Wake up Under the Sun

John and I were sitting with Kaden in a nice little café for lunch. I was getting used to our lunches and I tried not to think about how empty it would feel once John was away on tour. Kaden’s excitement helped keep my mind off it.

But he still wasn’t showing any signs of talking soon, even as the three of us sat around in his room later that day while mom and dad went shopping. We built lego buildings and played with his hot wheels on the rug that looked like a little town. We played with those stupid toys that don’t tip over – Weebles? – and we read books about puppies and bears. We did all of these exciting things and there was no hint at forming a single word.

It was a weird relief when he finally fell asleep. I sat in the middle of his floor for a while, surrounded by all of the toys we were just playing with, as John placed The Poky Little Puppy back on the bookshelf.

“I was going to suggest we play hide and seek next, but he fell asleep,” John sadly said.

I looked up at him and then closed my eyes. I smiled as I slowly started to count out loud. “Really?” he asked excitedly, and my response was the number five. I heard his feet carry him out of the room and down the hall.

I gave him until 25 to find a decent hiding spot before I pushed myself up from the floor. I checked all of the best spots first: in the kitchen pantry, behind the couch, in the downstairs bathroom no one but guests used. He was in none of them. Then, as I stood at the bottom of the staircase, I heard it; the floorboards creaked from above me and I regretted starting this game. I knew exactly where he was.

I quietly climbed the stairs, tiptoed my way down the hall, and slipped into my old bedroom. He wasn’t hiding behind the long, flowing blue curtains and he wasn’t under the bed; he wasn’t wedged between the bookcase and the wall, either. I hesitated when I caught sight of the picture on my desk. And then, like a breaking dam, my eyes took in everything else. Pictures of friends plastered everywhere, posters and travel guides tacked onto the walls; there were memories all over the place.

I sank onto my bed and stared at the poster of Paris in front of me. Accompanying it were Rome and Athens. The Eiffel Tower, the Colosseum, the Parthenon. All wonderful places I would never be able to visit.

I heard the floorboard creak again.

“I found you,” I said into the room but it remained still. I sighed slightly, standing from my bed. It squeaked when I left it. I tugged the sliding closet door open. John was hiding in between some shirts and a few leftover skirts. “Those look good on you.”

“Well, you know,” he chuckled. I stepped out of his way so he could free himself from the cramped quarters. He brought two hangers with him. “Can you wear these tonight?”

He held up a black shirt and a floral skirt. I tilted my head as I contemplated it. I was already dressed for the day; I wasn’t too keen on the idea of changing outfits again. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I thought you’d look good in them. We’re having a farewell party tonight. I know we’ve been to a party every night so far but it’s supposed to be just us guys and our friends.”

I sighed softly, taking the skirt from him. “I guess I’ll change into this.”

As I changed in the bathroom down the hall, I heard my parents downstairs. They were talking about something mom encountered while at work, and it reminded me of old times, when they would both come home after a long day away and all they would talk about at the dinner table would be work this and work that. I eventually faded into the background and they forgot to ask me how my day was, how that chemistry test went, or if I had any plans for the weekend.

John was casually leaning against the wall across from the bathroom when I opened the door. He half-smirked when he eyed up the skirt he had picked, and he chuckled when I hammed it up with a nice little spin to show off.

“Ready to go?” I asked, my hand finding his as we headed downstairs.

“I dunno, are you?” he countered.

I shrugged, “I was thinking we could do something with Lex today. I feel like I’ve become that friend that ditches her best friend because of a boy.”

John was going to respond but my dad spoke before he could. “There you two are. Is Kaden down?”

“Yeah, we were playing all afternoon,” I replied.

Mom eyed John as she finished putting groceries away in the pantry. Dad gave us a playful eye-roll when he noticed the looks she was giving.

“So what are you two kids up to now?” he asked.

“I was thinking we could go to the movies,” John said with a shrug. “It’s really hot outside today.”

Dad nodded in understanding. “Plus you both look like you’ve gotten burned enough to last the season.”

I instinctively looked down at my skin. It was still a reddish color, but not as bright and angry as the day when it happened. John’s skin had already faded into a nice, even tan. I looked at dad again and he was smiling.

“You go have fun,” he urged.

John squeezed my hand. “We’ll pick up Lex on the way.”

I nodded, said goodbye to my parents, and we were gone. Lex was surprisingly still asleep when we got to the house.

“Lex?” I asked softly as I shook her shoulder to wake her.

“Hmm?” she mumbled into her pillow, hugging it tighter.

“Do you want to go to the movies with John and me?”

She shook her head slightly. “I can’t. I have to work today at four.”

I looked at her alarm clock. It was getting close to 2:45. “Well, consider this your wakeup call. It’s almost 3.”

“Why are you still sleeping?” John laughed from the doorway.

“Go away, O’Callaghan,” she grumbled and disappeared under her blankets. I poked the mass of blankets and heard a little giggle escape. “I was up late Skyping with Loren, okay? I closed at work, then I came home and stayed up late on Skype.”

John chuckled, causing Lex to hurl her pillow at him. He tossed the pillow back into her bed. “Well, when you get off of work tonight, come by Kennedy’s house. We’re having the tour kickoff party.”

Lex mumbled a response neither of us could hear but decided it was a ‘please let me go back to sleep’ mumble. We left the house and headed for the movie theater. We saw a movie both of us had seen before and we were the only people there, allowing us to quote lines and laugh loudly at the jokes in it.

We spent the rest of the day in and out of bookshops and record stores. We held hands as if he wasn’t leaving tomorrow afternoon and we laughed at stupid book titles together and he bought me some of his favorite records to listen to while he was away, so I’d feel like he was still there beside me. We walked the streets of downtown, hands clasped, lips meeting every few steps.

And soon enough, it was dark outside and we were heading to Kennedy’s to hang out with everyone before the actual party began. His parents were conveniently out of town until tomorrow when the band was scheduled to leave, so everyone cracked open beers seconds after walking into the house, and John was, yet again, the master drink maker for us.

The boys talked about their tour schedules and how busy they were going to be from now until the fall. They didn’t seem to be bothered by the complexity of it; in fact, they were rather enthused. It seemed like they were bored at home with nothing to do. Hours went by, consumed by sharing funny tour stories and backstage bloopers. It was creeping up on 10 when the house started to fill with others I’d come to recognize from the other parties I had been to. Friends of the guys, friends of friends, and eventually strangers started filtered in.

I had lost count of the number of drinks I’d had when I heard a voice from behind me. “So,” they said, to which I turned around. “Are you nervous that John’s leaving? He’s going to be surrounded by girls throwing themselves at him every day.”

“Nervous?” I asked cluelessly.

“Because of his rep.”

I blinked a few extra times to clear my eyes. Had I ever seen this girl before? “What – What are you talking about?”

I felt someone’s hand grab onto mine and I was being yanked away from her. Who was that? How did she know me?

“Don’t pay attention to her,” John said.

“Who was that?” I asked, taking my hand away from him. “And why should I be nervous?”

John shook his head, handing me another drink as he took a sip from his own cup. “She’s this girl from school. She’s just.. She’s bad news.”

I could feel my temper slipping because of the alcohol. “No, really,” I continued.

“You want the whole story, Delaney?” he asked, aggravation in his voice. Neither of us were good at holding tempers, obviously. I stared at him. He anxiously ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes shining in the dim living room light. “Fuck. Fuck, okay. We dated in college. For, like, one week until I realized she was a crazy psycho bitch and broke up with her. She would call me all the time, at all hours of the night, asking if I was with another girl. Like, okay, I dated around in high school – she knew that, because we went to the same school - but fuck, Delaney. She’s just bad news, okay? So don’t pay attention to her.”

So when that girl said his rep – she meant he was a manwhore? Maybe that was something to worry about, but all I could wrap my head around was that he mentioned college. “You went to college? Aren’t you my age?”

John’s face fell at my words, he looked confused. Then, he laughed. “Really? All you care about is the fact that I went to college?”

“You went to college?” I repeated.

John laughed again and leaned down to kiss me. One of his hands tangled in my hair, resting at the back of my neck, and I stepped closer to him. “For a year,” he said when he pulled away slightly. “I dropped out to be in the band full time.”

I nodded. That was understandable. He’s good at what he does; I couldn’t blame him for not wanting to waste time in school. “I like when you use my full name. But only when we’re drunk because I like my nickname too.”

He laughed again, his hand lacing with mine. A few more drinks were downed before the room started spinning. The music was too loud, there were too many people, and I needed to find a place to sit down before my stomach contents found their way up.

I mentioned to John about finding a bathroom before I stumbled off down a hallway. There was a line for the bathroom and I whined slightly, leaning against the wall. In 15 minutes, the line only moved two steps forward and I figured the people using the bathroom had the same idea in mind: find a place to sit and relax for two minutes. John’s arms encircled my waist from behind.

“Follow me,” he whispered in my ear, pulling me from the line. I swallowed hard as he tugged me up the stairs.

The music became softer and there were no people up here, for which I was grateful. I didn’t even realize I was being pulled into a spare room until I noticed the plain walls and lace bed covers. I didn’t care about the pattern of the blanket and sat down on the edge of the bed. I exhaled deeply as John disappeared into the adjacent bathroom. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, but apparently that few seconds was only in drunk-time because the next thing I know, John is pulling me up from the bed and suddenly my back was against the wall.

His lips moved forcefully against mine. His hands were everywhere; on my neck, my cheeks, in my hair, on my hips, and, once again, up my shirt. I turned my head, our lips breaking apart.

“Why do guys like boobs so much?” I asked, looking down at his hands.

“Delaney,” he laughed, his hands falling from my breasts to my stomach. “I dunno. Really?”

“I mean,” I giggled, “it’s not like this is your first time feeling mine up in a 24 hour timeframe.”

John’s eyes pierced through mine, then his lips gingerly kissed at my neck. His hands pushed my shirt up just below my bra and his lips left my neck and found their way to my stomach. My breathing hitched when he kissed along my ribs and my heartbeat picked up pace as he slowly left kisses down to my bellybutton. His hands gripped at my hips, holding me in place, and his lips left my skin yet again. I had no idea where this was going or why he suddenly started this – but it felt like a game of chicken and I was losing.

I looked down at him, now on his knees in front of me, and he looked up at me with a smirk. I exhaled shakily when his lips brushed against my knee, and then inched upward. As he kissed the inside of my thigh, I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes.

“Fuck,” I whispered. My hands were shaking, my head was spinning, and I could feel my legs turning into jell-o. His grip tightened against my hips, holding me steady against the wall. “God damnit.”

John laughed against my thigh. “Should I stop?”

I couldn’t form coherent thoughts, let alone voice my concerns properly, but I tried my best at it. “No – but I don’t want to do this here.”

“Why?” he asked. His breath hitting against my thigh caused me to shiver.

“Not- not at Kenny’s house,” I managed to get out.

“I dunno if I can drive,” he muttered. “We’ve both had a lot tonight.”

“I can’t do this at Kennedy’s house,” I said again.

He stood up, his hand grabbing for mine, and we were practically running people over as we left; downstairs, through the crowds, and outside within seconds. We were stumbling quickly down the road, and I giggled when I realized we weren’t the only couple leaving the party in a rush. I’m sure, though, there were couples hidden all over the place in the house, doing a lot more than what we were just doing.

It felt like forever and I was sure we had gotten lost, but two blocks later we were tripping up the sidewalk to John’s front door. He fished his keys from his pocket, but before he unlocked the door, his hands found my waist and his lips were sloppily attached to mine. He broke away unexpectedly and opened the front door.

I wasn’t sure how far this would go as John pulled me up the stairs but when he stopped halfway to kiss me, I stopped worrying about it. We stumbled to his room and after he closed the door, his lips were on mine again. We were both drunk, really drunk, but I wasn’t surprised when he started walking toward the bed, pushing me along as he did so. I especially wasn’t surprised when I fell onto his bed.

I stared up at him. His green eyes were wide, bloodshot and eager. I scooted around on his bed so I was laying the right way, with my head on his pillows, and he crawled up toward me. My heart was throbbing in my chest.

His warm fingers brushed against my stomach as he gingerly tugged my shirt off, dropped it to the side and stared at me. I don’t remember who made the next move but it seemed like after I blinked, we were both down to nothing.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked in my ear. His voice was low and concerned and genuinely intimate. I meekly nodded and he shuffled around for a few minutes. I closed my eyes when he wasn’t looking, working my hardest to keep myself sane. “Okay. Okay. Just – just tell me to stop whenever.”

He kissed me so hard I could feel my head spinning. I tangled my hands in his messy hair and whimpered when I felt pressure overcome me. He placed his hands on either side of my head and lowered his body so he was inches from lying down on top of me completely.

It felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside out. My organs were burning and I couldn’t even breathe without wanting to shake and scream. He asked me if I was okay but if I couldn’t breathe without being in pain, how could I answer?

Everything was on fire. My muscles ached and tensed, even as John gently caressed my skin to calm me. All I knew was that I wanted it all to end, that this was one of the worst decisions I’ve made to date; I wasn’t ready and it hurt too much. None of this was what I thought it was going to be.

I wasn’t sure how long the pain went on but I was gathering my energy to tell him to stop when all of a sudden, the ripping and burning was gone. It all ceased to exist; my muscles relaxed and I could breathe easy. I felt – well, I felt good.

But then I started to cry. The tears built up in my eyes and the haze took over and I couldn’t believe this was happening now. I was crying right now, in the middle of the first time – the real first time, the one you can never get back – and I was scared. I was drunk and for some unknown reason I was petrified.

“Delaney,” he whispered, a tone of guilt and sadness laced in his voice. I had never heard him sound so sincere and it only caused more tears to well up.

I shook my head. “I’m okay.”

He stopped anyway, despite my voice-cracked reassurance. Everything was completely gone now – the pain, the pleasure – and he shifted over to the space next to me. His long arms wrapped around me so he could pull me close to him. I covered my face with my hands, pressing myself into his chest, and the tears fell without any more warning. I couldn’t stop, even when I started to shake and sob.

I expected John to get fed up with me in his drunken state and leave me to cry alone in his bed, but he only held me closer and tighter. He whispered in my ear things I didn’t really hear – I had tuned everything out by now.

“Sorry,” I choked a bit later. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

He kissed my forehead softly before he carefully let go of me and climbed out of bed. He pulled on a pair of boxers, and grabbed a pair of sweatpants out of a drawer. He picked up his shirt from the floor and handed it and the sweatpants to me.

“It’s okay, Delaney,” he said softly as I took the clothes from him and re-dressed.

“N-No,” I stammered. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, my watery eyes meeting his. He had definitely sobered up, and so had I. “I wasn’t crying be-because of anything you did. I just – I panicked.”

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me into the blankets and sheets. He pulled the comforter over us, drying my cheeks once we were safely hidden from the world. We were silently staring at each other as John’s hands slowly, softly explored my skin, innocently, of course, almost afraid that I’d start crying again. His fingers traced my eyebrows, cheekbones and over my lips.

“What made you panic?” he asked softly, concern in his eyes.

“Um, it’s kind of dumb now,” I mumbled, looking down.

“Delaney,” he said, tilting my chin upward. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, that much was clear.

“Earlier, at the party, it hit me that, you know, when I’m around you there’s this wall that comes up. But it’s a good wall. My eyes get hazy and my thoughts get clouded, and that wall is blocking all logical thought from getting to me. I lose all inhibition when I’m with you,” I explained and paused to swallow hard. His eyes weren’t budging from mine; he knew there was more. “I kind of panicked because of that. I mean, when we were kissing at Kennedy’s house and then you were kissing the inside of my thigh – I just didn’t care. I should have been so nervous and awkward, but it felt right and I wanted you to continue whatever you had in mind. And then just now, even though I’m so completely open with you and relaxed around you, I panicked about losing my virginity – because, well, it’s gone now and I can never get it back. But what I’m saying is, I’m scared of how quickly I’m changing.”

“And you’re sure I’m the one that does this to you?” he questioned, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

What did he mean, was I sure it was him? It definitely wasn’t anyone else kissing me and giving me chills and causing my head to spin. It definitely wasn’t anyone else I was doing these sexual things with.

“Who else would it be?” I countered, matching his curious tone.

John smiled. “I meant you. Are you sure you’re not the one doing this to yourself? I mean, I’ll take the credit, Lane, if you want me to, but I think maybe you’re breaking out of your shell because you’re finally comfortable with yourself. You’re home, Lane, and you have good friends and you’re building up your family life again. You have me, and I have you, and there’s no denying that we’re something special – even I can see that, and I tend to turn my cheek to relationships if they get too serious too fast. But I like this, and I like us, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“It’s you,” I concluded.

He scooted even closer to me and his lips ghosted against mine. “Okay, fine. I’ll take the credit.”