Resting my hand atop his, I looked for a reaction, any reaction, but he remained still, just as he’d promised. I glided my hand up the contours of his arm, feeling the dips and curves of every muscle, along the back of his forearm.
He laughed silently. “That tickles, Sal.”
“Shhh,” I said, “no talking.”
Becks nodded then went back to motionless.
I hesitated only a moment before placing both hands on his shoulders. Moving my fingers to the back of his neck, I felt the muscles there tense. I used my thumbs to ease the tension, and then moved even closer. By this point, I was practically in his lap, but I’d wanted to do this for so long. Now that I’d finally gotten the chance, I wouldn’t screw it up.
Bringing my right hand back around, I ghosted my fingertips along his jaw and up to his cheek, feeling the stubble rasp against my fingertips. “Oh,” I breathed, “it’s not so bad.”
“Hmmm?”
“I thought it’d feel odd,” I answered truthfully. “You know, I prefer you without facial hair.”
Becks’s voice was low, lower than it’d been a moment ago. His breathing had picked up too, I noticed. “Ah, you know you love it. Everyone does, Sal.”
Feeling bold, I spoke softly right into his ear. “Not me.”
His arms were around my waist in a blink, but I didn’t move.
“I’ve always hated it.”
“But why?” he asked, eyes still closed. “It’s the reason I win so much.”
I shook my head. “No, Becks.” The frown on his face looked so adorable. I had the incredible urge to touch it, so I did. His eyes flipped open at the contact. “You’re the reason you win so much.”
Out of the blue, the door opened, and I heard Mrs. Kent’s voice say, “Hey, honey, is Sally here? I thought I saw her car out front.”
Without a thought, I reached up and plucked out one—or four—of Becks’s eyelashes, causing him to curse.
I got to my feet smiling. “Eyelash,” I said, holding it up for Mrs. Kent’s inspection, praying she wouldn’t see through the impromptu ruse. She was like a second mother, but if she knew I was up here working on “touch exercises” with her youngest, I didn’t think she’d take it too well.
“It’s so good to see you, Sally,” she said, pulling me into a hug. There was nothing accusatory in her tone. Naturally, she didn’t suspect a thing. Becks and I were just friends after all, always had been, always would be. “What’re you two doing up here?”
Clayton popped his head in then. “Yes, Sally. What are you and Becks doing up here, all alone, completely unsupervised?”
“Calculus,” Becks said, producing his book before I could say a word. “Sal was just helping me with some of the harder questions, isn’t that right?” He looked to me.
I nodded a bit too vigorously. “Yep.”
“Well, don’t work too hard,” Mrs. Kent said, shoving a grinning Clayton out the door. “And you,” she said to him, “stop trying to cause trouble. They’re just friends; you know that.”
The door shut on that note, and Becks and I were left alone once again.
“So,” he said, smiling, “I think lesson one was successful. What do you say we do some Calc homework?”
I smiled back, acting as if nothing had happened. It seemed so easy for Becks; why couldn’t I do it, too? “I didn’t bring my book.”
“Oh, you can use mine,” he said with a grin. “I won’t be needing it.”
As he handed me the thick text, I remembered the two demands he’d made when he’d agreed to be my F.B.F: Goobers and a month of Calc. “You were serious?”
“You know it.”
The hour it took me to complete our homework was one of the longest of my life. Having Becks there, watching over my shoulder, pointing out mistakes every now and then, wasn’t all that fun. Still, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.
At the door Becks stopped me and said, “So, what’s the plan for Monday?”
“I guess we just act like boyfriend and girlfriend,” I shrugged. “After today, it shouldn’t be that hard, right?”
He nodded. “Okay, Sal, that might work for your guy and all. But you know Hooker’s not going to be impressed by a little handholding. Just be prepared.”
I agreed like it was a given. Hooker was a tough cookie, but lesson one had filled me with such a heady confidence; I was able to convince myself it’d be easy. I’d finally worked up the nerve to run my hand along Becks’s lucky scruff, to whisper in his ear. Convince Hooker? Piece of cake compared to that. I’d never thought I would have the guts. Today, I was Superwoman, invincible. No one, not even Hooker, could touch me.