Her mouth leaves mine. She marks my skin as hers, leaving a path of energy coursing through my body. Her hands tug at my shirt, lifting it. I step back and raise my arms and let her take it off of me. Her fingers glide over my skin, her lips follow leaving a trail of goose bumps.
My fingers run through her hair. I don’t want her to stop. She’s making me feel good, making me forget.
“You’re so beautiful, Ryan,” she says against my skin.
A loud bang above us breaks our reverie. We jump and she pulls away before I can touch her or return the sentiment. Someone’s awake and in the kitchen. We’re busted, both of us downstairs, Dylan half-dressed.
Dylan unlocks her legs so I can pick up my shirt. I slide it over my head without breaking eye contact with her. She looks away, her face falls. I’m not sure what I just did, but I do know that I don’t like seeing her look sad. I pull her chin toward me and kiss her deeply.
We hold hands walking down the hall. I made the contact first. I wanted to feel what I felt this morning with her in the basement. Maybe she gives me a newfound confidence that I never had with Hadley, or maybe it’s just that she’s different and understands me better than anyone.
A few of her girlfriends wink at us as we walk to our lockers and each time Dylan pulls me close and kisses me on the cheek. I walk her to class – also a first for me – and let my lips linger on hers longer than allowed in school.
“See you at lunch.” I take a step back, then another as
she watches me. I’m bumped into, sorry’s are muttered, but I never take my eyes off of her as she stands there watching me. Her smile is infectious. For the first time I look at her, really look at who Dylan Ross is, and I’m very thankful that she’s in my life.
I sit down at my desk and pull out my book. When I open it, there’s a sticky note stuck to my assignment. Happy Birthday is all it says and I know it’s from Dylan. I take out my wallet and place it in there carefully. That’s something I’ll save forever.
“’Sup, Ryan.”
I look over at Jake Miller, who just sat down. We’ve never spoken before, at least not in casual conversation. “Not much,” I answer as I put away my wallet.
“So, party at Dylan’s tonight?”
Mr. and Mrs. Ross are out of town this weekend for a police convention, but I didn’t think Dylan would invite people over.
“It’s your birthday, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah all right, party. Happy Birthday, man.” He pats me on the back and prepares for class.
All throughout my day that’s how things go. Kids I’ve never talked to come up and wish me a happy birthday and tell me they’ll see me later. A few ask me what I want for a gift and I just shake my head. Only Dylan has been buying me gifts the past few years so I only expect one from her.
When I see her at lunch, I grab her hand and pull her out into the hallway, walking down the deserted corridor and pushing her up against the lockers. I place my arms on either side of her and look down. She’s devious. She knows why we’re out here. She reaches up on her tiptoes and kisses me lightly.
“You’ll have fun, I promise.”
“You promise me a lot of things, but fun isn’t one of them.”
“People are excited. This will be good. They want to know you.”
I can’t deny that it wouldn’t be nice to have some more friends, especially guy friends. It’s always been Dylan and I’m not complaining, but sometimes I think it would be nice to have a buddy. I remember what Mr. Ross told me about my feelings. Feelings have words and words need to be expressed and no one can get into trouble for expressing themselves.
“I need to see my mom after school and then I have to work.”
“Only until nine, right?”
She knows my schedule and I like that she does. I nod.
“That gives me enough time to decorate and wrap your gift.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I know, you say that every year.” She’s right, I do. When it’s her birthday, I buy her a book or journal, never knowing what to get her. Her gifts are always wonderful because she puts thought into it, which is what I’m learning to do.
“Can I kiss you?” I ask her. She nods as my lips meet hers. Her fingers thread through my hair, making me hungry for her. I hang onto the top of the lockers afraid to let go for fear she’d disappear. She’s bringing all my emotions to the surface with the way she touches me and the new me really, really likes that.