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Being Kalli(12)

By:Rebecca Berto


“It just gets even awkwarder. Kall,” he says, “what about those kids?”

I don’t bother turning. Those kids have to be yelled at three times to come inside. They aren’t noticing anything. I tell him as much then add, “It could get awkward if I kiss you again.”

This close, his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as if it’s too huge for his throat, and his breath seems to stagger. He dares a glance at me. Those pale eyes are captivating. Those eyes are framed by dark lashes, which make them irresistible. He raises his hands resembling boom gates holding me back and mumbles breathlessly, “No vibrato action, please.”

His code for no funny business. Lucky for him I plan to mostly be all tease; he makes it so easy to do.

“Click, click,” I reply.

“Definitely click, click.”

That’s code in our language to be still, stop. When he’s out taking photos, whether for pleasure or an assignment, his body is mostly still apart from his eyes moving through the viewfinder, his fingers clicking the shutter button. If the vibrato joke is a play on my wild side, click, click is Nate’s way of drawing a stop.

“Wasn’t gonna kiss you anyway.”

“Good,” he says, his hands around my hips, trying to lift me off him. “My mouth and member can’t handle your wild side anymore for the moment.”

“Nuh-uh.”

I grip on to his T-shirt but accidentally hook my thumbs in the loops of his pants, further securing me to him as I rock down again. His body betrays his will to stop this as his fingers melt to my skin and caress the sides of my thighs tight around his.

“I told you,” I repeat, “I won’t kiss you.”

But I’ll make you wish I would.

Jutting out my bottom lip, I graze it so close to his cheek a breeze couldn’t pass through. I feel the moment our skin almost touches and it drives me wild with need. I start again on his cheek but skim my lips along it carefully, down to his smile crease, and under the dip of his lower lip.

Unconsciously I can feel him pressing himself tighter to me. He pulls back a little, saying, “What if we’re caught?”

I reply, “What if we’re not?”

Daring more, I bring my lip back and graze it over his bottom lip. He doesn’t protest.

“That wasn’t a kiss,” I tell him, creating space between us with my palms to his hard chest. “When you get a real kiss from me, I won’t be barely touching you. I’ll be all your body can remember.”

“Oh, Kall. Fuck.”

He grunts, palming my ass and simultaneously squeezing and pushing me deeper onto the obvious sign of his want sticking under me.

“You’re fine like this without the crowd,” he says. “See? All fine. Trust me.”

Crowd.

The crazy part in me flips. My jaw clenches from anger coursing through. What’s his problem? I’m not in need of fixing because fixing insinuates that I’m a helpless damsel in distress, and I’ve taken care of my family for years. In fact, when my extended family, mum, Chester, and my own biological father haven’t been there, I’ve been it. The head of the family. I’ve been the one in control, not the other way around.

Who does Nate think he is, hinting at the ridiculousness of my fear of being alone with a guy?

I bring back my leg up and over him, stand back.

“Kall Bell,” Nate says, resting his hand on my shoulder.

I throw it off, dart back inside, and cover with, “Aw, shit. It’s okay. I panicked, thinking I forgot my phone on the bench in the store.” I tap the front pocket on my skirt. “But it’s here.”

I check the time and say I have to get back. Even if I’m sure he’ll see through it.

“Oh,” I call, as he starts heading off, “why did you wake up and come here at this ungodly hour?”

“Just wanted to talk to you.”

And there, he leaves me with that. Wanted to talk in what way? About being cool with last night? About not being cool with it?

I’ll never know as I climb the stairs and say, “Hi, Mrs Johnson. Roberta. Come on in.”





5




He comes into my room as I’m slipping on my pyjama tank top. His footsteps are heavy and Mum’s are light. I don’t even like her seeing me naked but my tank is still around my head and so I just push it down and hope he didn’t see my nipples, because that’s weird. He’s so old!

“You need to knock! You know Mum said for me to go to bed!”

I’m so embarrassed. The feeling has my bones frozen as ice in, like, a second. Oh my God, I can’t believe Mum’s boyfriend just saw my flat-chested nipples!

I refuse to look at him. I slide under my comforter, type a text to Scout, although she can’t reply because her Dad only gives her enough credit to call them in emergencies.