That Summer

The late August sun beat down on Evangeline uncomfortably as she shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. The flip-flips on her feet were a bit too large, and her jeans still hung loosely from her hips, as did her tee shirt from her body.

Just as the melodic chiming of the bell came to an end, the incessant barking of what sounded like a small dog erupted from the other side of the door, followed by the sounds of small paws and nails on wood flooring. Footsteps quickly followed the dog and the door swung open to reveal a tall, tanned boy with brown hair and brown eyes, laughing slightly and holding a small Teacup Terrier in his arms. When his eyes fell on the girl standing before him, however, his face dropped.

"Hey, Evangeline," he said somewhat softly.
"Hi, Joe," she murmured in response. They'd not seen each other for a long time so to say that Joe was surprised is an understatement.
"So, uh, what are you doing here?" he questioned as his eyes took in her shrunken frame, obviously worried about her health.
"Is Paul home?" Evangeline questioned
"Uh, yeah," he answered unsurely. "Come on in."

Evangeline followed Paul's brother into the house, taking the liberty to glance around. Everything looked exactly the same as it used to when Mrs. Donahue asked the DiGiovannis to baby-sit the children. The walls were still sage, the floor was still a nicely finished wood, and the air still lightly smelled as if someone had recently cleaned with a dryer sheet.

"He's up in the laundry room," Joe cut into Evangeline's thoughts. "You remember where that is, right?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "Thanks, Joe."
"No problem," he responded easily, but his eyes gave him away - just as Paul's so often did - and Evangeline knew he was still confused and somewhat worried.

She turned and started up the wooden steps, the sounds of The Get Up Kids getting louder as she went. When Evangeline reached the landing, she turned to face the hallway. She could see Paul's bedroom door almost closed, undoubtedly where the music was coming from and light was spilling out of where Evangeline remembered the laundry room to be.

She walked forward and came to a stop in front of the open doorway. Evangeline was about to speak, to let Paul know she was there, until her eyes fell upon the scene before her.

Paul was in the laundry room, the washing machine humming in front of him as he folded clothing. All of this was normal, until Evangeline's mind registered the fact that Paul was very much shirtless in only a pair of jeans. Her throat suddenly went dry, even as her mouth was held open as if to speak. Blue eyes grew wide in shock and, yet, at the same time she felt something stirring in the bottom of her stomach; like a warm, uncoiling snake.

Paul turned around to grab a laundry basket when his eyes caught sight of the girl gawking at him. He jumped and let out a curse, pulling Evangeline out of her state of awe. She cleared her throat, trying desperately to pull her eyes from his long, tan torso.

"Sorry, I just-" Evangeline cut herself off and cleared her throat again. "Joe told me to come up."
"It's okay, you just scared me," Paul shrugged, grabbing a shirt from the pile he'd just folded and pulling it over his head. Evangeline felt her stomach drop now that his skin was covered but she forced herself to ignore the unfamiliar feelings. "So, what are you doing here?"
"Oh," she shook her head in attempt to collect her thoughts. "I just wanted to tell you that I accept your apology." She watched him for a reaction with her chin high, but his face only seemed blank, somewhat confused, until she supplemented, "From yesterday. At my house."
"Oh," Paul nodded.
"It's just that a lot has happened this summer, Paul, and-" Evangeline began but Paul cut her off, placing his hand to her arm gently.
"Do you want to go talk in my room?" he questioned, somewhat quietly, as if his brother could hear them from downstairs.
"Yeah," she nodded, but she wasn't really paying attention. Her eyes were glued on Paul's large hand as it rested on her; her skin burning wherever he touched her.

Paul's hand slipped from her arm and he walked towards his room. Evangeline followed him noticing how cold she suddenly felt without his touch. She didn't like this, didn't like it at all.

He was making her feel off, uncomfortable. He was making her thoughts hazy and her limbs turn into jelly. Evangeline had never felt like this before, almost constricted like she couldn't breathe.

The Get Up Kids CD was in the middle of Close To Home when the teenagers entered Paul's bedroom. Evangeline found his floor to be oddly free of clothes, most likely due to him doing his wash, but everything else seemed standard. He had three guitars leaned up against the wall opposite his unmade bed, guitar picks were scattered every which way and posters promoting various bands plastered his dark green walls. Paul turned to face Evangeline and leant up against his unorganized desk, motioning for her to take a seat on his bed.

"So, what were you saying?" he questioned once the blonde had settled on his mattress opposite him.
"Well, things have been crazy this summer, you know?" Evangeline began. She let out a sigh, obviously very unused to having to be honest with anyone in a way that showed her to be less than completely confident. "I'm just really sorry for how I've been acting. I'm just really confused and sick and..." she trailed off. "I'm kind of a bitch."
Paul let out a laugh and bobbed his head softly, "Yeah you kind of are. But I've known that for a while, Evan."

Evangeline smiled at the nickname, the newly familiar feeling of the warm snake in her stomach uncoiling again. Then a new realization overcame Evangeline; aside from her newfound need for Paul as a support she realized that she had a need for Paul in another way. That her weakened limbs and confused mind and aching chest were all symptoms of infatuation. And that this slithering snake in the deepest recesses of her stomach was lust - a feeling she'd never before experienced, at least not like this. Not to this extent. It was a nagging in her mind before, maybe, but it never took over her body before; never ignited through her veins. She wondered for a moment if this is how it was for everyone.

Paul reached to a shelf above the desk to straighten out a swimming trophy and in doing this his slim fitting shirt rode up, exposing the hip bone that was left above his tight jeans - those jeans that Evangeline so hated - and suddenly the snake exploded into a swarm of butterflies.

Evangeline jumped from her seat on the bed, instead choosing to pace on the carpet in attempt to beat the butterflies back.

"Are you okay?" Paul questioned, taking notice of her sudden change in behavior. Paul had never seen her act like this; it was just so out of character. She'd never looked anything but calm, cool, collected and sometimes angry. She'd never been nervous before or confused. It was a new experience for Paul, like the night Evangeline broke into sobs in his arms.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she murmured, but it didn't sound very convincing.
"Sit down," he suggested softly, grasping her wrist in his hand gently. Evangeline's skin exploded in flame again and she pulled away from him in alarm. Paul was taken aback and he recoiled. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you? I didn't think I grasped that hard-"
"No, you didn't hurt me," Evangeline whispered. Her breath had escaped her again as she stared up into Paul's big, brown eyes. She tried to convince herself that this wasn't because of him, that he didn't make her feel flustered or warm or absolutely atomic.
"Evan, are you sure you're alright?"
"No, I'm not alright," she shook her head.
"I can go get you some water?" he suggested.
"No, no water," she refused.
"Can you breathe? You seem sort of faint," Paul stepped forward as if to catch Evangeline if she fell. But her head started whirring and her heart turned into dynamite, her veins just the lit fuse. "Seriously, are you-"

But Paul didn't get to finish was he was going to say, because Evangeline was kissing him.