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Anywhere But Here
I Wonder if Maybe I Could Be
I remember every detail like it was yesterday.
“This sucks.” he groans, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. We were supposed to have a dinner cook-out at Pat’s place some miles away from John’s, but by some unlucky streak, it began to rain hard, and therefore the ‘trusty rusty’ car broke down.
“Whose car is this again?” I teased, earning at least a small laugh from the distressed-looking boy beside me. He came to pick me up in Garrett’s car, which was a poorly-maintained ’87 Ford truck. “At least we’re halfway there.”
“We can walk.” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Are you nuts?” I protest, leaning on the already-fogged window. “Yeah, you’re nuts.”
John grins, “Come on, Izzy. This is gonna be fun!”
“No, no, no.” I shook my head, “No way am I going to run in this rain. I’d rather sleep here.”
He pursed his lips, but that naughty spark still remained in those green orbs. Without warning, he got out, went to the passenger’s side, and literally hauled me with him. I managed to slam the door shut whilst he assured me we were going to have the car towed first thing in the morning.
My flip-flops were making so much noise against the wet pavement. Within a few minutes of being outside we were completely drenched, ducking under trees, and whatever shelter nature had to offer.
“Fuck.” he mutters through his chattering teeth. Days like these in Arizona tend to be extreme- one minute it was scorching hot, but when it rained, it would be freezing.
“Can we run back home?” I ask, squeezing the water out of the corner of my shorts. His condition was worse- those tight jeans were heavy, and stuck to him even more.
“It’s too far.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Let’s coagulate in the cold out here, then.” I tell him, sarcasm in my tone. I knew this wasn’t our fault, but when you’re out in 40F in shorts and a shirt, you tend to become cranky.
John bursts in laughter, clutching his stomach. I, on the other hand, look at him in repugnance, both hands on my hips. “What’s so damn funny, O’Callaghan?”
“You-“ he laughs some more, that I wanted to slap him at the back of the head, “-said ‘coagulate’! Okay, sorry.”
“So, are we gonna head back home or what?”
“My house is nearer, genius.” he says, raising an eyebrow, being the cocky shithead that he is. I simply tilt my head in agreement, and mutually deciding that running was of no use anyways, we walked.
The house was empty, and it was a good thing because we were dripping all over the wooden floors. “We have to fix this before your parents arrive.” I prompt, following him to the bedroom, where he handed me a towel and a dry shirt.
He plays some music- Sean Kingston, to which I started singing along- and laughs some more at me. He makes a quick trip to the bathroom to change into a shirt and track pants. Suddenly, his eyes land on me- and my white shirt. Naturally, it clung to my body like plastic wrap, and my hot pink bra could be seen, by him.
I blush at the awkwardness of the situation, but there seemed no repulsion from his side. “You’re-“
“I know, sorry.” I say in an attempt to dismiss the feelings I had. This was like an epiphany to both of us- realizing who we were. In front of me was not John, my best friend; instead, he was just a boy, the boy.
“Just, fuck, you know? I see you in another way now.”
“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”
He nibbled his lip in that adorable way that made me want to give him a hug, but I was afraid of what would happen if I did. Thankfully, he took care of the uncertainty. Without another word, he inched closer to me, in small, unsure steps. I was breathing twice as fast, and more as he took my hands in his.
“I can understand if you’ll hate me for this.” he declares, then, leans in and kisses me.
I’ve kissed boys before, but with him I felt like it was my first time again, only minus that inept feeling. Tingles coursed through my body when he placed a hand at the small of my back and aggressively pulled me closer to him.
Warmth spread all over me, even through my wet clothes. It was a nice, comfortable feeling- that of being wanted; being the girl he paid full attention to at that moment. As the kiss deepened, I find myself on my toes, and just giving it my all.
Feeling a little bold, I bit his lip gently- just the right pressure to make him involuntarily groan, and squeeze me tighter. But, like the best of the best moments, something had to ruin it. In our case, my stomach decides to grumble. Loudly.
John pulls away and chuckles. “Get dressed, I’ll make us something.”
I emerge in one of his shirts and a pair of boxers, barefoot, and a stupid smile on my face. The hunger pains remain, especially when the smell of fresh blueberry waffles waft through the air. “You really are something, John.”
He grins at me proudly in a ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron.
We eat in silence, and then I help him wash the dishes. I should be exhausted, but the adrenaline rush kept me going. As soon as I dry my hands off, he mounts me near the sink, and our lips connect again.
The kisses got better each time.
I feel more connected to him, than I’d ever thought possible. It felt like I know everything about him, but this was from a new perspective. From this night, nothing would ever be predictable for us again.
“I’m scared of tomorrow.” I admit, tracing random patterns on his arm. We were now slung on the red velvet couch in a tangled heap of limbs. “Where do we go from here?”
“I have no fuckin’ idea.” he answers, shrugging. “All I know is that I like you a lot, Iz.”
“Then what the hell are we going to do?”
He sighs. “Give me a chance to get to know you- I mean, I’ve known you since birth, but I want to get to know you this way- fuckin’ hell, I don’t make sense, do I?”
I shake my head in mock disappointment. “I get it. This is new to me, too.”
Needless to say, we didn’t even sleep that night- because we didn’t want it to end. I was horrified of the morning, when we’d wake and realize that everything had been a mistake.
Or maybe it was the start of something great.
“This sucks.” he groans, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. We were supposed to have a dinner cook-out at Pat’s place some miles away from John’s, but by some unlucky streak, it began to rain hard, and therefore the ‘trusty rusty’ car broke down.
“Whose car is this again?” I teased, earning at least a small laugh from the distressed-looking boy beside me. He came to pick me up in Garrett’s car, which was a poorly-maintained ’87 Ford truck. “At least we’re halfway there.”
“We can walk.” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Are you nuts?” I protest, leaning on the already-fogged window. “Yeah, you’re nuts.”
John grins, “Come on, Izzy. This is gonna be fun!”
“No, no, no.” I shook my head, “No way am I going to run in this rain. I’d rather sleep here.”
He pursed his lips, but that naughty spark still remained in those green orbs. Without warning, he got out, went to the passenger’s side, and literally hauled me with him. I managed to slam the door shut whilst he assured me we were going to have the car towed first thing in the morning.
My flip-flops were making so much noise against the wet pavement. Within a few minutes of being outside we were completely drenched, ducking under trees, and whatever shelter nature had to offer.
“Fuck.” he mutters through his chattering teeth. Days like these in Arizona tend to be extreme- one minute it was scorching hot, but when it rained, it would be freezing.
“Can we run back home?” I ask, squeezing the water out of the corner of my shorts. His condition was worse- those tight jeans were heavy, and stuck to him even more.
“It’s too far.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Let’s coagulate in the cold out here, then.” I tell him, sarcasm in my tone. I knew this wasn’t our fault, but when you’re out in 40F in shorts and a shirt, you tend to become cranky.
John bursts in laughter, clutching his stomach. I, on the other hand, look at him in repugnance, both hands on my hips. “What’s so damn funny, O’Callaghan?”
“You-“ he laughs some more, that I wanted to slap him at the back of the head, “-said ‘coagulate’! Okay, sorry.”
“So, are we gonna head back home or what?”
“My house is nearer, genius.” he says, raising an eyebrow, being the cocky shithead that he is. I simply tilt my head in agreement, and mutually deciding that running was of no use anyways, we walked.
The house was empty, and it was a good thing because we were dripping all over the wooden floors. “We have to fix this before your parents arrive.” I prompt, following him to the bedroom, where he handed me a towel and a dry shirt.
He plays some music- Sean Kingston, to which I started singing along- and laughs some more at me. He makes a quick trip to the bathroom to change into a shirt and track pants. Suddenly, his eyes land on me- and my white shirt. Naturally, it clung to my body like plastic wrap, and my hot pink bra could be seen, by him.
I blush at the awkwardness of the situation, but there seemed no repulsion from his side. “You’re-“
“I know, sorry.” I say in an attempt to dismiss the feelings I had. This was like an epiphany to both of us- realizing who we were. In front of me was not John, my best friend; instead, he was just a boy, the boy.
“Just, fuck, you know? I see you in another way now.”
“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”
He nibbled his lip in that adorable way that made me want to give him a hug, but I was afraid of what would happen if I did. Thankfully, he took care of the uncertainty. Without another word, he inched closer to me, in small, unsure steps. I was breathing twice as fast, and more as he took my hands in his.
“I can understand if you’ll hate me for this.” he declares, then, leans in and kisses me.
I’ve kissed boys before, but with him I felt like it was my first time again, only minus that inept feeling. Tingles coursed through my body when he placed a hand at the small of my back and aggressively pulled me closer to him.
Warmth spread all over me, even through my wet clothes. It was a nice, comfortable feeling- that of being wanted; being the girl he paid full attention to at that moment. As the kiss deepened, I find myself on my toes, and just giving it my all.
Feeling a little bold, I bit his lip gently- just the right pressure to make him involuntarily groan, and squeeze me tighter. But, like the best of the best moments, something had to ruin it. In our case, my stomach decides to grumble. Loudly.
John pulls away and chuckles. “Get dressed, I’ll make us something.”
I emerge in one of his shirts and a pair of boxers, barefoot, and a stupid smile on my face. The hunger pains remain, especially when the smell of fresh blueberry waffles waft through the air. “You really are something, John.”
He grins at me proudly in a ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron.
We eat in silence, and then I help him wash the dishes. I should be exhausted, but the adrenaline rush kept me going. As soon as I dry my hands off, he mounts me near the sink, and our lips connect again.
The kisses got better each time.
I feel more connected to him, than I’d ever thought possible. It felt like I know everything about him, but this was from a new perspective. From this night, nothing would ever be predictable for us again.
“I’m scared of tomorrow.” I admit, tracing random patterns on his arm. We were now slung on the red velvet couch in a tangled heap of limbs. “Where do we go from here?”
“I have no fuckin’ idea.” he answers, shrugging. “All I know is that I like you a lot, Iz.”
“Then what the hell are we going to do?”
He sighs. “Give me a chance to get to know you- I mean, I’ve known you since birth, but I want to get to know you this way- fuckin’ hell, I don’t make sense, do I?”
I shake my head in mock disappointment. “I get it. This is new to me, too.”
Needless to say, we didn’t even sleep that night- because we didn’t want it to end. I was horrified of the morning, when we’d wake and realize that everything had been a mistake.
Or maybe it was the start of something great.
♠ ♠ ♠
Flashbackkkk like whoa.It's funny, 'cause I've got EVERYTHING planned for this story.
Yeah, even the sequel.
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