Lover of the Light Page 5

  I freeze.

  Oh hell.

  I regret my decision for all of three seconds, until Brightside throws her arms around my neck, pushes her chest against mine, and presses into me.

  I allow myself to enjoy this moment; the odd taste of the spiced toothpaste, the softness of her lips fitting perfectly with mine, and the naturally vanilla-sweet flavor of Audrey's lips combined.

  Nothing about this is awkward. Audrey doesn't even have to laugh to make it feel right, she just kisses me back. She hums against my lips, tangling her fingers in my hair, and I know for sure she means it. The better-than-good-thing that I've been patiently waiting for has herself wrapped around me, and I don't have any doubts. I find it hard to believe that I ever did.

  I unfreeze, and I kiss her back.

  It's sloppy.

  Kind of wet.

  Pretty wet.

  She makes this throaty moan and I wrap my left arm around her back. We bump each other's teeth. Brightside laughs into my mouth. I do too.

  "Mhm." Someone clears their throat behind us, and I freeze back up again.

  Audrey laughs against my lips, and I hear her mom, too. She pulls away, and I look to the door. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but maybe people who are sick shouldn't be swapping spit, young lady. Go to school. Now."

  I've never seen a blush so red before. "Yes, Mom."

  I don't know if there's ever a right time to kiss a girl you can't stop thinking about. Even though Audrey's kind of sick, and we're skipping school, and we were just busted by her mom; it's kind of worth it.

  It's worth being patient.

  It's worth panicking over and feeling humiliated over.

  It's worth every awkward moment or phrase.

  She's worth it.

  Chapter 12

  May 4th, 2012

  10:20 p.m.

  It's Friday night, and I'm not even drunk. I pretty much forgot all about Casper Gray's party tonight when Audrey walked up to my locker this morning, kissed me, and slipped one of her cherry Starbursts into my back pocket for me to find later.

  I don't know how I spent my weekends before, but I can't imagine them not being like this. I can't picture a world where this doesn't exist for me. I don't know much about bliss, but I imagine that it's something like this:

  Brightside and I, alone. In my house. In my room. On my bed. Sober.

  This is still crazy to me, because two months ago, if you told me I'd have a girl that I was crazy about in my bed, kissing her into a frenzy, I would have laughed in your face. But a month ago, girls were nothing but pretty voices, and I didn't see much in life outside of the dull contours of my mind.

  I lived in a shitty town, filled with shitty music and, if we’re being honest, shitty people who I had no intent on ever interacting with.

  And then this girl with a magnetic smile asked if she could sit with me, and I shared my headphones with her. I made her laugh, and then I slept with her hours later. Days later, my car broke down, and she drove me around for a month, became my best friend. Yesterday she kissed me, and now here we are … again.

  Brightside has one hand wrapped tightly in my hair, and the other slipped beneath my shirt. I can feel the soft pinch of her trimmed fingernails gliding against my back while I try to focus on kissing this girl crazy.

  We've been here before, but this is new.

  This is so new, and I couldn't place my finger on the feelings coursing through me if I tried.

  This is different. It's better-different.

  This time, I know her name; her full name. I know what her favorite foods are, and what makes her cry. I know enough about this girl for this to be okay.

  This is right. It's better than okay.

  We're two kids who're spinning out of control, and it doesn't even feel all that dizzying.

  We're clawing at each other's clothes and pawing each other's flesh. We're taking rapid breaths between kisses and I keep forgetting why it's better to be patient. Brightside's vanilla and cinnamon lips are all over me, and they're making me forget about everything else that matters.

  Maybe I am drunk. Sort of. I've lost myself somewhere between alabaster thighs and delectable lips.

  That, and Brightside won't stop saying absurd things.

  Like: "I want to watch you wash your hair."

  And: "You smell like sunshine, boy. Can I use your body soap sometime?"

  And: "Can I lick your Adam's apple? It looks good. Just a taste."

  The last one almost makes me fall on top of her; I'm laughing so hard that I can't hold myself up. She makes me chuckle until my muscles are weak while she runs her fingers through my hair and shakes with her own laugh. "I'm serious, Blake. It's majestic. Girls go crazy over this neck."

  Sometimes I think she says this shit just for the sake of hearing my laugh.

  She threads her fingers through my hair and I lower my face back down to hers. I kiss her slower this time, but she doesn't want that. She tosses her legs over my hips and kisses me back just as hard. I groan, and she giggles.

  We're pushing hips and licking lips.

  We're bumping noses and smashing teeth because we're impatient, insatiable teenagers.

  Brightside tells me to feel her up.

  It's kind of the best thing I've ever done.

  My hands slide further up her shirt and ghost beneath her bra. Her boobs feel amazing; fit perfectly in my hands. I'm thinking of a thousand things that I could do with her boobs that she probably wouldn't find sexy at all.

  "Blake." My name is in the form of a moan, a soft sigh leaving her kissed-swollen lips. "More, please."

  Over the soft sound of music playing in the background, I register the muffled sound of a car door slamming closed. I immediately remove my hands, bolt up, and shuffle away from Audrey.

  "What is it?" she asks, oblivious to my internal crises as she sits up to adjust her bra and T-shirt.

  I open my mouth to tell her, but it's too late. The front door opens, and I hear the clanking sound of a heavy set of keys landing on the coffee table.

  I've never had a girl here before. I mean, not that my mom knows about, anyway. She doesn't know about Audrey, and I don't know how she'll react to her being here because I rarely have people over, period. The only guest we ever have is Hailee, who comes and goes as she pleases and my mother has little respect for.

  I don't want my mom to think of Audrey as some girl I’m being sneaky with in my bedroom; I want her to think of Audrey as Brightside.

  "It's my mom," I tell her, trying to keep my tone leveled and casual.

  Audrey looks horrified.

  Chase and Hailee are at Casper's, and my mom is supposed to be gone for the night, at work.

  "Don't freak out." I grab my backpack from the floor and toss it on the bed. "We weren't doing anything wrong. She won't be mad that you're here, just act casual."

  Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Audrey picks a book from my bag and flips to a random page. I sit back down with her and pull out another prop; a notebook that's been sitting in my bag all year without a single note in it. Audrey frowns.

  "What's wrong?" I ask.

  "What if she doesn't like me?" she whispers, looking between the door and me.

  I want to tell her that she has nothing to worry about; that my mom will love her.

  But I don't know if she's sober, or if she'll like Audrey, or if she'll even pretend like she does if she doesn't. I have no clue how any of this will pan out because the woman who put me on this earth is unpredictable.

  She doesn't even knock before she opens the door; it just swings open before I can think about reassuring Audrey. "It's sixty degrees outside, why do we have the air-condit―" She stops short upon seeing Audrey on my bed.

  I think maybe Mom doesn't buy our charade the moment she sees me shifting uncomfortably with a clearly unused book in my lap.

  "Mom, this is Audrey." I clear my throat because apparently there's a bug lodged in it. "Audrey, thi
s is my mom, Melanie."

  Mom switches her eyes back and forth from the girl sitting on my bed to me a few times before she settles her gaze back on Audrey. Her expression is hardly readable; not unpleasant but clearly surprised.

  She pushes herself away from the doorframe and walks toward Audrey with steady, purposeful steps that tell me she's sober.

  "You can call me Mel." Mom smiles, and I exhale a breath I’ve been holding unknowingly.

  Audrey's smile is genuine as she hops up from the bed we were just making out on and shakes her hand with the same one that was all over me moments earlier.

  I mentally palm my face.

  "It's nice to meet you, Mel. That’s funny, my mom goes by Mel sometimes too. I mean, not by me. But she’s a Melissa," Audrey says, patting my mom's shoulder like they're old amigos. "You have an awesome home, by the way. I like all your cuckoo clocks. And your lipstick is pretty. I like your son too, did you make him yourself?"

  Audrey is nervous-ranting, but it doesn't matter. I don't think I've ever seen my mom smile so wide before.

  "Thank you, Audrey. The lipstick is from Walmart, and the cuckoo clocks were my husband's." My mom looks to me, and her smile doesn't falter. "Studying on a Friday night?" she asks me with an amused eyebrow raised. "Keep this door open. Understand?"

  I nod.

  Mom backs out of the room with a smile glued to her face, and Audrey sighs out a breath of relief when she's sure she's gone. "Do you think she likes me?"

  I look at her like she's crazy.

  "Are you kidding me?"

  She bites her lip and nods. "I don't like it when people don't like me. And if your mom doesn't like me―"

  "Audrey, shut up. I haven't seen my mom smile like that in forever. She likes you."

  She doesn't argue with me anymore after that, but she does look a little smug.

  I can't help but smile, either.

  Because my mom knows Audrey, and I'm pretty sure that she fell in love with her at first sight. Everybody has fallen head over heels in love with this girl, and yet, she still chooses to spend her weekends with me. Me.

  It's like she’s come into my life strictly to reconstruct my world. She’s knocked down my walls, and she forced me to see why it's important to let the light in.

  And maybe I'm not the same.

  Maybe I'm different now.

  Maybe this is living.

  Maybe it's finally understanding all that you've got to lose, and it's never taking a single moment for granted, like Audrey does. I haven't lived a single moment in boredom since I met her, at least until I thought I lost her.

  And it's all because of that smile.

  Chapter 13

  May 11th, 2012

  7:45 p.m.

  Muggy spring air permeates the sweet scent of dewy grass, barbecue, funnel cakes, and beer. The only two stadium lights our school can afford illuminate the team’s field, but the sun is only beginning to set. An orange-yellow hue spreads across the horizon, and I watch the game with eyes shielded beneath a pair of dark blue sunglasses.

  Chase complains about his cleats getting stuck in the mud, but Coach Jones doesn't care. He wants to finish this game, and he's done with my brother's shit because he plays baseball how five-year-olds play Candyland.

  He says, "This isn't fair."

  And, "This is some bullshit right here."

  And, "What? No, that wasn't an out; that's cheating."

  My brother can be dumb, but he can play ball better than anyone else in this town. That is the only reason he hasn't gotten kicked off the team because I'm pretty sure he's already broken all the rules.

  Digging my hand into the pocket of my hoodie to retrieve my new cellphone, I roll my eyes at Chase as I enter the unlock code to check my messages.

  Hailee claims my new phone is, “Audrified.” I'd argue, but this thing has my girl's name written all over it. The memory card is already filled with songs, the phonebook stocked with the contact information of almost every food joint within twenty miles of this town, and there's a picture of Brightside's earbuds on my bed, spread out to make a heart shape, as my home screen.

  I told her I didn't want a heart on my phone, but she said I'll get over it because I love her, and I couldn't argue.

  "Where's Sunshine?" Chase shouts over the chattering crowd sitting on the bleachers behind us. "She buying rain-resistant boots for the prom or something?"

  "She'll be here later," I tell him, shooting Casper Gray a glare when I catch him looking back at me. It's the kind of look that tells him: mind your own business. He turns back to Coach Jones, pretending like he wasn't being nosy and trying to find out my girlfriend's location.

  I avert my gaze back to Chase. "She should call soon."

  Turning his back to me, he nods and starts scraping the caked mud from his cleats using a twig he found in the grass. "Cool."

  Around noon, Audrey's mom dragged her out of town for a doctor's appointment. She couldn't tell me what it's about because she doesn't know herself. Apparently, Melissa is overreacting about Audrey getting sick a few times last week, but Audrey thinks it's the food here. She's been eating Whole Foods Market food since she was six, but we don't have organic food stores like they do in Chicago.

  I'm with her mom on this; she needs to figure out what's wrong. I doubt it's the food because Brightside eats candy like it's her dependency. Unless she's got diabetes, which... there's a possibility.

  Oh God.

  She drives me crazy with worry.

  It's hard to give no fucks these days when all I can give are worst-case scenarios.

  "She's okay." Hailee is seated beside me with a half-eaten bag of popcorn in her hand.

  My brother's girlfriend smells like weed and orchids, but the smell is too strong and pungent, as if she doused herself in perfume. Bringing her legs up to fold them crisscross in front of her, Hailee hides her half-lidded eyes beneath a pair of my brother's aviators and smiles up at me. She brings one hand up to pinch my cheek and smashes the bag of popcorn to her chest.

  "Don’t worry so much, Blakey." She giggles, definitely high. "You're so cute when you care, lovebug.”

  I roll my eyes, ducking away from her hand before it can reach me. "Leave me alone."

  Hailee frowns, scooting unnaturally close to me. "You can't do this to me forever, Blake. I'm going to college soon, and you'll never see me again. I know you're going to miss me, so you'd better just tell me now that you love me. I know you love me. You're going to miss me, so stop pretending that you don't care."

  I furrow my brows at her, leaning away from her as far as I can. I open my mouth, narrowing my eyes at her teasingly. "A college actually let you in?”

  She pinches my forearm. "Ass."

  I laugh anyway, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and placing a kiss in her hair. "I do, you’re all right. But you'd better come back to visit me."

  She smirks, sliding over the bench so she's back to her original spot. "Maybe."

  Hailee and Chase have applied everywhere, they're determined to go to college together. Miraculously, they were both granted partial scholarships to the University of Arizona. While they weren't too impressed with Chase's grades, they must've been pleased by his baseball stats. As for Hailee, I'm pretty sure that she added herself as the founder of her fake photography club on her application and included a couple not-so-fake pictures of her hidden talent. She's going to the School of Art for a Bachelors in Studio Art program or something like that.

  Although Hailee is right, I'm a little sad, I'm kind of happy for them.

  They deserve to get out.

  My phone hums in my hands, and I look down to find it lighting up with my girl's number.

  "See." Hailee laughs. "She's alive."

  I roll my eyes and tap my finger over the answer box before bringing the phone to my ear.

  "Hey," I say, sighing out in relief.

  "Hi." Her pretty voice is unusually quiet. "I can see you."

  I stiffe
n my shoulders, scanning my eyes around the field. "You do?"

  "I'm behind the benches, over by the concession stand."

  I scan my eyes over the crowded bleachers and furrow my brows. Well over half of this town is here, and it's making finding her difficult. I spot some red-brown curls, and I sigh out in relief when I spot her.

  Across the field, Audrey stands by the entrance of the park with her fingers hooked through holes in the chain-link fence. Dressed in a pair of dark jean shorts and a jacket of mine that I didn't know I was missing until now, she has the hood pulled over her head and her hair tucked over her shoulder.

  "Are you okay?" I ask.

  Shifting, she drops her head to stare down at her feet. She drags one purple flip-flop through the grass, drawing a semicircle around her other foot. Her lips are turned down into a dismal frown and her eyes emit an unusual somberness.

  "I've been better."

  I can feel an inexplicable dull ache in my throat, like I've just been given the worst kind of news. I clear my throat against the stinging sensation and hunch forward to try and see her better. "Why?"

  I hear the softest sound of a cry escaping her lips, one she tries to muffle with her hand. It's short-lived and suppressed, but it's unavoidable.

  I can feel my heart bottoming out in my stomach.

  "What's wrong? Don't cry, Brightside." It's my feeble attempt at trying to find out what's wrong with her.

  "Don't call me that." She hiccups, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. "Do I really look bright to you right now, Blake?"

  I swallow down the lump in my throat and nod. I hold her gaze and a small smile plays at her lips, and I revel in it. It's better. "You look beautiful to me."

  Audrey lifts a hand to her eyes, and I watch as she wipes the tears from her smiling cheeks. "Don't make me smile right now. I don't deserve it."

  I can't take this anymore.

  "What's wrong, Audrey?"

  She blows out a soft-sounding sigh, lifting her head up long enough to meet my eyes again. Casper Gray passes, momentarily blocking her from my view, and my eyes settle on warm brown again.