Page 82 of Foolish Games

“Sorry,” he says, giving the couple the polite smile he uses on adults. They mutter to each other and give us dirty looks as Sebastian steers me into the next aisle and starts tickling me.

“Come on,” I say, taking his hand and pulling him toward the door.

“What’s the rush?” he asks. “I still need to find Slumber Party Massacre 2. Now I might never find out if the same hot girls dared to have another slumber party after the first one turned deadly, or if it’s a totally different group of hot girls having pillow fights.”

“Tragic,” I mutter.

“Wouldn’t you be curious?” he asks.

We continue our banter all the way to my car. Since the day he got all possessive when I tried to hang out with Chaz again, thing have settled into a predictable—if something as volatile as our relationship can be called that—routine. Sebastian doesn’t want to ride to school together in the mornings, so we arrive separately. We meet at his locker, which I decorate before each game, just as the other girls do for Billy, Randy, Tommy, Maddox, and the rest of the football players. We keep our public displays of affection to handholding and hugging, both to spare my brother and hide the fact that we do more than that behind closed doors.

I manage to keep Sebastian from dragging me into the AV room each day, though we do meet in the back stairwell to make out, and once, he pushed me into the nook under the stairs and fingered me until I came. Another time, he saw me in the hall while on his way back from the restroom, grabbed me, and pulled me into an empty classroom. There, he dropped to his knees, threw my legs over his shoulders, and brought me to orgasm so quickly it was more terrifying than the knowledge that someone could walk in on us.

He was right about me—I do get off on the public aspect. The fear of being caught is half the thrill. The fact that he knows my body better than I do scares me.

I don’t know what this thing is between us, but I don’t want to bring it up and be the clingy girl who needs to define everything. And if I’m being honest, I don’t want to ruin what we have. I know it’s casual for him, and that it’s not for me. I know it’s going to hurt when it ends, so I put off the ending every time I have the chance. It’s nothing like what I had with Chaz, nothing I imagined I’d ever want. But the sex is so good I’m halfway guilty and halfway afraid of becoming an addict. I know it won’t last, but I remember my grandmother’s advice to have a little fun before college, be a little wild, and I take it.

I admit, it feels good to let go. It’s fun to be with someone so different from me. I’ve always been more cerebral, and I thought that’s what I wanted in a boyfriend. But everything about Sebastian is visceral and physical. He never stops touching me, and when we’re alone, those touches usually lead to one or both of us climaxing.

He’s not just different from me, though. He brings out a different side of me. I used to only feel that thrill of being alive and free when I drove the Corvette. But over the last month, it’s become a regular part of my days. Between his football practices and my extracurriculars, we don’t get to spend every evening together, so we make the most of the time we have and steal moments together if we can’t break away to be together after school.

We sneak out at lunch and park in the most secluded spot we can find before Sebastian pulls me onto his lap, shoves down his jeans, and takes me in the cramped front seat in broad daylight. I never thought I’d be a girl who couldn’t make it through two days without sex, but I crave it every bit as much as he does.

When we don’t sneak off campus, we sit with his football crowd at lunch, and though I don’t fit in with the other football player’s girlfriends, and I don’t care about being popular, I don’t want to be away from Sebastian for that one period of the day when we can be together, since we don’t have any classes together.

When we need an excuse to spend an evening together, we go out so people will see us doing things like a real couple, and Sebastian plies me to eat the junk he does, convincing me to try pepperoni on my pizza and fries dipped in chocolate shake when we go to Boehner’s Burgers, a local place owned by the family of one of Lexi’s friends.

We fly down the highway at a hundred miles per hour with Sebastian’s fingers inside me, sometimes his mouth on me, and by some miracle, make it alive every time. I never thought I’d be a girl who parked at the quarry, or one who loved the dangerous thrill of reaching orgasm at breakneck speeds or sneaking back into town after city curfew.

We stop to fill up at a gas station one night, and Sebastian goes in to pay and comes back with a pair of red plastic sunglasses with heart shaped frames. They’re tacky and cheap and everything my family would hate. I love them more than my pair from Chanel.

Sebastian gets a pair with star frames for himself, and once we’re both laughing at how ridiculous we look, he switches off my Dixie Chicks CD and turns on the radio, whooping when the dial reaches a song he likes. He turns it back to get a clear signal, then throws open the door, runs around, and drags me out of the car to dance with him right there in the parking lot, blasting the Rolling Stones from my speakers.

“What is this grandpa music?” I ask through my laughter.

“You mean classic,” he says. “This shit’s stood the test of time. No one’s going to remember Garth Brooks in twenty years.”

I draw back. “You don’t like my music?”

“Of course I do,” he says, twirling me around and then bringing my body close. “It’s just kinda… Sad. Life’s sad enough, isn’t it? I like music that makes me happy. Semisonic and the Offspring and don’t tell my sister, but the Spice Girls are kinda bangin.’ Still doesn’t mean anyone’s going to remember them.”

“You’re going to feel so dumb in twenty years.”

He frowns. “You think any of those artists will be around when our kids are dancing in parking lots?”

“We’ll be listening to it,” I point out. “Just like the only people who listen to this are our parents.”

“We’re listening to it right now,” he says, flattening his hand on my lower back and pulling me in for a long, lingering kiss in front of the gas station just as Keisha and Scarlet emerge, slushies in hand.

“Be glad you’re dating a jock now,” Scarlet says to me. “Otherwise I’d be tempted to throw my slushie in your face, nerd.”

Keisha just shakes her head. “Anyone dumb enough to date Sebastian deserves to get played,” she says, heading for her Neon with Scarlet following on her heel like a loyal puppy.

“Don’t listen to them,” Sebastian says, holding out a hand and helping me into the Corvette. “They’re just jealous that you get to keep me.” He leans down and presses a kiss to my lips, giving me a wicked grin when he pulls back. “Are they looking?”

I glance past him and nod, annoyed at people from school for interrupting, even though this whole thing is for their benefit in the first place.

He gives me another lingering kiss that makes my toes curl before closing the door and jogging around the car to hop into the passenger seat. I hate how good he is at this, how he remembers it’s a game even when I’ve forgotten. I turn my CD on again and pull out of the lot, trying to forget the intrusion of reality into our world of blissful make believe. I want to ask what he meant by saying I get to keep him. Does that mean they didn’t, that he’s been with both those girls? But I don’t really want the answer. Considering they’re cheerleaders, I pretty much already know.

---