Stage Five

Joanna could tell it was getting late by the time she finally laid the controller back on the coffee table. Her glass of water sat untouched a few inches away; all the ice had melted and its glass surface was slick with condensation. She lifted it and took a sip as she picked up her phone.

“It’s almost midnight,” she laughed, surprised that they’d been playing for almost two hours. If she would have known she’d be spending this much time here, she would have at least worn more comfortable clothes. But that’s the thing - she hadn’t expected to spend any time here at all.

“Is that your curfew?” Sidney asked. He didn’t sound like he was being sarcastic this time.

Joanna shook her head. “I don’t really have a curfew,” she said, feeling Sidney’s eyes on her as she spoke. “My parents are out of town. I kind of have free reign of my life for the night.”

Sidney set his own controller down. “And you’re here?” He said it as if it were the lamest thing on earth, spending your night with hockey’s finest.

She shrugged. “Think about it,” she explained, “I’m at some guy’s house late on a Friday night while my parents think I’m safe at home alone doing math homework.” She took another sip of her water. “That sounds like a pretty solid teen-flick storyline to me.”

“Not if all they do is play video games the whole time,” Sidney added, propping his arm on the back of the couch as a smile worked his lips upward. Amusement was evident in his expression now. “That’ll lose viewers pretty fast if you ask me.”

“Hey,” she scloded, hiding her smile behind the rim of her water, “This is my movie - I’ll write it how I want!” She took another sip, slower this time, while maintaining eye contact.

His eyebrow raised at her. “Then what comes next?”

Uh oh.

Joanna could feel her heart rate accelerate, could feel that nervous pit settle somewhere in her stomach. What comes next? And why did he have to leave it to her to decide? She knew how it should go: “This is the part where I grab my keys and jacket and go home and sleep because deep down I know better than hitting on a much older man while in his house and-”

She cut off before her better self could sound any more pathetic. Why not take the chance while it was there for grabs? No one would know. No one was looking.

His long, strong arm caught in her peripheral vision - casually hung across the back of the couch, leaving his body open and welcoming to her. Do it, she dared herself. Just do it.

And so she did. Before her better self could retake control, she leaned forward. Her hand pressed into the couch cushion - just between his knees - for support and she leaned forward into him, closing the already limited distance between them with her own doing. She quietly hoped the string of baffled cusses running loose in her mind weren’t relevant on her face as she made that one last second of eye contact before her eyelids fluttered shut. Was that shock in his eyes? Probably, but she tried not to dwell on it much.

Everything went still as their lips first made contact. Like neither of them knew exactly knew how to react to this. And then - miraculously, incredibly - his lips moved against hers. Slowly and cautiously at first, as if asking for permission to go on. She eagerly gave him that permission, walking the fine line between innocence and some form of lust. And just as she could feel things pick up, she pulled back.

It took her a moment to grasp back onto reality. “That’s how you keep the viewers,” she said cleverly, she thought, in spite of herself. A smile tugged at her tingling lips, and she was happy to see one on his, too.

The shock was still there on his face, though, like he was trying to decide if that had really happened or not. Hell, she was still trying to decide the same.

Slowly, his smile faltered, and for a moment she thought she’d made a horrible mistake. But then his lips parted as he spoke so softly she was sure she had misheard him.

“Then I’m excited to see what the sequel brings.”

---

She left shortly after that. Her hands were shaking so hard that she had to try three times before she could dig her key into her car’s ignition. And even were her car started and shifted into drive, she had to concentrate extra hard on making it home without crashing it up a tree. Nothing about any of that felt real to her right now.

Her first instinct was to call Ariel. Or Jennie. Or someone, at least, so she wouldn’t have to keep this bottled up to herself. And if it weren’t for Sidney’s hurried “Don’t tell anyone” on the way out the door, she just might have. But she couldn’t. Telling someone would jeopardize whatever the hell was going on between them.

And the butterflies running wild in her stomach weren’t about to give whatever it was up just yet.

But what was going on? They’d kissed, sure, and there was definitely something there between them. That didn’t diminish the fact that there was seven years between them, which felt wrong to think about. It didn’t feel like that much of an age gap, especially not when she was kissing him.

Joanna made it home in one piece, but barely. Her legs were still jelly as she fumbled up the steps to her own home and let herself in. The clock on the foyer wall read an accusing 12:30 AM. It certainly didn’t feel like she’d been gone that long.

She climbed the stairs to the second story and targeted the bathroom. A long, hot shower sounded perfectly in order right about now. Quickly, she stripped from her clothes and tossed them down the laundry chute and set her phone on the counter as she turned on the faucet. She didn’t even turn the fan on as she hopped in, letting the steam grow into a thick cloud as the water poured hotly over her.

A half hour had passed before she let herself back out, somehow in the same, dazed state of mind as before. So much for that helping. She grabbed a towel from the rack and secured it around her body. Steam clung to the mirror; she absently wiped a spot clear and peered into it.

Remnants of leftover makeup caked beneath her eyes, but besides that her face was free of any cosmetic assistance. Her long, blonde hair was slicked back with moisture, hanging in heavy strands down her back. She looked so young. Probably because - though she hated admitting it - she was young.

The buzz of a vibration against the hard counter’s surface brought Joanna back to reality. Her eyes caught on her phone, still setting where she had placed it just before her shower. She wiped a hand on her towel before she grabbed it and clicked into her message screen.

When can I see you again?

The message sent another wave of butterflies through her abdomen. She’d almost forgotten exchanging numbers with Sidney as she made her speedy escape. Without second guessing herself, she hit reply.

Soon.