Before Someday- Alex Tells All

Part 1- The Wait

Chapter 1

Did you get a look at the fresh meat in there?

It’s not the first time we’ve set eyes on a new crop of freshmen. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that from one of the guys either. And I know it won’t be the last.

Hell yeah, Ben says. Once school starts, I think I’ll call dibs on one of them.

Figures. What a dick. By the time the year is over, he’ll probably have called dibs on each and every one. That’s how Ben is when it comes to girls—perpetual flirt, never one to stick with one chick. Mom calls him the heart breaker, a charmer. He’s good-looking and he knows it. Girls don’t stand a chance against him. One of these days a girl isn’t going to fall for his shit. She’s going to give him a run for his money and he’s going to be whipped. He won’t know what the hell to do with himself and I’m going to laugh my ass off. I can’t wait to call him a pussy like he calls me.

There you have it. According to my best friend, I’m a pussy. A vagina. A fucking cunt. A twat. What else has Ben called me? Pick your favorite word for pansy. Because I believe in love, he thinks I’m a total sucker. Apparently, believing in love isn’t normal for a seventeen-year-old straight dude. While most guys my age are looking to get laid and running from girls who just want to hold hands and go to the movies, I’m all about finding someone to truly love. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a guy. Getting laid ranks right up there with jacking off every day, but sleeping around doesn’t appeal to me. Call me old-fashioned, or a bitch, all you want—sex means more to me than blowing my load.

Well, shit, it’s easy to believe in love in my house. My dad found my mom in high school. My grandpa found my grandma when they were teenagers, too. The men in my family have never been ashamed to tell everyone about how they fell head over heels in love at such a young age. I certainly wouldn’t call Dad or Gramps pussies, that’s for sure. They’d both show me how much of a pussy they aren’t—with Gramps’s bad hip and all. Ben should get it. It’s not like he comes from a broken home. His parents were high school sweethearts, too.

It’s not like Alex is looking, Ben says. He’s too busy trying to figure out if Lydia is the one. He hangs his air quotes on the one, his facial expression that of disgust.

I don’t tell him this, but I’ve pretty much discovered Lydia is not the one. If I have to take time to figure it out, that says it all. I like the girl. I just don’t see us lasting much longer. She’s not all that into me either. I’m just another notch on her black studded belt. She’s far from what the guys would call a pussy. Lydia doesn’t have any interest in finding love. She’s more interested in kissing as many frogs as possible. She might find her prince sometime in grad school at the rate she’s going. But if you asked her she wouldn’t complain. She’s having a lot of fun doing it. Hell, maybe she belongs with Ben. They’re definitely the mirror image of each other in the dating department.

You guys ready for a game of pool? My soon to be ex-girlfriend pokes her head out from the screen door and calls out to us in the backyard. The guys always end up out here to get away from Lydia and her squealing friends. When they’re done gossiping and talking shit about everyone, Lyd usually summons us inside. I guess they’re ready.

Sounds good. I stand. I gotta take a leak first.

The guys and I make our way inside and I head down the hall for the restroom.

Lydia’s sister Steph and her friends are in her bedroom. The door is cracked and I can hear them talking. I don’t plan on listening, but I hear my name.

Your turn, Meg. Who do you think is cuter? Alex or Ben? one of the girls asks. Sounds like Stephanie. I’ve been around her enough to know that voice. She’s always so animated and loud.

Alex. Meg doesn’t hesitate and that makes me smile in triumph. Take that, Ben Calloway. The little freshman thinks I’m cuter. I happen to think she’s the cutest of her friends, too. She’s actually quite beautiful. And what’s even better is she has no idea how beautiful she is.

I remember the first time I saw her; she had her hair in a messy ponytail. It had been kind of sagging to the side and hair was falling out all over the place. She wasn’t wearing any makeup either, which was a nice change of pace from most girls I know. Her attire included fuzzy pajama pants with yellow happy faces on them and a big T-shirt. I was picking up Lydia and she was at their house for a sleepover with Steph. Most girls would have made a quick getaway into the room if a guy walked in. Not Meg. Her cheeks flushed pink for a moment, then she waved at me, and continued watching a movie. I thought it was cool. Different.

So I went into the living room where she sat and plopped myself next to her on the couch while I waited for Lydia to do only God knows what. There were other places to sit, but the spot right next to Meg appeared so damn inviting.

Where’s Steph? I asked her, digging my hand into the bowl of popcorn that sat in her lap. We both shoved some popcorn in our mouths at the same time.

Some of it spilled from her lips as she tried to reply, Taking a shower.

I grabbed another handful.

Help yourself, she said, a half-smile spread across her soft face. "You kinda remind me of Ashton Kutcher in What Happens in Vegas right now."

It took me a second to recall the movie. When I did, I told her, Except we’re not married and I’m not shoving popcorn down my pants. Her eyes widened as she looked back and forth from my face to my fly. Or maybe you wouldn’t mind eating out of here? I don’t know why I joked with her like that; it’s not like me to be so crude.

She sure as hell surprised me with her comeback, though. A little ball sweat never hurt anyone. And then she grabbed another handful of popcorn from the bowl and shoved it into her mouth, some toppling out again. It was the funniest moment ever, leaving us both laughing until my sides hurt. In that moment, there was no doubt in my mind I liked this girl and wanted to get to know her better.

What are you wearing on the first day of school? another girl asks, pulling me from my memory. Probably the tall blonde. I bet she plans out her wardrobe at the beginning of every week. From what I’ve seen, she’s the polar opposite of Meg. All the guys are going to be checking us out. We need to make sure we look good.

Seriously? I roll my eyes. I can’t remember what Lydia was wearing five minutes ago, yet I remember the freshman was wearing pajama pants last week. Shows how much guys really care about clothes. That’s my cue to leave.

Who the hell cares, Amy? I’d hope a guy would like me for more than my fashion sense. That was Meg again. Good girl. I stay put for a minute longer.

You would say that, Meg. Look at you. Catty, catty. Not my thing. Girls are evil.

I’m out, before I walk into that room and say something I shouldn’t.

I head to the bathroom instead. Lydia is probably wondering where I am. Actually, probably not. I don’t know what’s keeping us together. We’re more friends than anything. Friends with benefits. And not the benefits you’re thinking either. More like kissing benefits. A solid date to parties and to the movies.

When I open the door to exit the bathroom, I’m chest to face with Meg. Megan. Steph calls her Meggie. It’s cute. To me, she’s Megan. She might be young, but she has this maturity about her that warrants her full name.

Hey, she says. Didn’t mean to smack right into you.

Again with the pink cheeks. It’s not at all bad on the ego to have that effect on a girl.

It’s okay, I say, rubbing my chest. I don’t think you broke anything.

She smiles. You’re like twice my size. Stop being a wimp. She knocks me in the chest with her small fist.

A chuckle escapes from my throat. Ouch. You’re hurting me with your words now.

I’m sure you’ll be just fine, she says.

Hey, dick, Ben yells at me from the other end of the hall. Are you going to stand there and make small talk all day or are we going to play?

Looking over at him, I yell back. Shut the hell up. I’ll be right there.

Ben disappears around the corner and I turn back to the girl in front of me.

Gotta go. I shrug. Talk to you later, Megan.

She looks surprised, her brows furrow at the center of her forehead, making her look absolutely adorable. You know my name?

Uh huh, I say with a nod, a grin playing on my lips. I leave her in the hall and head back to the game room to Lydia and our friends. For some strange reason, I’d rather stay in the hall with Megan—watching her skin blush and talking about nothing.

* * *

Baby doll, I think it’s time for us to move on, Lydia tells me.

We’re sitting in my car in her driveway after school. I steal a glance at her. She’s smiling. I feel like an asshole for not being torn up about us calling it quits, but I’m not bothered at all. We went to the last party of the summer together, kicked off the school year as a couple, yet we both knew it was a matter of time.

Oh, come on, she says. I know you’re not sad. This has been coming for a long time. We’re like really good friends. Not really boyfriend and girlfriend. Let’s just be what we are right now. Well, without kissing each other.

She makes me laugh. Cool. You’re right. I squeeze her hand. Sounds good to me.

God, you’re going to make someone really happy someday. You’re a fucking awesome catch, Alex Aguilar. You know that? She leans over and smashes her glossy lips against my cheek with a loud muah.

Yeah. I wipe the oil slick from my skin. I know. Your loss, I say, completely joking with her and she knows it. Now, get out of my car.

You don’t want to come in? We can watch a movie or play air hockey until you have to go back to school.

Not today. Coach wants us back earlier than usual, so I don’t have much time.

Lydia narrows her eyes at me. Damn, I sure am going to miss you all sweaty in your uniform.

It’s not like I’m going anywhere. You’ll still see me. And, let’s be honest, it’s not like you’re going to stop looking, Lyd.

She ignores me, opening the car door and turning in her seat to get out. She closes the door behind her but pokes her head back in the open window, resting her arms on the sill. You got that right. We may have broken up, but I’m not dead. As long as you look like that, she wags her finger up and down at me, I’ll be looking. She winks. Bye, Alex.

She doesn’t give me time to respond to her bluntness. She walks to her front door, shaking her nice ass back and forth at me. Yeah, I’m not dead, either.

* * *

Hey, check it out, Ben says, pointing to a group of girls walking on the sidewalk. What the fuck? It’s almost ten at night. Isn’t that Steph and her friends? I bet they’re going to the party.

I take a closer look. Megan? It’s her. I pull the car alongside them without giving it another thought. Damn, this girl has invaded my every thought since that day in the hall at Lydia’s. She was so fucking adorable. The way she blushed. The way she wasn’t afraid to joke with me. And the way she looked, so natural. Just beautiful.

Then, I saw her at the end of the summer party a few weeks ago. She had been standing at a table all alone. For a minute, I felt guilty for wanting to talk to Megan—then again Lydia was downing shots of tequila like a spring breaker in Tijuana and flirting with every guy who came her way. So, I walked up to the freshman and started up a conversation, hoping she’d remember me.

Hey, Megan. What’s up?

Hey, Alex, she had said, instantly calming my nerves. And that was just as easy as that. Two words from sweet Megan were enough to calm my nerves. Amazing. I’d talked to girls before. Had been since junior high, so you’d think I’d be able to calm my shit as a senior talking to a freshman, but this girl had me strung out, fidgeting like a fucken meth addict. That is, until she said my name. She remembered me. Hearing my name roll off her tongue gave me a different kind of high.

I introduced her to the concept of a double threat. She was so shocked by the idea it cracked me up. What’s so surprising about being able to get away with shit if you’re an honors kid or taking AP classes and you’re in ASB? Students who are in student council can do anything they want. They can ditch class sitting in front of the principal’s office and no one will bat a frickin’ eye.

Why aren’t you in class?

Oh, we’re just finishing up a project for ASB.

Okay. Good luck.

It’s seriously that easy. It works even more if you have an AP Bio book in your hand while you mention ASB, the student government class. Meg’s a brainiac and she’s involved in school activities. See, a double threat.

Megan is clearly one of them.

So what are you then? she had asked, challenging me, for sure. Her eyes were wide and wild. I hoped that it was the effect I had on her and not the beer in her cup. At least she wasn’t doing shots.

I’m a football player so I’m even more of a threat than you are. Lightly, I bumped against her, teasing her with my words, our arms making contact. To say I didn’t feel something would be a flat-out lie. I felt it all right. She sucked in a soft gasp of air while my body felt prickly. I’d say I felt sparks, but I can hear Ben’s voice in my ear asking me if I wax my twat.

Our conversation was just getting good when Lydia had interrupted us and asked me to watch her chug a beer bong. Later, Megan, I said. I couldn’t help looking back at her. I must admit I felt like a fucking MVP when our gazes met. She was watching me walk away. Fuck yeah.

So forgive me if I see her walking on the side of the road now...in the dark for fuck’s sake...and I don’t just flip out a bit.

What’s up? Really? That’s what I open with. Megan probably thinks I’m an idiot who can only come up with two words.

Ben is much smoother. He asks the girls if they want a lift to the party. They all jump in the back seat, squeezing in tight for the rest of the ride.

Stealing glances in my rearview mirror, I peek at all the girls. Steph and Keesh are lost in their own conversation. Megan looks nervous. Her cheeks are pink again. And Amy, she looks like there’re a million other places she’d rather be.

At freshman orientation, I got the message that Amy thinks she’s the leader of the pack. When she is around, the rest of the girls seem to shrink in comparison. I don’t think they mean to, it’s just Amy commands—no, demands—attention. She ruined my concentration that day, that’s for sure. We had just finished morning practice and I saw Megan in the quad. My plan was to get a drink from the water fountain and run into her. She was alone at the time and I really wanted to talk to her again. Things went well at the party. And I knew Lydia and I were days from breaking up. But before I could talk to Megan, Amy showed up and the rest of the guys started chattering about her long legs and killer ass. I wanted her to go away. She didn’t.

Megan wasn’t alone anymore. I had lost my chance.

That isn’t going to happen again. Not tonight. Especially now that Lydia and I are officially done.

Once, Stephanie told me she and her friends love to dance, especially Megan. I can’t wait to see her move. If I get my way, I’ll be spending tonight’s party getting to know Megan. On and off the dance floor.

When we finally arrive, Ben takes off into the party like a bat out of hell. Megan is wrapped up with her girls, so I head in the direction of the rest of the team to talk about the game and how badly we sucked. I’m not a fan of audiences so I’ll wait until later to get her alone.

After going over several busted plays with the guys, I decide I’ve had enough. Let’s face it. Our team sucks ass. We lost half our players in May when the seniors graduated. Now, we’re starting all over again. We have a young team and very few returning players. I’d say to hell with this losing shit and walk, but I love football too much to quit. Besides, this is my last year playing. I know I’m not good enough to play in college. May as well enjoy it, even if we lose every game this season.

First, I grab a Coke from a cooler and then set out to find Megan. I’ve been watching her out of the corner of my eye for most of the night. She is one hell of a dancer. She definitely knows how to move.

The party is packed and I’ve lost Megan in the crowd of dancers. Amy and Steph are sitting down in a corner so I walk over to them, hoping Steph will help me find her. At the very least, I know Megan will come back to her friends eventually. Or maybe I’ll have to join her out there for a dance. If only I could find her. It doesn’t help that she’s five foot nothing. Just one more thing I find so damn cute about her. I bet the top of her dirty blonde head would fit right under my chin.

Hi, Alex, Amy says. My name draws slowly from her lips while she’s giving me a look that scares the shit out of me. Her gaze slides up and down my body like a true professional. To say this girl is sexy would be an understatement. She may be only fourteen, but she looks way older than most girls my age. And she’s intimidating as hell. No wonder the girls cower to her. She has me wanting to run away with my tail between my legs and she’s only said hi to me.

Hey, I say back, and then look toward Steph. She stands up, rolls her eyes, and walks away with a flip of her long, dark hair at me. What did I do? I’d hate to get on her bad side. Amy might scare me in a sexy slave kind of way, but Steph—well, she’d kick my ass if I pissed her off badly enough.

Trying to ignore the I’m going to pounce on you vibe I’m getting from Amy, I look out into the sea of bodies that are dancing. I catch a glimpse of Megan. Her head is tilted back and she’s laughing. Her smile is contagious. The corners of my mouth turn up unconsciously. Who knew this sweet little thing would have such an effect on me?

Meg looks like the life of the party out there, Amy says.

She caught me. Staring. At Megan. Yeah, I guess. What do I say to that? Yeah, she does? She’s having so much fun I want to go over there and see what’s making her laugh like that? I want to dance with her and maybe feel her body against mine with every beat of the music? I might be thinking it, but there is no way in hell I’m sharing that with Blondie.

Oh, look at her. Dancing with Ben. She thinks he’s cute.

Well, look at that. Ben is out there, the meat in the center of a Megan-Keesha sandwich. Whatever, Megan thinks I’m cuter. A smile curves across my face again.

Yeah, she was going on and on about how she’d like to hook up with him. She’s like that, you know. Not the kind of girl to date one guy.

Surprised, I turn my face to look at Amy so quickly I may have whiplash. Really? I didn’t get that feeling from her at all. Amy is totally pulling my leg. She takes a step toward me. When she speaks again, she’s so close I can feel her breath on my neck.

Totally. She had a long-term boyfriend in middle school. Now that we’re in high school, she wants to play the field.

My gaze turns toward Meg again. She’s drinking and dancing with Ben. She’s laughing again. Ben is getting closer to her and she doesn’t step away. Fuck. How did I read things so wrong? What the fuck? Really?

When I feel Amy’s hand on my arm, I tear my stare away from Meg and give Blondie my attention. I don’t really want to listen to her anymore. I’d rather get the hell out of here, but Ben looks like he is having the time of his life and I can’t leave without him. And there is no fucking way I’m going to go over there and break up the love fest that is going on. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You know, I’m all for dating one guy in high school. I’m not into messing around and playing games. I’d like to find a guy who’s older, too, someone who knows what he wants.

The feel of her fingers dragging up and down my arms says it all. She’d like me to be that older guy. That’s cool.

Hey, this party is getting boring. The music is louder now, and I can barely hear her. She says something else and this time I can’t make it out.

Huh? I mumble, close enough to her ear so she can hear me.

She leans in, and her lips graze my neck as she says, Are you ready to go? Do you mind taking us home? We’re all staying at Steph’s tonight.

God, anything to get Amy away from me right this moment. And anything to spare me the misery of watching my best friend make moves on the girl I’ve been digging for the last three weeks. Fuck. Why didn’t I mention it to him? He’d know better than to go near her. I fucking blew it.

Yeah, let’s go. How about you let them know and I’ll meet you guys at the car? I need some time to myself to think.

Great, I’ll be right back. But before she leaves, she hops up and pecks me on the cheek. What the hell is that all about? I wipe my face, wondering what the hell kind of a game she is playing. She doesn’t like games, my ass. She’s the fucken team captain. Thankfully, she was able to take my mind off Megan, if only for a minute.

Jesus. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. The girl is three or four years younger than me. She’s just a kid and I’m going all fucking apeshit over her. I’ve barely spoken to her, only a few minutes at a time, and I’m getting all worked up about Ben laying it on thick. Like Mom says, he’s a charmer all right. With my luck, he’ll make Megan change her mind about wanting a boyfriend and she’ll be all goo-goo gaga over him by the end of the night. If she isn’t already.

This is such bullshit. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. It’s really cool talking to Megan. She seemed like a no-nonsense kind of girl with a great sense of humor. And she’s fucking beautiful—naturally gorgeous—and she doesn’t even know it. That big smile makes me feel things. Big things. Fuck me. I sound like my grandpa. That’s exactly what he said about my grandma when they met. Seriously? Is Megan the one and I’ve already blown my chance? Is Megan the one and she doesn’t even want to fall in love? Damn it, I sure know how to pick them. Dude, get a grip. She’s only fourteen.

By the time I reach my car, I want to punch something. The sound of footsteps stomping behind me snaps me out of it.

Hey, dude. The girls will be here in a second. They’re pretty cool. I know we weren’t that much fun when we were freshmen. We were fucken dorks. Ben is all smiles and I want to slap the happiness right off his face. That little one, Meggie, is something else. She can dance and she has a mouth on her. He smiles even wider. I like it. He rubs his hands together and I’m sure smoke is coming out of my ears. When we drop them off, I’m gonna go for it. I’m going to kiss her. Nothing big, just a quick one. Just to let her know I’m interested.

You could ask her for her number. God, I don’t know what made me say that. Getting Megan’s number isn’t as bad as watching him kiss her, though. Fuck.

You’re such a pussy. I’m going to kiss her. You should do the same with the friend. That chick his been all up on your dick all night. You know she’s game.

With a shake of my head, I don’t respond with words. There is no way in hell I’m kissing Amy.

The entire way to Steph’s I can’t stop thinking about what Ben said. He’s going to kiss her. That’s pretty forward. They just met. And she is only a freshman. He should give her some time. Be patient. Get to know her first. Not try and get into her pants on the first night. What the fuck is his problem? Better yet, what the fuck is my problem? I need to get over it already. Yes, I wanted to get to know Megan better. Yes, I thought maybe I might like to take her out. But she’s not interested. Amy said she wants to play the fucking field and I’m not down with that. I don’t want to be one of the guys she messes around with her freshman year. I wanted to be the guy she called her high school sweetheart. Shit. Maybe I am a pussy. I reach down and adjust my junk just to remind myself I do in fact have a dick.

My stomach is in knots when I pull into Steph’s driveway. I throw the gear in park and both Ben and I undo our seat belts and step out of the car, flipping the handle on our seats so they move forward for the girls. Amy and Keesh get out on my side and Megan and Steph get out on Ben’s. Fuck. Why couldn’t it have been the other way around? I can’t help but look at Ben giving Megan his full on I’m going to get into your pants stare. She glances my way but looks back at Ben. There you have it. She does want to get with him. If only she’d kept her eyes on me. On me! Steph stands to the side and Ben takes a step closer to Meg, holding out his hand.

Fuck it.

I can’t watch.

I can’t watch Ben kiss Megan.

I close my eyes tight. Then, I hear my name. Alex. Opening them slowly, I see it’s Amy and all my sense goes out the window. She’s giving me that pouncing look again and I know what I’m about to do. She won’t care if I use her. She’s all about playing games. And right now I need to play the get Megan out of my fucking head game.

Reaching out, I take Amy’s hand and pull her against me as my lips crush against hers. It’s the worst kiss of my life, but at least I didn’t have to witness my best friend kissing my one.

Chapter 2

Honey, why are you seeing this girl? She’s called fifty times since you got home from school, my mom says, covering the speaker of my cell phone before handing it over to me.

The caller ID shows it’s Amy. Before I answer, I consider Mom’s question. I just shake my head because no matter how many times I’ve asked myself the same thing, I always come up empty.

Speak on it, I say, taking the call. My mom leaves the room, but not without a long sigh and an eye roll. I guess I can’t blame her. Sometimes I want to run head first into a wall because I can’t figure out what the hell I’m doing with her.

Going out with Amy has been exhausting. It really has. I can’t believe it’s been over a month since it happened. It all started with that damn kiss. An unnecessary one at that. Ben never kissed Megan. I don’t know why that brings me so much pleasure, yet it does.

The day after kissing Amy at the party, she had called me and asked me to take her to get coffee. Going into the Octogon with Chuck Liddell sounded like a better alternative, though I went anyway. Call me a glutton for punishment. I knew Blondie would talk, and talk, and talk some more. I was hoping she’d give up the details about Ben and Megan.

There weren’t any details to give up. Nothing had happened between them. Nothing at all.

Why the hell hadn’t I calmed the fuck down and not kissed Amy?

As soon as Amy and I sat down with our Starbucks, it was like a never-ending firecracker went off in Amy’s mouth. I listened to her for a good twenty minutes talking about the party and how she knew I liked her from the moment we met. I thought that was funny considering I couldn’t even remember when I had met her for the first time. Now, Megan—that was a different story. I knew those details like the back of my hand.

It was like someone punched me in the face when Amy rambled on and on and casually slipped in the fact that Megan liked me. It took me a second to grasp what she was saying. She had already moved on to talking about what we were going to do next weekend when I had to stop her and ask her what the hell she was talking about.

Wait, I had said, slamming my hand on the table. Go back to what you just said.

Which part? What we’re going to do on Friday or about school? she asked, flipping her hair off her shoulder.

No, the part about Meg. She likes me? There was no beating around the bush. I wanted to know. And she was going to tell me.

Oh, that. Yeah. She does. She waved off the thought like it was nothing important. Fuck yeah, it was important. It changed everything.

I thought you said she liked Ben. My teeth clenched together as the words spat from my mouth.

You...Ben...whatever. I thought it was Ben. It’s not like it matters. You like me. I like you. I told her as much. She gets it. She may have been mad for a minute, but she’s over it. She’s moved on.

Oh my fucking God. What was wrong with this girl? She’s fucking delusional. I like her. She likes me. Was she fucking crazy? It was like I was a character in a psycho thriller. I scanned the cafe hoping someone would save me from this girl before she tied me up and brutally killed me.

When I didn’t respond right away, Amy’s eyes softened and her lower lip started to quiver. You do like me, don’t you?

I glanced around, noticing people were staring at us. Blondie was about to cry and I didn’t do crying girls. I never could. Seeing a woman cry hit me hard in the chest, and I always wanted to fix it. The problem with Amy getting weepy on me was I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t trust her as far as I could throw her, but the look on her face made me think her insecurity was real.

Of course I do, I told her, knowing like hell I was going to regret playing along with her games, but, dammit, she was about to cry. I had to do something. Say something.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about what Amy had said. Megan liked me. Amy told Meg I didn’t like her. God, this whole thing was such a FUBAR. I totally screwed up everything. I should have had the balls to go to Meg at the party; even after Amy told me she wanted Ben. Instead, I pussied out and kissed Amy.

And, now, I supposedly liked Amy. Like hell I did.

That next morning, after the coffee shop disaster, I said fuck it and did what I had to do to get Megan’s phone number.

Hey, Lydia, how are you feeling? I had asked, turning on the charm. Not that I needed to with her. We were always honest with each other.

I’m still hung-over from Friday. Kick my ass if I ever get crazy like that again, she said, her voiced muffled and barely audible.

I laughed. The girl was nuts. I tried to stop you, more than once. You kept on telling me you were loosening yourself up so you could find a new man. How did that work for ya? I chuckled again.

Shut the fuck up. Don’t remind me. She groaned into the phone. I imagined her still curled up in bed with a pillow over her head.

Hey, I need a favor.

As long as it doesn’t require me to get out of bed or leave my room. My parents are on a rampage after Friday. What do you need, baby?

I need Megan’s phone number, but I don’t want anyone to know I asked you for it.

I knew it, she shouted into the phone. You fucken bastard. You like that little girl, don’t you? How cute! I love her.

Feeling better? I said, laughing again. It was just like Lydia to forget her head was pounding and get loud without thinking.

No. Not really. Her tone was softer again. But I knew it. I heard the girls talking about you yesterday morning. Did you hook up with Meggie? She didn’t pull any punches. It didn’t surprise me at all that we just broke up, yet we were still able to have this kind of conversation.

Uh. I paused, trying to figure out how to explain what I did. I didn’t get with Megan. No.

Oh shit, Alex. She groaned again. What did you do?

I kissed Amy. The words left an awful taste in my mouth. Just like the kiss.

Are you freaking kidding me?

I wish I was. And now, Amy thinks I like her and we’re together. It’s a fucken mess.

I went on to explain how it all went down.

You’re a complete idiot, she said when I was done.

I know. Again, I paused. So, will you get me Megan’s number?

Now, she didn’t say anything. Yeah, I guess. I swear, Alex Aguilar. I’ll kick your ass if you hurt our little Meggie. She likes you. A lot. I can tell. Be careful with her. Be her friend first. She’s just a kid, you know.

Don’t you think I know that? I shouted. I rarely raised my voice. I was just so fucken irritated.

Yes, I do, she said. And I also know that you’re a good guy. Maybe you’re not the best thing for Meggie right now. She’s such a sweetheart. She’s worth the wait, Alex.

I didn’t say anything. I just sat there, chewing on my bottom lip.

You’re making my head hurt more, baby. Talk to you later. She hung up the phone. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. Or get Megan’s number.

A few seconds later, my phone chirped notifying me of a text message.

555-1216. Be good to her or I’ll break your fucking legs.

A smile spread across my face.

Thank you.

Staring at my phone for a good portion of the day, I couldn’t bring myself to dial Meg. What the hell could I possibly say? I screwed up. Royally. Jealousy speared its ugly head and I made what would probably be the biggest mistake of my life.

It all seemed like a fucken soap opera.

That Friday, I kissed Amy. Saturday, she told me I liked her and, suddenly, we were in a relationship. Then, she told me Meg really did like me. I chewed on that for a while. Sunday morning, I called Lydia for Meg’s phone number. Finally, Sunday night I grew a pair and used it.

Fuck, it was getting out of hand.

Hello? It had come out as a question. My number on her caller ID would be foreign to her.

Hey, I said, yet again.

Hey?

It’s Alex. Is this Megan? I asked, even though I knew it was her. I’d know that soft, sweet tone anywhere.

Hi, Alex. I could still hear this unease in her tone and I wanted to kick myself for putting it there. This wasn’t the same girl I had spoken to so easily before.

I hope you don’t mind that I called you. I got your number from a friend.

She responded quickly, almost cutting me off. Why?

Saying hello to her. Hearing her voice. Those were the easy parts. Answering questions? Shit, that was going to be difficult. Why did I call? Why did I get her number? Damn, I wasn’t prepared. I should have waited until I knew which way was up.

I just felt like talking to you. God, I was so lame.

Wouldn’t you rather talk to Amy?

Hell no, I didn’t want to talk to Amy. She’d probably guilt me into something else with her alligator tears. Once I got over the anger, I thought about what Meg asked again and it made me chuckle.

What are you laughing at? she asked, sounding irritated.

I’m sorry, Megan. I was thinking about how you’re not afraid to say whatever is on your mind. I like it. And I deserved that.

Deserved what? she asked, nonchalantly. You were kissing my friend the other night and now you’re calling me. What the hell for?

This is why I liked Megan. She wasn’t afraid to call me on my bullshit. And I wasn’t afraid to answer her. Well, maybe this time I was. Shit.

Friday was crazy. Let’s just say there was a lot of miscommunication going on. Fuck, there still was. I think there might still be. I wanted to clear the air. I want things to be okay with us.

Why do you care? We barely know each other.

God, she wasn’t making this easy.

Don’t you care? Do you really feel like that? Like we barely know each other? I had no right to ask, but I couldn’t help myself.

Yeah, I care. And even though we’ve only talked to each other a handful of times, I feel like I know you better than most of the people I’ve known my whole life.

Ditto.

A silence lingered between us and I felt like a total wimp for hoping she’d speak up first.

I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore. That’s not what I was hoping she’d say.

Why?

She sighed into the phone at first, and then let out a loud groan. Damn, she was cute. Because, you idiot. You like Amy. And Amy likes you.

And you like me. It slipped out before I could take it back.

Who told you that? she shouted into the phone.

Shrinking in my seat, I felt like such a dick.

It was my turn to groan. Amy did.

Ugh. She’s such a bitch. I could choke her.

Someone should, I thought. Maybe we could do it together. I’m sorry, I told her. That wasn’t supposed to come out like that.

It’s okay, she said, softly. I feel like such a dumbass.

Don’t, Megan. Don’t feel like that. I’m sorry if I hurt you. That’s the last thing I wanted. You have to believe me.

I do, believe you.

Silence.

Hey, I gotta go, she said.

I didn’t want to let her go. I didn’t want her to hang up. I wanted to hold on as long as possible.

Alex.

I loved hearing her call out my name.

Yes? I answered her.

Don’t worry. We’re good. Everything is okay between us.

Before I could say anything, she hung up the phone. Damn her for making me want her even more.

Alex! For a minute, I’m confused. I hear someone yelling my name. It’s not the same sweet voice I was daydreaming about moments before. Alex! You there?

Shit. Yes, I’m here. Nothing like Amy’s voice to knock me back into reality.

When are you coming over? You should have been here a long time ago, Amy says, practically whining into the phone.

I felt gross after practice, so I thought I’d come home and shower first.

Okay. Come now. I miss you. I’ve had an awful day with my mom and I need you to hug me.

She sounds like she’s been crying. Which isn’t entirely unusual. She seems to get into a fight with her mom every day. For the most part, I’d say that was normal for any teenage girl, but I’ve witnessed some of their fights. Amy’s mom is on the verge of being verbally abusive. Shit, if I’m being honest, I think she’s crossed that line. I feel sorry for Amy. I really do. I wish I could do something to make it stop. All I know is the more I’m around, the more Amy’s mom tones it down.

I’m on my way, I tell her. Like every time I drive to Amy’s, I think of the ways I can break it to her that we shouldn’t be together anymore. Something as simple as I just don’t like you. Or something as vague as it’s not you, it’s me. I wonder if today will be the day I actually follow through with my plan.

When I get to Amy’s, I don’t bother knocking. Her mom says I’m family and takes offense to me waiting to be invited in. Voices can be heard coming from the kitchen, so I head in that direction. Her house is huge with a long hallway leading from the enormous foyer to what they call the great room and kitchen.

Look at you. You’re a mess. I can’t believe Alex stays with you. If I were you, I’d hurry up and change your outfit. Those two pieces don’t match. And let’s not talk about your hair. It’s flat and dull. Go put a brush through it.

The words make me wince in pain for Amy. What is wrong with her mom? The only thing my mom has ever asked of me is to put on a clean shirt, not one from the hamper. This lady is a fucking bitch.

Mom, I look fine. Not that Alex cares what I look like. He’s not like that. For once, Amy is right about something.

You’re right. I doubt he cares about you. He’s a senior. You’re probably spreading your legs to keep him.

Whoa. That’s it.

Hey, ladies, I say as I walk into the kitchen and step close to Amy. You look beautiful as always. I drape my arm around Amy’s shoulder and place a quick peck on the side of her head. Oh, and just so you know, I look her mom straight in the eye, Amy wouldn’t have sex with me if I tried. She’s waiting to be in love first and I admire that about her. Taking Amy by the hand, I lead her away from her mom’s death stare and into the game room.

It looks like my relationship with Amy will live to see another day.

Fuck.

Amy is curled up into my side while we watch her favorite reality TV programs. I try to tune out the talentless Kardashians on principle alone. I refuse to give them my time or energy. All they do is scream at each other. If that’s all it takes to make millions, then Amy’s family is in the wrong business. They too could have their own show. Her mom would be a fucking star.

* * *

Speak on it.

Alex, where do you get off telling Ben to stay away from me? Who do you think you are? My mom?

For a minute I thought I saw the wrong name on my caller ID. I check again. Yup, I was right. Megan is smiling back at me. I love that picture. I took it when she wasn’t looking. She was chatting away with Keesh and Steph, cracking up hard like she always does. Unlike now.

Hi, Megan. Wanna slow down and tell me what this is all about?

She lets out a long huff of air into the phone and starts again. This time much slower than before. She goes on to tell me Ben told her something about me that bothered her. Great. What is that dumbass saying now?

He told me you said you’d kick his ass if he hooked up with me.

A grin spreads across my face. That fucker actually told her. I shake my head, not surprised.

Well, I would. There’s no doubt in my mind. Hell, I wanted to strangle his ass at the thought of him kissing her. If he actually did, I think I’d kill the guy. I know it’s not fair considering the circumstances, but hell, maybe I’m not as nice as everyone thinks. Where Meg’s concerned, anyway. I won’t be having anyone mess with her.

I don’t get why you’d say something like that, or even think you had the right to.

Damn it all to hell. The deeper I get into this with Amy and the deeper Ben gets into it with Meg, the harder this gets to stay honest with Megan. What I want to tell her is I want her so bad that if she hooked up with anyone, I’d want to throw punches. But, I can’t. I can’t tell her how I feel. Amy’s mom is horrific and Amy’s five seconds away from running away or jumping off a cliff. I can’t break up with her in the middle of it so I can go off and have my happily ever after with Megan. That wouldn’t be right. But fuck me if it isn’t coming at the expense of my own sanity.

Instead of telling Megan the complete truth, I give her some bullshit that it would be cool if she and Ben were together if they were a couple. Not just a quick hookup. Either way would drive me crazy. I don’t know what the hell to say.

When I’m done, she’s silent. I can hear her breathing softly, though she doesn’t say a word.

You there? I ask.

Yeah, I’m here.

I don’t want you to be pissed at me. I honestly never thought Ben would tell you what I said.

Well, he did.

I guess I’m going to have to beat his ass now anyway, huh. I’m trying to make light of the situation, but she’s quiet. I hate that she’s not the same cheerful Meg I adore.

It’s just that you’re different than other girls. You’re not fake. You’re funny without trying to be. You cuss like a dude but still sound girlie. You’re easy to talk to. I can talk to you without all the bullshit, you know?

Well, if I’m so freaking great then why did you choose Amy?

Holy fuck. Talk about a stab to my chest. Just shove the knife right in there and twist.

Lydia’s words pop into my head. Be good to her. She’s young. She’s worth the wait. I’ll break your fucking legs. The thought makes me chuckle inside. She’s right. I need to consider Meg’s feelings before my own.

I’ve already fucked this up so many times.

Just a few weeks ago, I gave Megan a ride home and I thought I was going to lose it. She had been walking home from soccer practice and I was on my way home from football, so I decided to give her a ride home. I sent her a text asking her if she wanted a ride. The look on her face when I pulled up beside her was priceless. It was a combination of surprise and excitement. It made me feel good to know she was still happy to see me even after all that had happened. It also pissed me off knowing I couldn’t put that smile on her face on a regular basis. Idiot.

At school, our time together is limited. It’s not like I could pull her into a broom closet to talk to her like they did in the movies. Amy is always by my side and Meg is always with her friends. I wanted a chance to spend time with her, without everyone else weighing in. When I saw her on the street, it was the opportunity I had been waiting for.

Soccer had been doing a number on her. She looked beat and she was walking like she’d done a thousand lunges. It made me want to laugh. Not at her pain, but how cute she looked in that pain. Her thick sandy-blonde hair was piled high on her head. She was wearing black sliders under her loose soccer shorts. The tight compression shorts accentuated her curvy legs. The girl was by no means a toothpick most high school girls wanted to be. She had some meat on her bones and it suited her curves just fine. She was gorgeous the way she was, with a few extra pounds and all.

You should drink lots of water so your muscles won’t be so sore, I had told her when she complained about her legs not having the strength to make it home.

I don’t have any muscles, she said, making me laugh. She gave me this look like duh, I’m dying here. It was adorable.

Everyone has muscles, I told her.

Whatever. I doubt water is going to save me, she said, massaging her thighs. I wanted to tell her to stop drawing more attention to her eye-catching legs or it was going to get really uncomfortable when she noticed my hard-on through my shorts.

Just do it. For me, please. You’ll thank me, I promise, I said, trying to change the subject and not look at her soft legs.

Okay. Thanks, Coach. She flung her hand over to me, whacking me jokingly in the arm. But fortunately, or unfortunately—who knows—Meg’s hand touched mine in the process. I sucked in a breath, and she did too. It was like someone hit pause for a moment as the car filled with silence. Our touch was electrifying. Like that cool feeling you get when you touch your tongue to a nine-volt battery even though you know you’re not supposed to. Touching Meg, that’s what it was like. And I didn’t care. I wanted to do it. Again and again.

Meg was the first to break the silence. She’s so brave. I was sitting there like a tongue-tied fool trying to maintain my sanity while she woman-ed up and moved on. She made small talk about school and sports. We chatted comfortably until we pulled up in front of her house. That is until I blew it