I Always Wonder What Would Happen If I Sang You a Love Song

Duncan. Lacy.

Oh.

Just thinking of the name, not even the person it belonged to, sent tremulous shivers down my spine. I carried my books close to my chest, hugging them as I dodged the rowdy teenagers of the hallway. I just wanted to make it to my AP Literature class safely.

“Hey! Hey! You with the face!” I knew it was my best friend, Serena, yelling at me from behind, so I instantly stopped and felt someone slam into me.

“Ha ha! Sucker!” I yelled, turning around to stick my tongue out at the person behind me.

Except it wasn’t Serena. Who was now laughing so hard she turned as red as her hair, which, believe me, is pretty red, and pointing at the person I had practically backwards body slammed into the floor.

Duncan.

“Of all the…” I muttered to myself, as my arch nemesis glared at me from the floor.

“Jesus, bitch!”

“Don’t slap him, don’t slap him, don’t slap him…” I muttered to myself.

“Watch where you’re going,” he spat as he clambered up.

“Uh, hello? How far exactly is your head up your ass?” I asked. “Can you not see? You walked into me.”

The unknowing beneficiary of my emotions—real love and fake hate—rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered, pushing his way past me to get into the class.

I sighed to myself. “Whatever.” I waited for Serena to walk into the classroom. After laughing on and on, she finally did, though she was still giggling a little as she walked next to me to our seats. The tables, which seated two to a table, were from the science lab. Mr. Armond took them because they were cool and knew we liked sitting up high on stools.

Yes, best teacher ever.

“Alright, class,” Mr. Armond said loudly.

I stiffened, hearing the familiar tone. It was the start of a new semester, and he always did something at the start of new semesters that made me regret taking his class a little, despite how much I really enjoyed it. “Oh, boy…” I whispered to Serena, who nodded in agreement.

“I’ve decided to re-arrange your seating chart. The person I sit you next to will be your partner for an extensive project that I will further explain about to you later.” He took his glasses off of his face and rubbed his eyes. “Okay…” He covered his eyes with his hand. “You!” he pointed at Serena.

“Yes?”

Without uncovering his eyes, he said, “Sit there,” pointing at a random seat in the middle of the first row.

She shrugged. “Okay.” She walked over to the desk and sat down on the chair on the right.

“Now… you!” Mr. Armond pointed at Jacob, one of Duncan’s friends.

“Yeah?” Jacob popped his gum.

“Next to her,” Mr. Armond instructed him. He went through this for most of class, until asking, “How many kids are left?”

I looked around. Duncan, John, Emily, and I were the only ones left.

“Four,” the class answered.

“Alright… uh… you!” he said, pointing at me.

“Yes?”

“Sit… there!” He pointed and the table behind Serena.

I walked over and sat down, pulling out my notebook and pencil and began to write. I was drifting off when I felt someone sit next to me. Glancing over to my left, I locked eyes with Duncan, his sharp blue eyes boring into my brown ones. I looked away and coughed with embarrassment.

“Are you alright?” Duncan asked. “You look a little flushed.”

His unusual kindness flustered me to the point that I had to turn my body completely away from him. I took a few deep breaths of air to steady myself. Once I regained composure, I turned back to face the front. Out of my peripheral vision, I could see him watching me. This caused me to blink rapidly, trying to get him out of my head. But how could I when he was seated so close? I could smell him… he was wearing some kind of Axe body wash. It was… wonderful.

I had to stop it. I had to stop, stop my senses from paying such close attention to him. I glanced at the table, noticing our arms very close together. I saw that we were very close in color, me having a natural tan, him having a tan from playing baseball.

“Alright, class!” Mr. Armond walked to the front of the room. “About this project. I am going to assign each pair a piece of Shakespearean literature, and you will give me your opinions of this book, on the main characters. You may rant, or you may give me some lines. Tell me, depending on what happens in the book, what kind of idea this book gave you about love. You may write an essay, which,” he stated, “I do not advise due to that fact that I need it to be creative. I need to see where opinions agree and differ. I want every single piece of your thought process of love that you get from this book. Power Point, poster, skit, whatever. You will present it.” He paused, letting it all sink in. He pointed at Serena and Jacob. “You two get… Macbeth! You!” He turned to me and Duncan. “Romeo and Juliet.”

Romeo and Juliet. The tale of two star crossed lovers, their lives ending in tragedy.

“Oh, Lord.” I slumped in my seat a little.

Mr. Armond continued to assign books to the groups. After, he declared, “You may get started. This is the only class period you will have to do it. The rest will need to be done at home. Oh! And,” he added, “I will know if only one of you put in effort. So make sure you both work on it. Alright? Okay.”

I sat in shock. Working together… after school… at each other’s houses…

My brain shut off. I literally could not think.

“Um, hello?” Duncan was prodding me. “Anyone up there? Not that you were really there to begin with…”

My fantasies all drifted off. “Oh, shut up,” I snapped. “Let’s just get started.”

He shrugged. “Fine by me.”

~

It was Friday afternoon, and as I drove along, Panic! At the Disco blasted from my car speakers, calming my nerves a little. I was going over to Duncan’s house to work on the project. I pulled into his driveway and stared at his two-story house, realizing that I was about to see his room. The thought sent my stomach into a frenzy again, so I leaned by head back and listened to a few verses of Time to Dance. I took a deep breath, grabbed my backpack, and hopped out of the car. I walked up his driveway slowly until I reached the door. A few moments after I knocked, a woman with brown hair and green eyes, with looks very similar to Duncan’s, opened the door.

“Hi, you must be Katherine Anne,” she greeted, smiling. “Come on in.”

I smiled. “Thank you.” Walking into the house, I noticed how nice everything looked. My house was pretty nice, too, but I loved two-story houses, which we didn’t live in.

“He’s upstairs,” Duncan’s mother interrupted my train of thought. “First door on the left. I have to go run some errands, but I left some sandwiches if you would like.”

“Thank you,” I told her, waving goodbye as I walked up the stairs. I got to Duncan’s room. There was no answer when I knocked on his door. I heard a faint noise, so I pressed my ear to the door, and could faintly make out music. Shrugging, I swung the door open, only to find a half-naked Duncan rubbing his wet, shaggy brown hair with a towel. He was wearing jeans, not too skinny but not too loose, and they were slung low on his hips. His stomach was tanned; toned. I stared at him, openmouthed. He stared back, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. The music, very loud now that the door was open, sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it due to the fact that my brain had combusted. “Sorry,” I finally squeaked.

He cleared his throat a couple of times. “Oh. I didn’t hear you knock. Loud music and all,” he gestured at the iHome.

Finally managing to tear my eyes away from him, I looked down, muttering, “It’s okay.”

“Would you mind going into my backpack and getting my green notebook out?” he asked as he walked over to his closet, turning off his iPod on the way.

“Uh, sure,” I replied, bending down to his back pack. Upon finding the green notebook, I pulled it out. There were a lot of books in the backpack. “Hey, Duncan.”

“Yeah?” He was pulling a shirt over his head.

“There’s a lot of stuff in here. I’m surprised you can fit it all in.” I walked over to his bed and sat down.

“That’s what she said,” he replied teasingly, walking over and sitting next to me.

I retorted, “Yeah, but not to you!”

“You’re right, it wasn’t to me. It was to your mom!”

I gave Duncan a look. “Really. The ‘your mom’ thing?”

He shrugged. “It’s funny.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Your mom’s stupid!”

I looked him straight in the eyes. “My mom’s dead.”

He winced. His eyes, I noticed, softened, losing their teasing glint. “Sorry.”

I leaned back a little. “It’s fine. I’ve gotten over it.”

“Still…”

“It’s fine,” I insisted. I sat up, grabbing his notebook. “Let’s get to work.”

~

“Romeo’s a prick!” I insisted. “One day he loves Rosaline, and then he sees Juliet and they’re in love?”

“But what he felt for Rosaline was only sexual, physical,” Duncan argued. “He felt real love for Juliet.”

“Bah!” I threw my hands up in the air. “Don’t even get me started on Juliet! One day she’s all, ‘Maybe we shouldn’t, Romeo, it’s much too fast!’” I gave myself a British when mimicking Juliet. “And then within, what, four hours it all changes to, ‘Oh, Romeo! Marry me, Romeo! I’ll give you all my money and follow you everywhere!’ I mean, really! Where’s your feminist pride, girl?” I sat down on the floor, my back against his bed, tired after my little tirade.

“Huh.” I looked up and saw Duncan, who was laying on the bed, peering at me. “You’re really skeptical when it comes to love, aren’t you?”

“Maybe it’s just because I don’t want to admit that I might have fallen in love with you,” I almost said, but instead announced, “Maybe it’s just because I didn’t really grow up with it. Reality can hurt, and I don’t want to get squashed.”

“By what? Reality?” asked Duncan.

I looked down. “Love.”

It was silent for a moment, and then Duncan’s cell phone rang. “Hello?” he answered. “Uh-huh… no… but… Oh! Well, alright.” He flipped the phone shut, looking at me, biting his lip adorably.

I raised my eyebrows.

“Okay… Jacob’s hosting this party…”

“No,” I replied, not missing a beat.

“There might be alcohol, might not.” Duncan coaxed.

“Nope. Sorry. I don’t do drugs nor do I drink alcohol.”

“Me neither.”

I flashed a fake grin at him. “Good. So neither of us needs to go, then.”

“Oh, come on!” He grabbed my arm as he slid off the bed. “Unwind! Dance! Have some fun! We’ve worked really, really hard!” He pulled me up so we were standing, facing each other, his lanky 6’1 frame in front of my 5’7 one. His eyes pleaded with mine.

I bit my lip. “Fine.”

He punched the air triumphantly. “Yes!”

~

Music pounded in my ears, and my heart thrummed. I nervously glanced around at all the people. All of the girls were hot, and so were the guys. I didn’t belong. I felt it. I wanted to turn around and run in the other direction. But, no, instead I followed Duncan through the crowd, until I bumped into someone. “Sorry,” I told them, and then looked at where I last saw Duncan. He was nowhere to be found.

I was very, very pissed off. The nerve! He just left me there, stranded, when I didn’t even want to go in the first place!

“Hey, baby,” someone whispered in my ear, and I turned my head to the other side when I smelled their foul breath. I gave myself some distance and turned to see the drunken idiot who was hitting on me. It was one of Jacob and Duncan’s friends.

“Um, hi. I’m just gonna go now.” I spun around to leave, but he grabbed my wrist and slurred, “Hey, now, don’t leave yet. The fun hasn’t started.”

“Yeah, and I’m going to leave before it does.” I pulled myself away from him.

“Who’d you come with?” he pestered.

I sighed impatiently. “Duncan.”

“Well,” he garbled. “Duncan seems to be a little preoccupied at the moment.” He pointed at Duncan, who was being grinded on by a blonde girl with big boobs.

Of course. I felt so stupid. I felt tears well up, and I yanked myself away from the idiotic drunk who was now talking to a rock.

I stormed down the driveway, tears sliding down my face. It was a little windy, but bearable, so I zipped my hoodie up and kept marching. I didn’t know where I was, and the house where the party had been was a little far away from the other houses in the neighborhood. I kept walking, kept walking. I didn’t care where I was going; I just knew that as long as I walked by the road, I was bound to find a house along the way.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” I knocked myself on the head a little for leaving my cell phone at Duncan’s house. I turned around, and the house was only a little bright dot now. I turned back around to keep walking, when I suddenly heard a car coming from the direction of the party. As it got closer, I recognized the car and its driver.

“Kat,” Duncan called, windows rolled down.

I ignored him.

“Katherine Anne,” he tried again.

I hugged myself tighter and walked faster.

The car was inching along right beside me now, and it was so close he could have poked me. I was more afraid of him accidentally running my foot over than anything else.

“Kat. Get in the car,” Duncan told me.

“Duncan. Go to hell,” I replied.

“Katherine, I am so serious right now.”

“Duncan, I am, too.” A tear slid down my face, and more soon followed.

He sighed. “Why’d you leave?”

I stopped walking. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t want to go to the goddamn party in the first place, and then I go with you, and you leave me! Maybe it’s because some drunken idiot hit on me and then proceeded to talk to a rock! Maybe it’s because I thought something would happen between us, and then I saw you grinding up on that gorgeous girl, and felt so stupid for ever falling in love with you in the first place!” And with that, I began walking again, almost sobbing.

I heard a car door slam and I heard the car lock. Footsteps clattered behind me, and then I was suddenly pulled into a warm embrace. I held onto him as I broke down, sobbing and sobbing. He pulled away a little and wiped my tears away, cradling my face in both hands.

“Shh,” he shushed me soothingly, and the loving gesture almost made me break down again.

“Why are you doing this?” I demanded, my voice cracking.

“Because,” he said softly, “I love you.” Then he kissed me, and it was everything I ever dreamed of. Fireworks, boiling blood, my insides melting…

I pushed him away. “No!”

He looked puzzled. “What?”

“You don’t love me!” I cried.

He looked shocked. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t love me! You’re just like Romeo, with your stupid fickle feelings! You’re all into hot Rosaline, and then you see me, and think you’re in love! But you’re not! And it’ll just all end in tragedy!” Hot tears slid down my face, and I wiped them away quickly.

“How do you know?” he demanded. “How do you know what I feel?”

“B-because…” I really had nothing.

“Exactly!” He threw his hands up in the air. “You don’t know!”

I looked away.

“How do I explain,” he asked softly, “how I feel when I see you? When I bump into you, when you talk to me? When you look at me, my stomach bursts into flame, and my heart melts. When I hear your voice, you command me. I look at you and you only. How do I explain,” he asked slowly, “the fact that the only songs I listen to now are love songs, and I always wonder what would happen if I sang one for you?” He took my hand and placed it over his heart. “How do I explain how my body reacts to you, like my heart speeding up, or my whole body just aching because I have to stop myself from reaching over, grabbing you, and kissing you? Like this,” he placed his lips on mine, and I wished it would never stop.

I pulled away once more, tearing myself away from it all. “But… are you sure it’s love?” I asked.

He nodded, and I could see it in his eyes.

I smiled a little. “Because you know, if this happens, there are some things that you need to know. You need to always be there for me. Hold my hand always. Kiss me wherever, just a peck in public. Make me feel beautiful. Cheer me up when I’m sad. Be able to handle me when I’m PMSing. But most importantly,” I told him, “you have to love me when I least deserve it, because that’s when I really need it.”

He stared down at me, and then a slow, sexy smile spread across his face. “Forever and always,” he promised, kissing me once more, slowly and lazily, like we had all the time in the world.

And you know what? We did. With time on our side, we would have forever.