Eighteen

Chapter 6 — Tom & Christina Meet

Tuesday, December 1^st

Christina

Looking in the mirror, I check my hair one last time. Perfect! I bounce downstairs to grab something quick to eat because I’m running late. Nicole’s going to be here any minute, and I don’t want to make her wait. After a kiss on Mom’s cheek, I run out the door, just as Nicole pulls up. As soon as I close her car door, she hits the gas pedal, and we take off for school. I’m glad she’s late, too, because she can get cranky if she’s held up. Lowering the passenger visor, I remove some lipstick from my purse and apply an even red coat. After blotting my lips with a tissue, I blow Nicole a kiss, causing her to giggle.

We walk into chemistry in full conversation, and I grab Nicole’s arm and freeze. Some disheveled long-haired galoot is sitting in the desk that’s behind mine.

“Great, the parties over. Who’s that?” I whisper to Nicole.

“I dunno, don’t recognize him.”

My loyal and empathetic girlfriend shrugs and leaves me standing there as steam pours from my ears. He has some nerve sitting behind me! The guy’s wearing a faded t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops like he’s some kind of hobo that just rolled into town. Crinkling my nose, I sit down, determined to pay no attention to the intruder.

Our class starts and the teacher announces we have a new student. No kidding! Why’d you put him behind me?

“Tom, will you please stand and tell us a little bit about yourself?”

I turn around to look at the vagrant as he unfolds himself from his desk and stands up. My eyes follow him as my head tilts back because he’s tall, almost as tall as Dad. He stands there with his broad shoulders and pecs bulging from under his shirt. Damn, he’s good-looking. This is what Samson must’ve looked like–tall, dark, and handsome. I mentally shake my head to get the image out of it. A sharp pain strikes my shin, and Nicole mimes that my mouth is draped open. I quickly shut it before anyone notices.

“Uh, sure. My name is Tom Griffin, and this is my third high school this year,” he says with a low, smooth voice that makes my spine shiver. Goosebumps grow on my arms, and a weird feeling comes over me. He looks down, and his hair falls around his clenched jaw as he returns to his seat. I become mesmerized by his every move.

“Thank you, Tom,” the teacher says. “We look forward to getting to know you better and having you in our class.”

Tom looks up, and his eyes strike me! They’re hazel but not ordinary hazel; they’re vibrant green, flaked with warm butterscotch. He puts his head back down and doesn’t notice me. What the hell? He didn’t even look at me. What am I…some kinda ghost or something?

Class ends, and I turn around to introduce myself, but he’s not there. Turning back, Nicole gives a nod towards the front of the room. How he slipped by, without me noticing, I’ve no idea, but he’s standing there talking with the teacher. Their conversation looks pretty involved, so I decide to not bother and leave for my next class.

Tom

It’s my first day of school, and things aren’t too bad…yet. The kids here are really cool, and I’m asked more than once about myself and what I like to do. There is certainly a stark difference between my previous school and this one.

While in my third period, European History (my class with sophomores), I get called to the principal’s office. When I get there, he’s waiting for me with the athletic director and the swim coach. They tell me to take a seat and then start interrogating me.

“Tom, did you compete in any sports in your previous high schools?” the principal asks.

“No, sir. In my first school, my freshmen year, the water polo and swim teams were the same, and I couldn’t make the team, so I took weight training instead. By the time I hit my junior year, the coach had a full team and didn’t want to deal with a first-timer. When I became a senior, the coach let me try out, and I made the water polo team. Before school started, my mom told me she was getting remarried and moving, so the coach took me off the team and put me back in weight training.”

“Why didn’t you make the team your freshman year?” the coach asks.

“I was scrawny and not strong enough for water polo or competitive swimming.”

“What about your second school?” the A.D. asks.

“The coach told me he didn’t have room on the water polo team for me and that if I wanted to, I could try out for the swim team when the time came, but my dad and his girlfriend split before that happened, and we moved here.”

“Well, water polo season is over, and now we’re training for the swim season,” the coach says.

“That’s what I really want to do, sir. I only went out for water polo so I could swim.”

The coach nods.

The A.D. says, “Well, since he doesn’t have a competition history, we won’t have to submit any paperwork to the district or the state. But we should call his previous schools and speak with their coaches.”

“Can you do that today?” the principal asks.

“Sure. I’ll let you know what they say.”

“Tom,” the coach says, “see me after school at the pool. I want to see you swim, and from there, we’ll talk about trying out for the team.”

“I don’t have my Speedo on me, sir.”

“Okay. Be at the pool at six forty-five in the morning then.”

Wednesday, December 2^nd

Tom

I’m at the pool at six-thirty, so I can be ready when the coach is. I’m on the deck when he comes out and tells me to swim a hundred meters. When I finish, and my head comes out of the water, I see the team file out of the locker room and stand around the coach.

“Tom, swim a 200 medley. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes, sir, but I don’t know how to butterfly.”

“Do the best you can.”

I look at the team standing around the coach, shaking their heads. I get out of the water and stand on the block. The coach blows his whistle, and I dive into the water. My first leg is the butterfly, and it’s really clumsy, but I’m not about to give up. My second leg is the backstroke, which I’m really good at, and I quickly get to the other end of the pool. My third leg is the breaststroke, not my best, but I’m okay at it. My final leg is my best stroke, freestyle. I push myself as hard as possible and end my 200 meters by slamming my hand against the wall. Surfing helped my lung capacity, but I’m still breathing hard, and I gulp fresh air into my lungs. Standing in the water, I look up at the coach and see the team nodding and whispering to each other behind his back.

It feels incredible to be back in the water.

“Tom, get out of the pool and meet me in my office. Guys, in the water. I want you warmed up by the time I get back out here.”

There’s a bunch of whooping as they all jump in the pool and start swimming.

I go into the locker room to the coach’s office, and he walks in and shuts the door.

“What’d you think, Tom?”

“Coach, I haven’t worked out since last summer. I know I can do better with practice.”

“Okay. I’ll let you work out with the team for two weeks, and then I’ll hold a try-out for you. If you can make the times, then you can join the team.”

My heart swells, and I feel great inside. I finally have a chance to swim on a team.

“Practice is at seven in the morning and the last period of the day until four-thirty in the afternoon. I’ll add you to the class if you’ll commit to being here for every practice.”

“I’ll be here, sir.”

“Good. We’ll work on your strokes, and by the time I hold your tryout, you should be able to make the team.”

I leave his office ecstatic that he’s going to let me practice and improve my form.

Thursday, December 3^rd

Christina

I jump in Nicole’s car with a renewed energy, like it’s the first day of school or something, and as soon as the door shuts, she blurts, “Want the scoop?”

“What scoop?”

“Tom Griffin.”

“Yeah! Spill it.”

“Well, Jim has a class with him after lunch. He heard Tom explain that he just moved here from the beach and wants to make the swim team. The coach is letting him work out until tryouts.”

I look at my watch and see we’re ahead of schedule. “Want to stop by the pool before class?” I ask, a little too eagerly.

“Way ahead of you; why do you think I’m early?”

We get to school and hastily walk to the pool, just in time to see Tom get out of the water. He doesn’t use the ladder like most other swimmers; he puts his palms flat on the deck and effortlessly pushes himself out of the water. When his feet hit the deck, he’s in a squatting position, and when he stands up, his muscles ripple, like a stallion, as he shakes the water from his hair and wipes his arms and chest down with his hands. Nicole’s eyes are as big as saucers as I grab her arm and pull her away to go to class.

Tom walks into chemistry a little before the bell rings. I take a nonchalant peek over my shoulder and see that he’s dressed nicer today: a polo shirt and some jeans. His sleeves are tight, straining around his bulging biceps. He slides into his desk and opens his book in one fluid motion.

When class ends, I turn around to introduce myself, and again, he’s not there. I glance around the room and don’t see him, so I look at Nicole, who just shakes her head in wonderment. He must be in a hurry to get to his next class.

Friday, December 4^th

Christina

I rush out of the house because Nicole is picking me up early. We get to class and pose ourselves so that Tom will notice us when he walks in. We wait, but he doesn’t show, so I face the front just as the final bell rings.

Cold water sprays the back of my arm as I hear the desk behind me clatter, so I turn around and see Tom flip his wet hair out of his eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t have time to dry my hair this morning.”

“It’s okay,” I say, wiping the droplets away. I shiver but don’t know if it’s because of his smooth, deep voice or the cold water hitting my arm.

When the teacher gives us time to study during class, I hear Tom grunt. I turn around to look at him and see his forehead buried in his arms. He notices me and lifts his head.

“Sorry, I’m so far behind, and I’m just not getting this. I’ll try to be quieter.”

“I can help you if you want.”

He looks me in the eyes, and my heart leaps as a bit of my soul melts. His gaze is intent, but the corners of his eyes show contentment. He narrows his eyes slightly and opens his mouth as if to say something but then closes it without a word as he lowers his head and blushes. He’s cute when he blushes…

“Thanks, but I don’t want to be any trouble. This is my problem, and I need to deal with it.”

What? I just offered him help. No guy has ever turned me away when I’ve offered to help. “Really, it’s no trouble. I’ll learn it better too.”

He looks back up at me, and I give him the warmest smile I can muster. I feel like a moth to a flame.

He smiles back and says, “I guess that makes sense.”

“Meet me at lunch today, and we’ll see how far behind you are. Then, if you want, we can hit the library after school too.”

“Uh…I have a job interview after my workout today, but tomorrow will work.”

That must be why he’s dressed nicely again. I do prefer him in a collared shirt and jeans; he looks more…scrumptious.

“By the way, I’m Tom Griffin.” He puts his hand out to shake mine.

“Uh…yeah, I know. I was here when you introduced yourself to the class.”

“Oh…right. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m Christina Taylor.” I put my hand out to meet his, and when our palms touch, there’s an electric shock that hits me. I get goosebumps again, and my cheeks feel hot.

Class ends, and I turn around to say goodbye, but he’s already out of his seat, walking away. My eyes are drawn to his butt, flexing in his jeans, and I bite my lip in anguish. His ass looks tight and firm with the perfect curve. There’s a small tear in the seat of his pants, and I think I see a little skin, but I’m not quite sure. Looking at Nicole, her lips are puckered as she lets out a soft whistle.

I lean over to her, and in a low whisper, say, “Wow…look at that ass. I think I’m in love.”

She answers back, “Get in line, girl. He’s babelicious!”

Mischievously, the corners of my mouth curl slightly, and I quip, “Uh-uh…you have a guy, this one’s mine.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t going to have a boyfriend your senior year. Remember?”

“Uhhh…right. Uhm…that may change.”

***************

Nicole and I sit in the lunchroom, and my heel won’t stop bouncing while my fingers drum on the table.

“Why are you so nervous and fidgety?”

“I don’t know,” I answer with a quiver in my voice.

“Well, calm down, or you’ll blow it.”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly to relax. Just as I calm down, he steps through the doorway, and I don’t know if it’s a hallucination or what, but it looks like a beam of light casts itself across him. He stands there, scanning the room, looking like some kind of Adonis with his handsome young face and bulging muscles. He smiles and looks at me, and I melt. I know it’s silly, but my heart flutters and my muscles clench down low as he walks towards me.

Tom sits down, and the first thing I notice is the smell of chlorine from his hair. I haven’t been this close to him before and notice his toffee-colored curls mixed with wavy strands that fall down to his shoulders. I fight the urge to reach in and run my fingers through his mane. Instead, I take another deep breath and let it out slowly so he won’t notice.

He explains why he’s behind and where he’s at, and I know, instantly, I can help him, but it’s going to take some work…yes, we’ll have to spend a lot of time together to get him caught up. Bummer. We agree to meet tomorrow after his workout and go to the city library. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day…

Saturday, December 5^th

Tom

I really like my new school…we only have one practice today since it’s Saturday. Our warmup is twenty laps, and I feel great. This is what I crave. The water flowing over my back, turning my head to breathe from under my armpit, and the power of my legs churning the water as they propel me at a steady pace. I love how the water feels against my fingers as they cut the surface and my triceps tensing as I pull the water underneath me. Yes, this is what I crave, being in the water, swimming. This is where I think best, in the pool while I’m swimming, and my mind wanders as I think about my first week here.

I really like this school…everyone is so nice and that Christina Taylor, man is she hot! I lose track of how many laps I’ve done and don’t care. I decide to keep swimming until the coach blows his whistle.

Today Christina’s going to start tutoring me. When I first met her, I got all flustered. Hot chicks do that to me; my tongue gets tied, and it’s hard to think straight. Usually, I’m pretty good about suppressing my fear around them, but not Christina. She has the most beautiful, hypnotic eyes I’ve ever seen. She doesn’t even have to talk to me to get me flustered. Why, just yesterday, I watched her, and that ass of hers, walk down the hall. My pants bulged, and my heart quickened as she distanced herself from me. Even in the cold water, my cock twitches thinking about it.

I’ll never know how I got the desk behind her, but boy, am I glad I did. Sitting at lunch yesterday, I wanted to bury my nose in her hair; the way she smells gives me goosebumps.

I need to restrain myself and play it cool, so I don’t scare her away.

We’re going to the library this afternoon after practice, and I feel nervous, anxious, and excited all at the same time. I’ve never felt this way around a girl before. Sure, I’ve been nervous and scared but never anxious and excited. I just want to be next to her…I want to hold her, yeah, that’s what it is; I want to hold her in my arms and kiss her luscious red lips.

I hear the whistle blow when I come to the wall, so I stop. I lift my goggles as my chest heaves, gasping for air. Christina’s in the stands, and I have to look away and pretend she isn’t there, or I won’t be able to focus on our drills.

The coach has Mark, one of my teammates, come into my lane and help me with my techniques. I listen intently as he explains the optimal path my hands need to travel, from their entry point, to how I pull the water under me as I swim freestyle. Next, the coach has me swim another two hundred meters, and I focus on what I’ve been taught. When I finish, he blows his whistle and calls me out of the water to teach me his philosophy of the sport while the other swimmers keep going with the next drill.

Christina

Tom’s been on my mind all morning, and I’m sitting in the stands as he swims, watching his arms and back muscles contract as his body glides through the water. He has an ease about him, a smooth, fluid ease. Even his gait is smooth when he pulls himself from the water and walks over to his coach. The way he moves is…delectable. He’s listening to his coach, and a smile comes to his face; even his smile is smooth…no…infectious, his smile is infectious.

Glancing at my watch, I realize there are thirty minutes left of practice. I hope he knows I’m here because he hasn’t looked at me once.

Why doesn’t he look at me? I’m getting all worked up just watching him, and he doesn’t even notice I’m here.

Tom finishes with his coach and disappears into the locker room with the rest of the team, and despair descends on me because I can’t see him. I don’t understand why I’m like this around him. Guys aren’t supposed to have this kind of effect on me, but Tom does, and he doesn’t even know it.

I sit waiting, knowing he’ll emerge from the locker room, but I’m impatient, so I bury my face in a textbook to try and get him off my mind.

The bleacher’s quake, and I hear a squeak to my left, so I look up, and there he is! It’s comforting to know he’s aware that I’m waiting for him. I stand and grab my stuff.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

“Yep.”

“Can I carry your books?”

“Uh, sure, if you want to.”

He takes my books, and we leave the bleachers to start our walk to the library.

After two hours of studying, we’ve made good progress, but it’s going to take some work to get him caught up. He’s intelligent, brilliant in fact; I can tell by how he regurgitates what I’ve explained to him. There’s a noise behind me, so I turn…it’s Nicole.

“How’s it going?” she whispers. “Have you got him up to speed yet?”

“It’s going to take a few sessions because he’s pretty far behind.”

“Tom,” Nicole says as she lightly touches his forearm with her fingers, “if she’s not explaining things right, let me know, and I’ll help you instead.”

My heart pounds, and blood rushes to my face…I want to yell at Nicole that he’s mine, and she can’t have him, but I keep those words buried deep in my soul. Besides, he’s not mine at all; he wouldn’t even notice me if it wasn’t for our chemistry class together.

Tom smiles as he moves his arm away and says, “Thanks, Nicole, but Christina’s doing fine.”

A shiver runs down my spine when he says that.

Saturday, December 12^th

Christina

We’ve studied every day for a week preparing for the next exam that’s coming up. Tom’s worried about it, so we put in extra time to make sure he has the chapter on chemical bonding and molecular geometry down. Fortunately, he got the job he interviewed for, but it cuts into our study time, so we make it work.

After practice, we meet as usual, but instead of heading towards the library, he takes a left and walks away from me.

“Where’re you going?”

“To the parking lot.”

“Why?”

“To drive my car to the library.”

“Your car? When did you get a car?”

“My grandma sold it to me for a dollar, if you can believe that. She wanted to give it to me, but my dad wouldn’t allow it, so she sold it to me. It’s not much of a car, really, more a bucket of bolts, rusted and running on three cylinders, but I’ll get her fixed up, so she’s reliable.”

Excited, I quicken my pace to walk with him to the parking lot. Now that he has a car, we can spend more time together because Nicole won’t have to pick me up.

It’s getting more challenging to focus on chemistry when I’m with Tom in the library. Sitting across from him, I daydream about lying in a field of long golden grass, kissing. When I sit next to him, I want to run my fingers through his hair and fall into his strong arms as he ravishes me, like some Victorian romance hero. It’s a no-win situation, though. He seems oblivious to my signals: fingernails lightly grazing his arms, laughing at his jokes, or giving him a toothy smile. I keep hoping he’ll ask me out, but he seems content to just sit here and study. I’m so frustrated right now.

Monday, December 14^th

Christina

It’s the day before the big test, and we’re in the library again. Tom understands the chapter really well. In fact, he helped me with a few problems I couldn’t grasp. We’re sitting next to each other, and the clean smell of chlorine wafts up my nose as I sit as close to him as I dare.

I snap the book shut. “Well, I think that’s it. We’re as prepared as we’re going to be.”

“I can’t thank you enough for all the help you’ve given me. You’ve been a real lifesaver.”

He touches my hand, and electricity shoots through me. He begins to stand, and I notice him lean towards me like he’s going to kiss me…he does kiss me…on the cheek? Not wanting to waste the opportunity, I quickly turn my head and peck him on the lips. Oh God, what have I done? I’ve never been that forward before…what’ve I done?

Tom freezes and then sits back down, his eyes riveted on me. A feeling of dread falls over me because I really screwed up. There’s a knot in my stomach, growing tighter each second that he stares at me. Time slows to a crawl, and it feels like he’s been fixated on my eyes for an hour. In reality, it’s only a second or two, but it seems longer. Finally, he places his hand on my cheek and leans forward as he kisses me gently on the lips.

The floodgates open, and my sexual tension releases. I put my arms around his neck, and he embeds his fingers in my hair as we kiss. It’s soft at first and then becomes frantic. He pulls away, and I panic but then feel the tip of his tongue under my top lip as he pulls it to his mouth. I take the cue and reach for his bottom lip, tugging it gently between my teeth before I open my mouth to meet his lips. His tongue reaches into my mouth, and I accept him; no, I beg him to go further as our tongues curl around each other.

My insides spark when I feel the texture of his tongue slide against mine, and I’m energized from head to toe. My pulse quickens, and it’s hard to breathe. There are goosebumps on the back of my arms, and my face is hot as the redness burns my cheeks. We’re just getting into a groove when he pulls away, leaving me gasping for his love and attention.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I got carried away,” he pants.

“No. No, it’s fine.” I stutter as I catch my breath. “It was nice; I liked it.”

He leans in again, and this time when I put my arms around his neck, I hold tight so he can’t get away. We kiss again, an extremely passionate kiss that I’ve never experienced before. It’s as if my whole soul reaches into him and touches his inner sanctum.

My mind drifts, fantasizing about us making love, as my panties dampen. Our tongues duel for real estate, and his strong arms hold me tight against him. Our lips are in perfect unison when I hear someone behind me clear their throat. I panic at being caught making out in public. Prying my mouth from his, I turn around to see who’s there. It’s Nicole. I love her, but she has the worst timing!

“Sorry, kids, but didn’t you want to go shopping this afternoon, Christina?”

Bringing myself back to the here and now, I inhale deeply to catch my breath. I haven’t let go of my prize, so I slowly release my grip and back away.

“Uh…yeah…I forgot. Give me a few.”

I move my hand to his cheek, his blushing cheek, and hold him as I give him another kiss, a quick one this time.

“See you at school tomorrow?” I ask.

“Of course.”

I don’t want to move, and I certainly don’t want to leave, but if I don’t go now, I’ll be like a tattoo–affixed to his lips forever. At least now, he’ll ask me out.

I grab my stuff and walk with Nicole to her car. When we’re out of earshot, she asks me how we started kissing.

“So much for no boyfriend your senior year,” Nicole teases.

“I know, I know, but…there’s no way I’m passing him up.”

“Did he ask you out?”

“No, but I’m sure he will. Maybe tomorrow at school.”

It’s winter, but it feels like spring. The birds are chirping, and the sun feels warm on my skin. My feet feel lighter, and I can’t wipe the smile off my face as we talk about Tom; he’s the only thing I can think of.

Nicole drops me off at home, and I burst through the door, excited to tell Mom the great news.

“He kissed me, Mom, you’re not going to believe it. He finally kissed me!”

“Who kissed you, dear?”

Who? Duh! “Tom, you know, the new guy at school that I’ve been helping with chemistry?”

“Sounds like there’s a whole different chemistry the two of you’ve been working on,” she says with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” I laugh and see that Mom’s busy making supper. “Can I help you?”

I set my books down and get to work in the kitchen, so everything will be ready when Dad gets home.

Tuesday, December 15^th

Tom

The water’s cold this morning, and I’m pushing hard because I want to get my times down. Mark and the coach have helped me improve my style, and I can feel the difference when I swim. I asked the coach to teach me butterfly, but he instructed me to focus on the three strokes I already know because it takes a couple of years to learn it well enough to compete.

I feel exhilarated; it could be the cold water, or it could be how Christina and I ended our study session yesterday afternoon. I can’t believe she likes me enough to kiss me; she’s so hot and way out of my league.

Asking her out crosses my mind, but my confidence wanes. A girl that pretty doesn’t go out with someone like me, especially with the car I drive. Kissing is one thing, but dating is another. I think about Candice. She loved to kiss, and we had great sex; at least, I thought it was great, but she made it clear we weren’t going to date. She taught me about intercourse and oral sex and which areas on a woman to pay attention to, but she didn’t want to date. I think about Lindsey and the one date we went on. She seemed to enjoy it but didn’t want to go out again, and she certainly never spoke to me at school. No, I don’t want to blow it…if I ask Christina out, she’ll probably blow me off and not talk to me anymore.

Christina

I’m sitting on my desk facing the door, waiting for Tom to walk in. Someone slaps my knee, so I look over. It’s Nicole; she’s exasperated with me.

“Hey there, I’m talking to you.”

“I know. I’m listening.”

“Yeah, maybe, but you haven’t stopped staring at the door.”

“Yeah, yeah…I’m watching for Tom.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…,” her voice trails off as she turns to the front of the room because the bell’s going to ring soon.

His shadow appears down the hall before he does, so I stand up and smile at him as he walks through the door. The bell rings, so we don’t have a chance to talk, but a wave of calm washes over me when he smiles back.

When class ends, he doesn’t bolt like usual, and when I turn around, he’s sitting there gazing at me. Now that’s more like it! We talk about the test and how we thought we did. Nicole gets tired of waiting for me and leaves. We walk into the hallway to spend a few minutes with each other before going to our classes. He leans in and kisses me, and I feel the same shockwaves as yesterday. He clutches my hand and tells me he wants to see me at lunch, and I fight the urge to hold onto him so he can’t leave. My breath escapes in a heavy sigh as he walks away–that gorgeous ass, what a babe.

***************

Tom’s sitting next to me at the lunch table as we listen to Nicole talk about Jim and what they’re doing on their next date. Hint, hint, Tom…are you getting the hint?

When Nicole stops talking, I feel more than see Tom lean into me. Then, with his hot breath in my ear, he whispers, “Wanna find someplace quiet to make out?”

Heck yeah! Maybe he’ll ask me out if we’re alone. I nod and tell Nicole we need to leave. She shrugs and leaves, walking in the opposite direction, presumably to find Jim. I know just where to go where it’s quiet; there’s a dead-end hallway that leads to a classroom, and nobody will be there because it’s lunchtime. So we spend the rest of the lunch period kissing, but he doesn’t ask me out.

Thursday, December 17^th

Christina

Two days have passed, and we’ve done the same thing both days at lunch, make out, which is great because I love kissing him, but I really want him to ask me out, and I’m getting tired of waiting. Do I need to ask him out instead? Me? Ask a guy out? Phht.

Nicole catches me after dance class. “How’s it going with Tom? You haven’t said anything about him in the last couple of days. Getting tired of him already?

“No. I’m frustrated but not tired of him.”

“Why? Because he hasn’t asked you out?”

“I don’t know what else to do. I know he’s attracted to me; I can feel it when we’re together. The way he presses his body against mine makes it obvious.”

“Maybe he’s just dense.”

“He’s no dunderhead. We know that…c’mon now.”

“No, not stupid. Dense, clueless, you know, as in he doesn’t know much about women?”

“Maybe…I don’t know…the way he kisses…do you think I should ask him instead?”

“No. Try drawing attention to your body and see what he says.”

“Like what?” I ask. “You mean…ask him if he likes my butt or something? That’s lame.”

“No. Compare yourself to the other girls, like maybe, the size of your tits or something. Guys can’t resist talking about boobs. Just see what he says, you know, what his interest level is.”

“Maybe. Tomorrow is our last day before Christmas break, and I want him to ask me out before then.”

I meet Tom after practice, and we go to the library and sit at a table hidden away in the back. We don’t need to study, but it’s a quiet place to talk and make out. When there’s a lull in the conversation, I think of Nicole’s advice. Taking a deep breath, I ask what I believe is a ridiculous question.

“Tom, how do you feel about breasts?”

He gives me a weird look, raises his eyebrows, and then smiles.

“I like them. A lot.”

“No, I mean, do you like them big, small, what?”

“Near as I can tell, your breasts are perfect, Christina.”

“That’s not answering the question.”

“Okay. In my view, more than a mouthful is a waste.” He then reaches down and pulls me in tight, and gives me a deep kiss.

Friday, December 18^th

Christina

I jump in Nicole’s car when she picks me up for school, and she asks how it went.

“He didn’t ask me out. But, when it comes to breasts, he says: “More than a mouthful’s a waste.”

Nicole laughs. “That would make a funny bumper sticker.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. You’re right though, that would be funny. I have a project due in woodshop today and have been trying to figure out what to do. I’m going to make him a plaque with that saying on it.”

I meet Tom after his last class on his way to practice. I give him the sign, and he gives me a deep kiss in exchange.

“That’s awesome! Thank you,” he says.

“Today’s the last day of school for the year,” I remind him.

“I know. What are you doing after I get out of practice this afternoon?”

“Leaving on vacation for a week, to my aunt and uncle’s house.”

“So, I won’t see you?”

“No.” I want to drop a hint for him to call me or ask me out, but I talk myself out of it because he has to make that move, not me.

Tom gives me one final kiss and tells me goodbye. He turns around with his head drooped as he walks away. Why didn’t he ask me out? I fight the urge to run after him and do what he should have done a long time ago. But, just as I’m about to give in, Nicole walks up and puts her arm around my waist.

“No dice?”

“No.”

“C’mon, let’s go hang out at the mall,” Nicole suggests.

We walk to her car slowly. I keep hoping that Tom will run up behind us, and he’ll ask me out, but I’m disappointed as I open the car door and crawl in.

Friday, December 25^th

Tom

It’s a little after ten in the morning, and I’m cold, so I turn on the heater in the apartment. I woke up at seven for who knows what reason. I’m alone and cold. I took a shower this morning and put on some sweats to warm up, but they don’t help my coldness inside.

I haven’t seen my father since Wednesday morning and Christina since our last day of school. I was bummed when she told me that I wouldn’t see her after school, and I’ve thought about going over to her house, but she said she’d be on vacation all week. Besides, this time of year is traditionally for families. I don’t know what her parents would think about me interrupting their holiday by showing up on their doorstep.

I feel so lonely, and I miss Christina. I want to call her, so I look up “Taylor” in the White Pages, but there are at least thirty of them, and I don’t know the names of her mom and dad. I don’t see her address listed, so I figure that her number must be one of those listed without an address. I’m so stupid for not getting her number.

This is the first time I think I’ve ever been alone on Christmas. We don’t even have a tree. Grabbing a book, I sit down to read. I’m a couple chapters into it when there’s a knock at the door, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. I get up to answer it, wondering who it would be. Before opening the door, hoping it’s Christina, I take a deep breath and straighten my hair with my fingers. It’s not her, but instead two women I’ve missed dearly and my heart leaps!

“Mary? Candice? What are you doing here?”

“Are you going to invite us in?” Mary asks.

“OH…yeah, of course!”

I step aside, and they walk in. I reach out and give Candice a tight hug, and as I release my grip, she reaches up and kisses me. I step over to Mary and hug her too.

“What are you guys doing here?” I ask.

“Well, since you never call or come to visit, we decided to visit you. This place doesn’t look too Christmassy. Where are all the decorations and stuff?”

“Dad didn’t want to get a tree because he would have to buy all the decorations for it too.”

“Where is Dad?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him for a couple of days. He said he was going to a party and that he’d see me in a few days. That’s the last I’ve heard from him. How’d you guys find us?”

“Grandma. She came to visit last week and said you guys had moved here. What happened to Dad’s place at the beach?”

“Dad and Karen broke up.”

I tell them all about the few months I lived at the beach with Dad. I tell them about the parties, the orgies, and the random sex we had all the time. I tell them about Lindsay, surfing, and how much the school sucked.

“Wow, that’s quite the adventure for just a few months,” Candice says. “So, you only went out with Lindsay once?”

“Yeah. The only time she’d talk to me was when we were surfing. The rest of the time, she didn’t even acknowledge me. It was really weird and random.”

“What about here? How do you like this school?” Mary asks.

“I love it! The coach let me work out with the swim team for a couple weeks, and then he let me try out. I made the team, so now I’m practicing with them every day…well, almost. We don’t have practices on Sundays, and of course, we don’t have one today either.”

“Have you met any girls here?”

“Yeah. I’ve met a couple. I have a girlfriend…I think.”

“You think?” Candice asks. “That’s something you pretty much know…you do, or you don’t.”

“Well, I’m kind of confused about her. She loves to make out with me but hasn’t said she wanted to go out on a date or anything.”

I tell them all about Christina and how she helped me catch up with chemistry and all the time we’ve spent together. I even tell them about the sign she made me in woodshop.

“You’re an idiot!” Mary exclaims.

“What’ya mean?”

“She doesn’t ask you out. You ask her out!”

“I thought about asking her out, but I was afraid she’d say no and tell me to get lost.”

“What? You are an idiot!”

“Look. I’ve only been on one date in my life, and that was with Lindsay. I asked her out again, and she said she wouldn’t date me. The only time she’d see me was when we were surfing.” I look at Candice and continue, “When we were together, you said we weren’t boyfriend/girlfriend. Fuck, if you wouldn’t date me while we were having sex together, then and Lindsay wouldn’t go out with me a second time. What hope is there?”

I slump back into the couch and hang my head. Then, looking up at Mary, I say, “Fuck, I must be the only guy in the world that’s had as much sex as I have but have only been on one date.”

Candice gets an exasperated look on her face and sits next to me. “Tom. Yes, I said I wasn’t your girlfriend. But we did go on dates. Don’t you remember going to the movies together? What about all the other things we went out and did?”

“Those were dates?”

Candice leans back and shakes her head. “Yes, Tom. Those were dates.”

“I’m an idiot!”

Mary reaches over and pulls me into her to give me a hug.

“The first thing you do when you see Christina next week is apologize and ask her out. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now show us around your new place and then we’ll find someplace open and get some chow,” Mary says.

It takes all of thirty seconds to show them the apartment. Mary tells me that she’s concerned with how long Dad’s been gone, but I explain that it’s no big deal because I usually only see him a few nights of the week and that he’s gone just about every weekend.

I get dressed, and we get in Mary’s car to find an open diner. They tell me what they’ve been up to, how Mom and Lisa are doing, which lifts my spirits. By the time they drop me back off at home, I feel much better, even happy. I still miss Christina, but I’ve resolved that I’m going to ask her out, no matter what.

Monday, December 28^th

Christina

Christmas break is crawling by. At first, it was great being at my aunt and uncle’s house, but there wasn’t much to do after Christmas. So we came home the day after Christmas, and I’ve sat here hoping Tom would show up on my doorstep or that the phone would ring and it would be him, but nothing.

I have a week left of break, and I’m sitting here on my couch moping. I’ve concluded that it shouldn’t be my problem if he doesn’t want to date me or even talk to me. When we go back to school, I’ll cut him off and tell him no more making out. My heart and brain have an intense argument because I love how he kisses, but he’s such a lameoid for not asking me out.