if it's allowed to be stained," he whispers against my neck.

He slides away from me to lock the bedroom door.
I kick my shoes off.
He does the same.
He stands in front of the T.V. to peel off his t-shirt.
I keep mine on.
I am happy for my clothes.
He watches me.
Treating me as if I am some sort of prey as he crawls up over me.
His muscles stay calm as I extend my hands to hold his shoulders above mine.
He lowers himself slowly, his hands slide to meet mine when our chests collide.

"I am in no way capable for hurting you," Marc assures me as his hands slide underneath my shoulders, his fingers stroking the curls of my hair underneath me. "Surely you must know this and, if you don't, you should. I'm never going to hurt you."

"Your usage of the word 'never' has just damned us. At least you didn't promise me anything," I say, surely ruining the night as it is.

"I'm not big on promises unless I am absolutely sure that I can keep them and nothing is damned unless you keep thinking it is," he says soothingly against my shoulder. "Don't make me repeat myself. I will gladly do it but I think you would get tired of it after a while."

He's right.
I would.
So, I kiss him.
It makes my mind calm.
Bad thing is, it makes my blood race.
And his roaming hands make me moan.
The hours fly past and we don't stop until morning.
And then we sleep on the pull out couch in a spoon.
His shirtless protection helps me relax and dream.
I could do this forever.
I could do anything with him forever.