“Nope. Try me.” He fished in his pocket. “What do you want out of the machine?”
“Oh, you don’t have to pay for it…” she started, following him as he stepped up to feed a dollar into the Coke machine.
“You’re damn right I don’t have to,” he said, with more of the grin. “If anything, the girls want to pay me after…Shit, this is a dollar-fifty?”
“Special student price jack. Like I said – I can pay.” Shooting him a sideways glance: “Don’t want you to blow your load on junk food.”
“Ooh,” he said with a sharp laugh. “Shedoesknow how to talk dirty.” He added another dollar. “Whatcha want?”
“I know lots of words, not just the proper kinds. Coke, please.”
“Diet?”
“Regular. That artificial stuff’ll give you cancer.”
“So will smokes.”
“You could always quit, you know.”
“I’d have the shakes.”
It was easy between them, suddenly. The knowledge settled over her, wrapped around her like a warm hug. They could laugh and joke and talk, and all of it felt natural…save the rapid beating of her schoolgirl heart. She didn’t suppose she could change any of that.
He bought her requested Coke and M&Ms, handing them over with several ribs about her diet choices. Then he said not to worry, she looked “hot as hell,” and she blushed furiously on their walk back to the classroom.
“How’s Tonya?” she asked as they neared the door, and she felt the mood crack down the middle, like brittle glass hitting pavement. She immediately wanted to take the words back, seeing his face darken…but Tonya was there. She couldn’t ignore her. That would be romantically unhealthy of her.
“Tonya’s out of the picture,” he said firmly, and her heart lurched.
“She is?”
“Definitely.”
His expression was set at harsh, resolute angles as he turned to her. “Don’t worry about Tonya, ‘cause I’m sure as hell not going to.”
“I wasn’t worried,” she protested.
A smile flickered across his lips. “Yeah you were.”
“Oh really?” She had her back to the wall, and too late she realized their positions, him leaning over her, pinning her back with a look, with his presence.
He braced a hand on the wall beside her head and her pulse jacked up another notch. He leaned in, and she felt a little faint.
“You were worried.” His breath smelled like cigarettes, like spearmint gum. “I think you were maybe a little bit jealous.”
She kicked up her chin, hoping she sounded sincere. “Not even a little.”
He chuckled.
And then his face softened, smile becoming wistful. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“You did make me feel better.” And then he stopped her heart when he said, “I’m sorry, Sam, for not noticing you in high school. I was a fucking idiot.”
Before she could react, he leaned in and pressed a fast kiss to the corner of her mouth, a soft touch of velvet lips. And then he was pulling back, stepping away, turning to leave with one last smile.
Sam watched him go, shaking, hand lifting to the hot brand he’d left behind on her skin. She imagined he’d left a stamp, a sizzling imprint of his lips.
