texaswildfire

At my mother's suggestion, I slept alone.
In my own bed.
I didn't mind all that much because Marc was sleeping alone, too.
My sleep was peaceful.
Sunday was just as nice.
The next week was okay.
The Monday after that was a different story.
Seniors are out for the last week.
Seth and Marc got to stay home to sleep things off.
Jonah and I had to go.

Monday = Final exam grades back (all A's)
Tuesday = Fight at lunch between two Freshman girls.
Wednesday = Seniors picking up prom pictures.
Thursday = The announcement that Principal Donners was retiring.
Friday = 3 months of complete and total freedom.

Seth and Jonah tried to drag me out to a party.
I was content in staying home.
Dad was there.
That meant horror movies until 5 a.m.
Pizza, sticky honey buns and, if mom went to sleep early enough, beer.
My dad's cool.
How cool?
He asked that Marc and his dad to join us.
And they did.

"Wine coolers, that is all you will get," my dad tells me as he sits a 4 pack of them on the coffee table. "Two each. Nurse them as if you just paid $10 each for them. No beer. If you are going to drink anything else, there are sodas in the fridge. Some kool-aid, too."

"Won't Lisel get upset that you are letting her drink at all," Mr. Chandoor asks my father rather casually as he takes his place on the wrap around couch in our living room.

"Not unless I was serving them a host of shots throughout the night. It's the first night of summer. The last before Marc goes off to school, at that! He deserves to have a drink or two before the graduation ceremony tomorrow," my father says, patting Marc's shoulder on his way to the kitchen. "Make yourselves comfortable. Rose, go ahead and put the first movie in."

"Actually, Mr. West, I was hoping that I could talk to Rose while you and my dad watch the first of the movies," Marc speaks up. "That is, if you don't mind, it's just that I really need to talk to her about something before tomorrow morning."

My dad nods.
I put the first movie into DVD for dad and Mr. Chandoor.
Marc leads the way to the kitchen.
Then up to my bedroom.
They don't know we're so far away now.
Mom is with his.
Dad is with his.
We stand in my bedroom.
Alone.

"I know you didn't really want to sit down there with them between us for six hours. I thought I would let us have a small escape. As it is, I don't have anything to really talk to you about. Nothing serious anyway," Marc clarifies once he's sure we're not being spied on. "I didn't know they were going to be so cool about things, though. Think they'll mind us making out on the loveseat while they watch the movies?"

"My dad is awesome but not that awesome," I laugh. "I don't think he'll even notice if we sit with each other instead of having them between us. Honestly, I think they have completely forgotten us being in the house by now."

His eyebrow raises.
He smirks.
I have a mini heart attack.

"If I had lesser control of myself," he clicks his tongue, bringing his body to rest in the bedroom floor, his back against my bedframe. "You are constantly wearing it down and you aren't even aware of it. Maybe that is why it's so effective. You aren't exactly throwing yourself at me but, I know that if I put my arms around you, you wouldn't pull away."

"Why would I pull away? I understand that you are used to it having someone frigid and unwilling to show her emotions, but I rather enjoy your show of affection," I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest so he has nothing to stare at. "You know I'm going to be at graduation tomorrow morning. It's a miracle to me that Seth's survived high school in the normal 4 year span."

"But you get to cheer for me first. I'm a 'C', afterall," he says, reaching his hands out to me. "Could you stop walking around like that and do me a favor, maybe sit over my lap or beside me or something?"

I sit beside him.
Legs out.
His arm falls around my shoulder.
I move closer so my head can rest on his shoulder.
I look down to our legs.
His are SO much longer than mine.
His feet look huge.

"Did I disappoint you by not sitting on your lap," I ask him.

"Only in a minor way. I will survive. Perhaps it was best you sit next to me instead. Having you in such a tempting position might have caused me to forget that we aren't exactly alone tonight," Marc tells me, his fingers dancing along the edge of my short sleeve and my naked arm. "I have to admit, Rose, I like the way you make me feel."

"And just how is that? Horny?"

"Sometimes," he admits with a laugh. "But it's not just that. I feel like I can relax around you. I don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing or being pushed away or put off. I never have to worry about offending you. You are just so...confident in the way you are."

"Confident is far from how I would describe myself. I can barely understand myself half the time. How can you see me the way I can't even see myself," I ask him, throwing an arm around him.

"I just do, I guess," Marc says, reaching for my hand with his free one. "Should we go back downstairs or do you really think they have forgotten about us by now, because, if they have, I want to just stay right here. Well, no, not right here but you know what I mean."

I stand up.
He follows suit.
We go downstairs just to peek at them.
Our dads are caught up in the movie, just like I knew they'd be.
They even drank our wine coolers!

Marc notices and seizes a chance to be alone.
He grabs me up, tossing me playfully over his shoulder.
I applaud his strength.
That is until he drops me high above my bed so I hit the mattress hard.

"What was that for? You had me impressed until you dropped me," I laugh as he dives onto the bed next to me.

"I haven't exactly perfected sweeping you around so you are in prime 'up-against-the-wall' position," he explains, kicking off his shoes. "Are you getting tired of me making sex jokes just yet because I can stop. If you want."

"I rather enjoy them. You wouldn't be the same without them," I joke. "We're here. Pretty much all night. Alone. Should I brace myself for the onslaught of your moves or should I lead you back down to watch movies with...."

He pulls me, by the belt loops, to face him.
His hands slide around my neck.
His palms are warm.
Liquifying.
I shut up and kiss him before he can kiss me.
He smiles against my lips then takes the lead.

Hour one:
Simple, but deep kisses.
His hands in my hair.
Mine in his.

Hour two:
Removal of shirts.
Hands on hotter skin.
Move underneath the covers after turning out the light.

Hour three:
Jeans off.
Harder movements accompany moans.
Moment of truth.

He sits up and leans over to find his jeans.
I lie back, watching his outline in the dark.
I want to say so many things.
"Hurry"
"Stop"
"Are you sure you want this?
"Are you sure you want this...with me?"

He pulls a wrapper from his wallet.
I wonder how long he's carried it around with him.
I can't keep thinking.
Sitting up along with him, I kiss the back of his neck.
His shoulders.
His spine.
He growls low and sexy.
Things happen quick from there.

It's on and we go back to kissing.
Last articles of clothing get removed with hurried fingers.
Pushes.
Pulls.
Low moans.
Hard pains.
Scratches.
Marks.
Pressure.

And then...
A burst of relief.
Complete release.
Arching and moaning, I want more of him.
As much as I can get.

"Rose, keep it down or..."

The door shoots open.
We forgot the lock.
The lights fly on in the overly dark room.
My life, as I know it, is over.
In more ways than one.

"What the hell is...," my dad is quick to stop, almost as quick as Marc is with covering us both up. "Oh. God. Get dressed and get downstairs. Now."

He shuts the door.
No.
Slams it.
Marc dresses as fast as I do.
We're in trouble.
At least this is going to be memorable.

"Don't worry, I will take all the blame for this," Marc says as he zips his jeans. "If anyone is going to get in trouble for this, it will be me, not you."

"Neither of us should be in trouble for any of this. I will just talk to my mom and dad. There is really nothing they can do about it now. So, if my dad's angry, he can just be that way," I say, trying to convince myself, not Marc, with my words. "The worst thing that can happen is I will get grounded. Or you get grounded."

"You know, if your dad was malicious enough, I could go to jail for this," he notes.

"He wouldn't dare to go that far," I tell him. "Please, he's known about Seth and Jonah smoking weed for at least a year now and he's not so much as put his two cents in about their usage of it. This is a minor blip on his radar."

"It's not the same, you know. Seth and Jonah smoking weed can't get them sexually transmitted diseases or make them pregnant. This can, in theory," Marc reminds me. "Besides, you're a girl. Your dad is pissed off, not at you, at me. That's how I intend to keep it."

I roll my eyes.
He wants to be my Hero.
But really, this isn't something I'm ashamed of.
I'm not going to act like I am.
Or like I'm sorry.
I'm not.
I'm glad it happened.
Sure, the timing could have been better but, I wouldn't take it back.
I hope he doesn't either.