By the time Sunday morning came, I got out of bed and made a giant chocolate ice cream sundae. I always eat sundaes when I’m sad, depressed, or really pissed. Right now, I was all of the above.
Halfway through my sundae, I got a phone call on my cell phone.
I answered it. “Hello?” I asked.
“Hey Chanel. It’s Josh. Can I come over? Maybe we can sort things out.”
“No.” I told him. “I don’t even want to talk to you. Let alone see you.”
He was quiet for a moment, then sighed.
“Listen, I am sorry for all that’s happening. I didn’t think that keeping one secret out of the light would cause this much…”
“What? Drama? Cause I am getting a lot of it lately.”
“No. Tension. Between me and you.”
I had to register what he had just said. “I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. It’s really hard to explain. Can I just come over there to sort it all out? I am begging you. I never beg.” he said.
I thought about it for a while. I guess it wouldn’t be that bad. I would get the answers to the questions that puzzle me.
“Ok. Fine. Come over.”
“Thanks.” Then he hung up.
Then I finally noticed how he knew my phone number. I never gave it to him and I doubt that anyone else did. He has ways.
************************************************************************
The last thing that I expected as I went downstairs to wash my empty bowl and spoon was a knock on the door. My parents and Sara were at church and wouldn’t be back for a while. I didn’t go because I really wasn’t feeling well. Really.
The knock came again and then the very seductive voice that I hated.
“It’s Josh. I know that you’re in there Chanel.”
I walked towards the door and let him in.
“How did you get my phone number? Or knew where I lived?”
“I have my ways.” he said.
Figures.
“Listen, can you just snap this thing up? I’m pretty busy with my…feminine duties.”
“Look, I don’t care about your PMSing issues and how it’s treating you like a bitch, I just wanted to talk.” He said as he made his way to sit on the couch.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I said to him sarcastically.
He gave me that same sly smile and patted the seat next to him. I made my way over and sat about 1 foot away from him. My problem was that he kept coming closer.
“Ok, so we talked. How about you get out my house now?” I said, trying to not meet his gaze.
He started to slowly stroke my arm. I wanted to move it because it was wrong, very wrong on so many levels. But, it also felt so good.
“So, what do you wanna talk about?” he asked.
“First off, quit stroking my arm. If I tell my dad that you touched me, those arms won’t be there, and neither will you.”
He stopped stroking my arm and went back to where he sat. One foot away from me.
“Second, you came here to talk to me. I didn’t want to.”
“What, did I force you or something?” he told me.
I looked over at him as I was thinking of the answer. He didn’t really force me, more like persuaded me. As I was thinking of answers, his gaze met mine.
Then one thing led to another.
“Look, Chanel, I know a lot has been going through our lives for the past couple weeks. So, I came up with a present that will cheer us both up.” he said.
“Is it a Wii?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t care about your present.” I told him as I started to get up.
“Actually, I don’t care whether you care or not.”
Then he got up and moved his face closer to mine, so that our lips were about one inch apart.
“This is wrong. You know it.” I told him.
“Who said I was ever right? Let alone a good guy.”
“You seem like the type.”
“I seem like a lot of things I’m not.”
The space between our lips had vanished. Vamoosed. Non existent.
I was just sitting there stunned until I felt my own lips move with his. I was actually kissing him back.
And I was enjoying it.
I’m going to hell for sure this time.
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