The Force of Gravity(26)

Emily gasps when I step out of the dressing room.

“What do you think?” I ask, trying to hide my glee. I need her honest opinion.

A small smirk plays at her lips. “I think you might be breaking some school rules in that dress.”

“Why?” I turn around in front of the mirror. “It doesn’t show anything.”

“And yet, it shows everything,” she says, deadpan.

I tear myself away from my reflection and turn to her. “Tell me the truth.”

“You saw my reaction! I had to pick my jaw up off the floor, Kay.”

After a final turn in the mirror, I say, “Okay. This is the one.”

Emily laughs and shakes her head. “Tommy is going to explode.”

We pay for our dresses, then walk to dinner, chatting about the boys, school, and our summer plans. Twinkle lights line the streets of the shopping center, illuminating the walkway as the sun sets against the desert-orange sky. I breathe in the dry air of the balmy evening and exhale. It feels like old times with her tonight, and a flutter of emotions fills my chest. I miss my best friend. And even more, I miss my carefree life. We gab about everything—well, almost everything. A pang in my heart reminds me our friendship still isn’t quite what it used to be. . . . I long to tell her about Mr. Slate, but swallow the temptation, causing a small knot to form in the pit of my stomach.

“You found the perfect dress to lose your virginity in, Kay,” says Emily, taking a bite of her ravioli.

“Shh!” I glance around the restaurant.

“Chill, no one heard me,” she says. “So, are you nervous? Excited?”

“Um, yeah. Both.”

Her expression softens. “Are you ready?”

I let out a sigh. “I am. I really am,” I say, trying to convince the both of us. “It’s time, and Tommy’s a great guy. I love him, you know?”

“You guys are great together, Kay. And he really loves you, too. Maybe we’ll have a double wedding one day.” She laughs.

“I . . .” Speech evades me, and I stare at my salad. I wonder if she would hate me if she knew what I did last Friday.

“I’m kidding,” she says. “Besides, who else would be my maid of honor?” She waves a hand in my face, breaking my daze. “Wow, you are nervous. Don’t stress about prom, Kay, you’ll be fine. And even if the sex isn’t that great, it will get better—I promise.”

I squirm in my seat. If I can talk about sex to anyone, it’s Emily. She’s the closest thing I have to a sister, and she’s experienced . . . but I can’t bring myself to ask her any questions.

Taking a sip of my iced tea, I look at my best friend, listening as she goes on about the different ways we can do our hair and makeup now that we know what our dresses look like. I nod along, intermittently giving my opinion, but the urge to tell her about Slate is building inside me.

Tell her. She won’t tell anyone. Who else do you have to confide in?

“Kay?” Emily’s concerned voice pulls me back to her. “Are you okay? You look like you’re in pain.”

Tell her!

I can’t.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I say. “Sorry, I just didn’t chew enough before I swallowed that last bite. Hurt going down a little.” I fake a cough and take a sip of my tea.

Emily’s eyes scrutinize me. She doesn’t seem to be buying it, but drops it in the end.



THE NEXT DAY is the semi-final game for the high school baseball state championship. Emily picks me up, and we drive to the game early, securing ourselves front row seats. I ignore Slate as he paces up and down the sideline and focus my attention on Tommy. Emily and I cheer for the guys and yell at the umpire every time he makes a bad call—or just a call we don’t like. It ends up being a close game. We’re up until the last two innings, but end up losing the game by three runs. But the good news is: No more baseball. And no more Mr. Slate disrupting my free time.

Emily and I wait for the boys outside of the locker room, anticipating their sullen moods, determined to cheer them up. The crowd of rowdy students makes it hard to hear much of what Emily is saying, and I have to rise on the tip of my toes to see the locker room door. My stomach drops when Tommy and Derek step out of the locker room . . . with Mr. Slate.

Can a girl get a break around here?

The three of them are carrying huge bags of equipment and are deep in conversation. Tommy’s face brightens when our eyes meet, and he trots up to me.

I throw my arms around him. “I’m sorry you lost.”

“That’s okay,” he says. “With you next to me, I feel like a winner.” A pain pricks my chest, and he pulls my face to his, giving me a soft kiss. Then he leads me out to the parking lot with Derek, Emily, and Mr. Slate in tow.

Kill me now, please.

Tommy steers me toward the Tahoe, and I feel myself panic. “Where are we going?”

“This is Slate’s car,” he says.

Yeah, I’m well aware of that.

“We’re just dropping off some equipment real quick, then we’ll go, okay?”

I try to smile. “No problem.”

The boys toss the bags in the back, and I step aside. Mr. Slate and I don’t make eye contact—not that I’m looking his way. His unexpected presence nearly shakes the barrier I’ve built between us, and I have to steal myself for a moment. I slip around the corner and lean against the side of the Tahoe, wrapping my arms around my waist. I can hear Slate thanking Derek and Tommy, and the slaps of their typical bro-handshakes, as I focus on my shoes, wishing they’d hurry. I glance at the shiny rim next to me as memories beg to be let back in. I squeeze my eyes closed, pushing them out.

“Excuse me, Kaley,” a silky voice meets my ear.

I jerk my head up and see Mr. Slate standing directly in front of me. He peers down his nose at me, but his expression is soft. I glance to my right and notice the slim space between me and the truck parked next to the Tahoe and quickly straighten up to give him room to pass. He squeezes past me, and I hold my breath, intentionally blocking his captivating scent from filling my airways.

Tommy pokes his head out from around the back. “Coming, babe?”

Exhaling, I take his hand as I hear the driver’s door of the Tahoe shut. We follow Derek and Emily out to the student lot in silence.

Don’t look back at him, don’t look back at him.

My resolve weakens, and I can’t resist peering over my shoulder.

He’s staring right at me. . . .

Damn it.



AFTER A LOVELY dinner with Derek’s parents, Tommy takes me home just before midnight. My headphones keep me up late before my brain shuts down, and I finally drift off. Sleep is my new best friend, granting me temporary escape from my life.



THE DOORBELL RIPS me out of a dreamless slumber. Confused, I slide off my headphones and shuffle down the dark stairs, with only the moonlight shining through the windows to lead the way. I peek out the shutters and see a black Tahoe parked outside. I rush to the door and swing it open. Elijah stands before me, still wearing the same athletic pants and shirt he wore after the game tonight.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him.

His eyes are soft. “I wanted to apologize. I’m sorry, Kaley,” he says, stepping into the house, “but I can’t get you off my mind.” I take a step back, but he grabs my arms and pulls me close to him, lowering his lips to mine. Unable to resist, I wrap my arms around his neck, and his mouth moves with urgency as he pushes me back into the living room. The back of my knees hit the edge of the couch cushion, and I fall into a sitting position.

“My parents are home,” I whisper, looking up at him.

His eyes twinkle as an alluring grin spreads across his face. He pins me down on the couch, pressing himself on top of me and brushes his mouth against my jaw line. His scent is like a drug, and my body calls out to him.

“Elijah,” I murmur, “I thought you said—”

His tongue suddenly invades my mouth, quieting me instantly as he slides his hands underneath my shirt, skimming his fingers up my sides. My body shivers. He pulls his head back and studies my face.

“Did you tell Tommy about us?” he asks.

I try to speak, but can’t.

He smirks. “He probably wouldn’t like it too much if he knew.”

“It was just a one-time thing . . . I thought.”

“Yes,” he breathes, kissing my lips. “Although this makes two.”

I want to ask him about his girlfriend. I bet she wouldn’t “like it too much” either. Why do I feel angry all of a sudden?

“No, she wouldn’t like it either,” he says, reading my thoughts.

A salacious grin spreads across his face, and his lips return to mine, my body trembling beneath him. He breaks away too soon, and I touch his face, tracing the outline of his jaw.

“I love you,” I whisper.

His body stiffens, and I instantly regret my words. Panic grips me as he pulls away.

“No, please,” I beg.

Anger grows in his eyes, and his voice is hard. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I didn’t. What are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry, Kaley,” he says, his jaw tightening. “But you’re a child.”

“I’m a child to you? Why did you even come here then?” I shout as angry tears burn in the back of my eyes. “Why would you come to my house and apologize?” I pound my fists against his solid chest. “Why do you do this to me?” My cry is desperate, and I grasp at his shirt as he breaks away. “No! You have to tell me why.” I demand.