Oh Boy! (BL)

18 - Worn-Out Sneakers (1/3)

When I had learned one thing in the past months, it was that the way a day started didn't tell you anything about how it would end. This morning, I'd vowed to leave the past behind me, to appreciate the people in my life, and to never – never ever – speak to Clay Prescott again.

And now? Now, I was sitting astride Clay on his driver's seat, panting, and moaning, and practically eating his face up. Both of us were drenched, our hearts were still pounding from the angry kisses we'd shared, and none of us could let go. After standing in that alley for who knew how long, Clay had taken my hand and led me back to the parking lot. The moment the doors had closed behind us, and we were alone in the blue sedan I knew so well, nothing could hold us back any longer.

It was risky to do this on the school's parking lot with the final classes nearing their end, but he didn't seem to mind when his mouth found mine again and again. I had no idea what had gotten into him – or me – but with all the emotions that had piled up inside my aching body, kissing the boy I crushed on - who was also the boy I despised, and the boy I was afraid of hurting - was a rather powerful outlet.

It was the ringing of the school chimes that lifted Clay's spell. Freezing in my embrace, he pushed me off his lap and onto the passenger seat and drove off the parking lot before I could buckle up. For fifteen minutes, we were driving through the afternoon traffic; heading left, then right, then North, and back again. I was pretty sure Clay had no idea where he wanted to go until he eventually made a right turn and entered a half-empty parking lot at Walgreens. With a stern gaze, he drove past the few cars in front of the store and squeezed his sedan into a parking lot between two big black pickup trucks at the end of the property.

We had been there for about five minutes in which I watched Clay sitting motionless on the driver seat, staring at the raindrops dancing on the windshield. He hadn't said a word; hadn't explained what had happened mere moments ago; hadn't...

Okay, to be fair, I hadn't spoken up either. Every time I opened my mouth on the verge of saying — yeah, what exactly? — I shut it again so that the silence inside the sedan got heavier and heavier.

To prevent me from constantly staring at the frozen boy next to me, I looked outside the window. The rain made the pedestrians run from one shelter to the other, some entered Walgreens, some left. Some ran to their cars, and others called for a cab.

"Gosh!" I winced when Clay suddenly cursed and ran both hands over his face. "I shouldn't have kissed you!"

Of course...What else had I expected?

My shoulders fell when I looked down on my knees. "It's okay...I..."

"It's not okay!" He punched his steering wheel so hard I was afraid the airbags might burst. "I gave you my word that I wouldn't kiss you again..."

"Then why did you do it?" I whispered.

"Can't you tell?" A gentle hand lifted my chin until I had no choice but to look at him. Clay's hair was messy, a handful of wet strands fell into his forehead, his silver-grey eyes regarded my face with an expression that seemed to say that he'd kiss me again if I wanted him to. "I like you, Ken."

I choked. "But...as a friend, right?"

He blinked. "Does this feel like friendship to you?"

No. No, it did not. Friends didn't caress each other's cheeks the way he did mine. Or looked at each other with longing in their eyes.

So, I just whispered, "No, it does not."

"It does not," he repeated quietly, and his thumb caressed my bottom lip with feather-light strokes. We stayed like this for a long time — me, crouched on the passenger seat looking up at him feeling insecure; he, leaning over the center console while it seemed that his hands never wanted to let me go.

The lights of one of the trucks next to us lit up when a dark-haired woman left Walgreens and approached her car. I didn't know who she was, and she didn't pay any attention to us when she rushed into the driver's seat, but it was the sight of her raven strands that made reality kick in. His hands never wanted to let me go? Well, two weeks ago they had clung to a barely dressed girl while his friends kept on mocking me, and he didn't feel like stopping them. I removed Clay's hands from my face and moved as far as I could back in my seat.

The movement caused Clay's mouth to drop. "You still don't believe me?"

The hurt look in his eyes almost got through to me...almost...

"Don't be ridiculous." I turned my head, so I didn't have to look at him. "How could I ever believe you? I mean...why would you of all people like a nobody like me?"

"What do you mean, me 'of all people'?"

"Are you serious? You're at the top of the popularity scale, and I'm..."

He barged in, "I don't give a damn about being popular, Ken!" The volume of his voice turned down again when he tried to calm his temper. "Right now, all I want is for you to believe me!"

Believe him...

I closed my eyes. "Then what about the party?"

There was a rustle, and I didn't have to look up to know that Clay was either running his hands over his face or through his wet hair. "The party..." The sound he made when he exhaled was a mixture of exhaustion and regret.

"Yeah, the party..." I wouldn't let him off the hook, no matter how much my heart was aching in response to his exhaustion. "You know...I really believed this whole Let's be friends act." I laughed but it was far from happy. "Or maybe I just wanted to believe it, because..." Because I liked being with them; though, I used them as much as they used me to ease their guilt complex. I was such a hypocrite.

I winced when Clay's cold hand reached for mine, but when I tried to free myself, Clay held on tight. "Look at me, Ken."

I hesitated.

"Please."

Protecting myself with an armor to shield my emotions, I slightly turned in his direction and lifted my gaze. Clay's eyes were sad when he looked at me. "Can I tell you a story?"

I narrowed my eyes. "A story about what?"

His hand closed tighter around mine, and I could feel the trembling of his fingers.

"When I fell for you."