To Be Alone With You

Things between me, John and Casey were uncomfortable as we danced around the topic like our feet were on hot coals. But before our relationship completely crumbled before our eyes, we talked things through. I’m the only one for him, he told me. He would follow me to the ends of the Earth. But I still could hear them whispering in the kitchen when I was out of the room and it was beginning to drive me insane.

Days came and went. Casey was accepted at FIDM on a scholarship for merchandising and the whole school was abuzz with the news. There would be exactly 378 miles between us, spanning the entire Yucca Valley – I counted them in my sleep one night awake in my room across the hall. A part of me ached at the thought of being apart from her and the rest of couldn’t wait for her to go. At the dinner my family held in her honor, John winked at her across the table. I didn’t get a dinner in my honor.

On a Friday in March I turned eighteen and John kissed me under the starry desert sky, a vast navy blue ocean, speckled with twinkling little lives. His lips made me infinite, the two of us continuous as a loop. Together, we went on and on; the beginning and the end blurred completely unrecognizable between us.

I prayed on each of his freckles for all of this to go away. For whatever was going on between him and Casey to all be in my head. Things between John and me needed to be okay, things needed to work out for the best between us. We became a living, breathing unit when we were together, and it felt like Casey was driving us apart. Time and time again he told me I was crazy, that I was used to having to share everything with Casey and that this time he was just mine, all mine. Still, I prayed on every star as we drove home.

“There’s a surprise waiting for you at your house,” he told me with a coy smile, turning into my neighborhood. My heart turned at the thought of what could be waiting – surprises had always spooked me. Once, my mother told me there was a surprise at home and to not be worried. The excitement nearly crushed me. But when the surprise turned out to be my father standing in the doorway with all his bags packed, the grief crushed me instead.

The lights were all off in the house, every window dark as could be; I could sense the hollowness as we walked up the front path. I sent John a suspicious glance as he jumped weightlessly up the stairs, holding out his hand for me to hold. And as we walked through the door, instead of turning, my heart leapt.

“Happy birthday!” a crowd called as we entered, the entire house sparking to life right before my eyes.

The lights flicked on to reveal the faces of all my friends collected in the heart of my home. It seemed as though everyone was there – my close friends I’d made over time but also a distinct group of people I’d only been acquainted with. John’s friends. I caught a glimpse of them in the corner, clapping and cheering with noisemakers before scanning the crowd for Casey. I found her clad in a glittery party hat at the very front of the crowd – the light catching each bright fleck and refracting it in just the right way - with the biggest smile I’d ever seen on her face. She and John exchanged a high five.

Suddenly, everything clicked in my head. The whispers, the winks – they’d been trying to plan this for ages without me knowing. “This is what you two have been plotting?” I demanded in disbelief, all the air having gone from my lungs.

“It would have been a lot easier if you hadn’t kept trying to foil our plans, little girl,” Casey teased before wrapping me in an embrace. “Happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday to you,” I replied, hugging tighter than before. She’d sacrificed her day to make this one special for me too. It had always been our day. With the way things had been lately, every day was Casey’s day. I could tell by the look in her eye she wanted today to be my day, too.

“Happy birthday Josselyn!” my closest friend, Annabelle Yocum cried as she attempted to approach me, but suddenly a hand was on my arm, dragging me away from the crowd.

“John! What are you doing?”

He pulled me up the stairs to my room and sat me down on the bed; a mysterious smile perched on his lips at all times. I snarled as he sat down next to me, crossing my arms across my chest.

“Now what are you up to?” I protested. “I’ve had just about enough of you sneaking around – "

He shut me up pretty quickly with the sight of just one envelope, marked with the ASU letterhead and addressed to his name. He placed in my lap, causing my heart to race; my gaze flicked between him and the envelope.

“I don’t mean to make you share, but this party is a little bit of a celebration for us both,” he hummed slyly. “For you, for us, and for the fact that we’re going to be able to be together for as long as we want. At ASU. Because I got in.”

Every other emotion I was feeling at that moment dwindled at the excitement that filled me with his words. I tackled him with a hug, knocking him on his back on the mattress with a hearty laugh. Smothering him with kisses, I held him tighter than I ever knew possible. In that moment, everything was fixed. In that moment, all those clandestine prayers on freckles and stars were answered. They were answered in that big, cardstock envelope from Arizona State that housed John’s acceptance. Because in his acceptance came promise. And with promise came possibility.

“Come on, there’s a party on for you downstairs,” he finally insisted, pressing his open hands on my chest in an effort to get me off him. I wriggled my eyebrows suggestively, causing him to roll his eyes and wiggle his way out from underneath me.

“Easy tiger,” he chided with a wink. “You’ve got me all night. I want to go listen to people celebrate how awesome you are.”

He got up from the bed and went to the door, tugging down on his shirt to pull himself in order for the crowd below. I felt my heartbeat pick up again, having dulled to a soft roar from all the elation. Everything else came flooding back to me all at once.

“John, wait!” I called after him. He turned to face me, all his beautiful glory front and center, just for me. Just like he said. He was mine and I was his.

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

He nodded.

“And thank you. For everything.”

He smiled. And extended his hand for me to take.

“Come on beautiful,” he hummed. “Time to let ‘em see you shine.”

And shine we did.



“Josselyn!” Kennedy called from the kitchen, followed by a spattering of clanging pots and pans. “Hey, I need your help!”

Hopping up from the couch, I trotted into see what he needed – only to find tall, lanky Kennedy buried beneath an avalanche of cookware. I suppressed a laugh before going to his side, aiding him out of all the pots that had fallen on him.

“How do you manage to get yourself into so much trouble, Ken?” I teased, tucking the Calphalon pans back into their rightful place in the cupboard. He beamed up at me as he placed the last one inside and shut the door, holding up the one he’d been looking for – a deep, copper pot with a shiny handled lid.

“All this time I thought you were good luck,” he teased back as he put the pot on the already heated burner. The metal coils glowed red-hot, immediately heating the base of the pot on contact. “Let me teach you something, alright?”

He pulled a bag of corn kernels from the cupboard above the stove, tossing them to me absentmindedly. I almost didn’t catch them, stumbling awkwardly to get my hands around them. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologized with a laugh. “Come here.”

Pouring a little bit of oil in the bottom of the pot, he proceeded to instruct me to peel open the bag and pour a heaping amount of the kernels. Afterwards, he placed the lid back on the lid and gave me a bright smile.

“Can’t you just do popcorn from a bag like a normal person?” I asked lightly, prodding him in the side. He prodded back, pulling me into him in an effort to keep me from struggling against him. I wailed out in protest, fighting furiously as he tickled his fingers against my sides. I brought us to the floor in my fit of crazed laughter, rolling around against him as he taunted me good-naturedly.

Finally, I forced myself from his grasp and crawled away before pulling myself up. I turned around to see his panting breaths matching mine from our fight. His eyes gleamed playfully, arms supporting him on the counter like his body had been packed with sand. I stood cautiously across the kitchen with a smile perched on my lips, ready to fight him off at any costs. He raised his hand and I flinched in return, ready to tickle back. But he shook his head, signaling me all was well.

“No more, no more,” he insisted. The sounds of popping came from the kettle and his face brightened even more, clearly proud of his idea.

“You go get comfy,” he suggested, wiping his hands on the front of his dark wash, stovepipe jeans. “Choose our movie. I’ll be in once this is done.”

I nodded only before lunging at him in a fake-out, causing him to flinch with his hands posed at the ready. “Only joking, Orville Redenbacher,” I badgered with a wink before leaving him in the kitchen and getting settled on the couch. Paging through the Netflix proved to be a greater feat than I’d expected – there were thousands of titles and I didn’t want to pick something out that Kennedy wouldn’t want to watch.

“What are you in the mood for?” I called to him.

“Choose one of your favorites!” he insisted back. I shook my head.

Kennedy had done an excellent job of making me feel as welcome as he possibly could. He respectfully put me up in the guest room, never once insinuating that I should be his cuddle partner by default, just because of his kindness. That alone was enough to make me appreciate him more than ever. With my recent experience with men, it was difficult for me to see them as anything other than creeping, sex crazed pigs.

But everything was different with Kennedy. He was insanely respectful – never too loud in the mornings when he was getting up, always put the seat down in the bathroom we shared – and perpetually interested in me. It was a daily effort on his side to be sure that I was entertained, inviting me with him when he went places, providing me with reading for when I wanted to stay at home, keeping me company at nights when we were both exhausted from the Arizona sun. I fell asleep with my head on his lap some nights watching talk shows, waking up in the morning to the newspaper on the table and coffee brewing in the kitchen.

Needless to say, Kennedy was a dream. Kennedy was a dream and I didn’t know what to do about it.

Finally, I decided on Kate Winslet’s ‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.’ I loved the film ever since I first saw it in middle school and figured that Kennedy would love it too, though it was sometimes difficult to take Jim Carrey seriously. He emerged from the kitchen with a bowl teeming with fresh popped popcorn, drizzled in a light coat of butter and salted just right. I shook my head at him as I took a bite, the morsel melting in my mouth.

“Kennedy,” I breathed.

“Only the best for you, Joss,” he hummed, settling in next to me on the couch. My heart skipped a little beat as he spread a plush blanket across our laps extending his arm for me to curl up next to him. I obliged – how could I resist? – and pressed start on the Netflix cue.

“I love this movie,” Kennedy murmured to me as the title sequence rolled, but I could hardly hear him over the sound of his heartbeat. It was slow and melodic beneath my ear, causing mine to pick up a little bit.

As we ate and watched and our hearts beat together, I felt a little bit of panic bubble in me. Any smart, single girl would die to be curled up next to Kennedy Brock the way I was that night. They wouldn’t be afraid to crawl in bed with him, even if nothing were to happen between them, and just let him hold them all night. They would die at his protective, respectful nature, though it was clear he was bursting at the seams to make his move.

But I was afraid, I was scarred by the advances made by men I’d previously trusted, and worst of all, he was John’s best friend. It wasn’t as easy as pressing my lips against his, letting him wrap his arms around me, and letting it absorb us both. Or was it?

My heart was pounding my the time the movie ended and Kennedy pulled back from me, stretching his arms high above his head. The empty popcorn bowl rested on the table in front of us, me not being able to resist eating it all. Part of me knew it was because it was delicious, but the other part knew it was because Kennedy had made it for me. Sweet, sweet Kennedy.

It wasn’t as easy as just kissing him. It wasn’t that easy. Or was it?

He was looking at me with those beautiful, sleepy bedroom eyes I’d gotten to know so well over the past few days, lips just begging to be kissed. So kiss them I did.

I could feel the shock hit his body as I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips to his. But just as soon as the wave hit him, he melted into me, wrapping his hands up in my hair and running his thumb across my cheek. I let him pull me closer so there was no space left for confusion or anxiety – only space for Kennedy and me. His lips were graceful against mine, still tasting faintly of salt, like they’d been waiting for this moment for a long time and they didn’t want to do anything wrong. Everything was very calculated, and perhaps that’s what made it perfect.

After a moment of letting everything go, I pulled away. He gave me a surprised but pleased smile, his eyes in a blissful daze. I smiled back, a small, quiet smile just for him. Then I pulled myself up from the couch, smoothed out my shirt and turned to face him once more.

“Goodnight, Kennedy.”

And before he could say anything more, I was in the guest bedroom on my bed, wriggling around with schoolgirl-like excitement. Because it was that easy. And it was perfect.