Where We Left Off
: Part 1 – Chapter 5

“You’re home awfully late again.” Hattie didn’t look up from her phone. It illuminated her face, and when whoever she was texting replied, I could see the reflection of that, too. Her fingers flew across the little keyboard that was flipped out on the device.

It was eleven, but it was Friday, and that was my curfew. Hattie, my older sister, was nineteen. Her curfew wasn’t until midnight, but apparently she didn’t have any place better to be than on our couch texting her friends rather than hanging out with them.

“Yup,” was my reply.

“You ever gonna introduce this mystery girl to us? You’ve been hanging out for weeks now.” Again, no eye contact. It made me think of all the times I’d had my face glued to my phone. How I’d walk down the street with my fingers on the keypad. I never looked up. There must’ve been so much I missed. That night when I met Mallory should’ve been like that, but my battery had died halfway into my shift. Stupid thing never held a charge. I wondered if I would’ve walked right by her if it hadn’t. If I ever would’ve noticed her.

“Come on, Heathcliff. Do we get to meet her?” Hattie asked again.

“Maybe.”

I sauntered to the kitchen and yanked on the refrigerator door. Mom worked nights as a pediatric nurse in the ICU at Stanton Hospital and dad was an ER surgeon there. He’d been on call tonight, and based on the fact that he was nowhere to be seen, I guessed he’d gotten that call to come in. Even with their loaded schedules, though, they always made sure we were taken care of. The Tupperware filled with leftover lasagna made me smile. The Post-It note that read, “For you, Cliffy,” made me laugh. Both things made me feel loved.

Our family didn’t spend a lot of time together, but I didn’t think the quantity of time was necessarily what it took to know how someone felt. The moments we had together meant something. I was good at loving intensely. Mom and Dad had shown me how to do that. Hattie? Not so much, but I knew these were the years where we weren’t supposed to get along. Someday we’d be older with families and our own kids would play and grow up together the same way we’d grown up with our cousins back in California. Even still, I did love her, and I figured she loved me. The fact that she was asking to meet Mallory was a small and subtle sign of that, whether she’d ever admit to it or not.

“Mom made cookies.” Hattie flicked her head toward the stove, fingers still tapping out a reply. “Peanut butter.”

“Awesome.”

I forked the lasagna and ate the entire bowl of leftovers in about four bites. Mom’s cookies weren’t warm any longer, but they were the underdone kind where the middles remained all gooey and the outsides were just the right amount of crumble. I slipped two into a Ziploc bag and took them with me to my room. My backpack was on my unmade bed and I opened it to throw the cookies in, right next to my calculus and chemistry books. I planned to give them to Mallory tomorrow at school. I didn’t know if she liked peanut butter, but my guess was that she probably loved it.

In fact, I wondered if there was anything she didn’t love.

I had to replace out, so I grabbed my phone and punched her number into it. Plus, I really just wanted to hear her adorable voice.

“Heath!” She answered on the second ring. “How the heck are you?”

We’d been together twenty minutes earlier. I loved that she still asked the question, as though something had changed between then and now. Something had changed, entirely altering my mood: I wasn’t with her anymore.

“I’m hanging in there. You?”

“I was better when you were here.” Honesty. Everything she said was always truthful, regardless of whether it made her vulnerable or not. People were usually vulnerable with those they felt safe around. I took it as a compliment that she could open up so easily to me. “I had a lot of fun with you tonight. As always.”

“Me too.” Though she couldn’t see me, I still felt self-conscious as I tugged my hoodie over my head and undid my belt, one hand still on the phone. My jeans dropped to the floor and I stepped out of them. I kicked them to the side and walked over to my bed, ready to get in.

“What are you up to?”

I laughed. What would her reaction be if I told her I was just lounging around in my boxers? I knew I’d get a genuine response, but I didn’t want to embarrass her. She was too pure and so good and over the weeks we’d been dating, that had only become clearer.

“Just getting ready for bed.” It was a safe reply. My heart suddenly jolted, wondering if she was doing the same. “You?”

“I’m already in bed.” Her voice was soft and quiet. This was where the phone wasn’t enough. I wanted to be there with her. The thought of holding her, the covers wrapped around us, made me sweat.

We hadn’t really done anything in the three short weeks we’d known each other. Maybe that was because we spent all our time at her house with her grandmother and Tommy, who I’d found out was actually her dad. Hanging out with relatives was often a buzzkill, but in our case, I actually enjoyed their company.

I just enjoyed Mallory’s company more.

We’d brushed hands and fingers and sat so closely next to one another that we could feel the rhythm of our breathing in the way our bodies pulled up and down against our touching shoulders. But I hadn’t made that move to grab her hand and keep it in mine. I’d wanted to. I’d wanted to do that and more. But something about Mallory made me want to protect her, too. Made me want to take my time with her.

She had all the qualities of a girl you’d fall in love with, and I knew if I didn’t go slowly, all our firsts would rush together. I wouldn’t be able to help myself.

So I put it all off.

“What are you wearing?” The words fell out, mostly as a joke, but I didn’t know if she’d interpret it as one.

“Heath!”

“Hey, it’s an innocent enough question.” I wanted her to pick up on the flirt in my voice. We could have a lot of fun with this.

“I’m wearing pink polka dot footsie pajamas.”

“You are not.”

“Sure I am. The kind with the flap and the buttons on the back. You?”

“I’m in my superman undies.”

Mallory was in full hysterics. The way her laughter echoed through the phone would’ve made anyone else hold the device out from their ear to avoid the blare, but I didn’t. I pressed it between my cheek and my shoulder as I slid down under my comforter.

“I bet that’s something.” She giggled, which was followed by a pause. I knew we were both picturing the descriptions we’d given one another. It made me wish she’d given me a little more to work with, but I had a good imagination. Even under all the layers—the thick wool sweaters and jackets and scarves—I could tell Mallory had an incredible body. There were girls that flaunted what they had, even in the dead of winter. She didn’t do that. That made her hot as hell.

“Oh, it’s something, all right.”

Silence again, but it wasn’t awkward. Hesitant, maybe. The ceiling fan above me ticked softly with each rotation. The circulating air curled a corner of my Sum 41 poster and it made a papery rustling. Even over those background noises, I could hear her shallow breathing. Could sense the rise and fall of her chest.

“Mallory.” I hadn’t meant to say her name, to have it escape on a breath.

“Heath.”

I swallowed audibly. “When I kiss you, what’s it going to be like?”

Maybe it was the sound of the heater kicking on, but I swore I heard a little gasp through the phone. “When?”

“Yes.” Some of my confidence returned. I smiled to myself. “When I kiss you. Because it’s a when.”

“I don’t know what it will be like.” Her voice was small. “I’ve never been kissed before.”

Of course she hadn’t. I wanted to laugh, not at all to make fun of her, but just from the fact that all the pieces of Mallory fit together so completely. Everything made sense, which was unexpected, even though it shouldn’t be.

“I’ll tell you how it will go, then.”

“Okay.”

She liked this, I could sense it. If she hadn’t, she’d let me know, because Mallory wasn’t one to shy away from her feelings. She’d say for me to knock it off or that I was making her uncomfortable. I appreciated that about her, that she didn’t let anyone get away with doing something she didn’t want them to. So I assumed that meant she wanted to kiss me, too. I went with it.

“First, I’m going to make sure I’ve put on a lot of ChapStick ahead of time because this awful weather is terrible on the lips. No one wants to kiss that.”

“I might want to kiss that.”

I stuttered, not expecting her to interject. “Maybe, but only because you don’t know any better. Sandpaper lips are no fun. Trust me.”

“All right.” She laughed. “I do.”

And she did trust me, so I kept going. “I’m going to look you right in those light green eyes of yours. You’ll recognize how it feels because it’s the same look I give you every time I’m with you. That look where I’m wondering how on earth a girl like you literally fell into my life, and why you’ve let me stay around. My stomach is going to feel like it’s both on fire and not even there at all, and yours will too.” My breath quickened and I made sure that my words didn’t try to match the pace. I deliberately slowed everything down. “I’ll move a little closer …”

“Uh, huh.”

“Not all the way, just enough where I can still look at you. You’ll be able to feel my breath on your mouth. It will be warm and minty because I’ll have brushed my teeth before coming over.”

“I don’t think I would care if you didn’t.”

“Still,” I teased. “I will. Only the best for you.”

“Aquafresh, then.”

“Okay.” I chuckled at her suggestion. “Okay. I can arrange that. Anyway, I’ll move in and lift my palm to the back of your neck. My hand will probably be shaking, but you won’t mind. My other hand will cradle your jaw and I’ll pull you a little closer. Then I’ll close my eyes.” I couldn’t believe I was doing this, and how turned on I was getting in just describing a kiss. I knew there were plenty of websites I could visit or things I could look up to get the job done a little quicker, but this was doing enough for me. As much as I should do with Mallory, I figured. “You’ll take that as your cue to close your eyes, too.”

“I am.”

God, that girl made me smile. The thought of her—even if she was wearing those ridiculous pajamas she talked about—taking in every word I said, doing it along with me, was too much. She was too much.

“All right,” I said. “Then my lips will meet yours. Soft at first. Just the bottom one. I’ll lean in so our chests touch. You’ll be able to feel my heart, how it thuds and pounds. Yours will do the same. You’ll bring your hands around my waist and encircle your arms around me, too. I’ll run my fingers through your hair and guide you with my hand on the back of your neck. It will be slow and you’ll suddenly be able to feel it in every inch of your body. The way your toes tingle. How your legs are weightless. That flutter deep in your stomach. The pulse in your wrist. The sweat on your brow.”

I needed to thank Mrs. Ritcher, my sophomore English teacher, for that section on poetry and prose. Clearly I had learned a thing or two from that unit. By the sounds of Mallory on the other line, I figured she was also grateful for the A+ I’d pulled out of that class.

“I feel it.”

So did I. I felt every bit of what I was saying as though it was happening right here, right now. I wondered if they had those 1-900 number jobs for guys, too, or if phone sex was just a thing girls got paid to do. Either way, it wasn’t like I’d experience this reaction with anyone else. It was just Mallory. Only her.

“It wouldn’t last too long because I’d leave you wanting more. Just long enough to where those butterflies started to go away, but not before they all left completely. I’d take a step back and I wouldn’t open my eyes until we were no longer touching. Then I’d flash you my dimples,” I said. “And you’d most likely faint due to my mad skills.”

It was absolutely quiet on the line. Radio silence.

I waited a moment. It felt like she wasn’t even there anymore. Then I would be an idiot, having spent all this time describing a kiss to no one at all. Had Hattie heard me through the door, she’d never let me live it down. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Good God, Heath.”

“Yeah?”

“That was the best first kiss ever, and it didn’t even happen!”

I snorted. “I suppose that’s one way to word it.”

“Hmmm.” The sound she made sounded contented, so warm and full.

“Hmmm.” I tried to echo back, but my murmur was frustrated and gargled. But I was frustrated, so it fit.

“Heath?” she continued. “Was the real reason you called tonight to try to seduce me and get me all hot and bothered? Or did you have other motives?”

“The seducing was totally impromptu.” I rolled onto my side and wedged the phone against my shoulder. My hair was long and probably in need of a trim, but the girls seemed to like it. At least Mallory did, and hers was the only opinion I cared about lately. I pulled a band off my nightstand and wound it around my hair at the base of my neck. “I actually called to ask you if there is anything you don’t like.”

“Anything I don’t like?”

“Yeah.” I nodded though she couldn’t see. “You seem to have a love for everything, Mallory. It’s contagious. But it made me wonder if there are things you don’t like, too. You can’t like everything.”

“Of course there are things I don’t like.”

“Like what?”

The heater shut off and it was quiet again, except for the fan and the poster fluttering and my heart that I could hear as though it beat in my ears instead of my chest like it had gotten its location all wrong.

“I don’t like that I have to wait until tomorrow to experience that first kiss. That’s something I don’t like … at all.”

I smiled. “Me neither.”

“Oh,” she shot out like she had one last thing to say before hanging up. “I also don’t care for peanut butter. But that’s about it.”