Page 70 of The Boys Next Door

Of course Brendan had been the one to teach her how to fold a paper plane, years ago. And Ian had made fun of her first no-fly attempts. But after her planes had flopped a few times, Ian had grabbed one, opened it up, and showed her how to fold it a different way.

Like this, Diana.His total focus had surprised her.Now they’ll fly.Then he’d grinned at her.Not as good as me and Brendan’s, but keep trying.She’d responded by pitching her plane straight at him.

Now, she went over all the creases a second time, pressing the paper until the folds were sharp. Then she scrawledIanon each plane with a ballpoint pen. Climbing on her desk, she tugged open her window and stared down at the O’Brians’ quiet house.

With good aim, the plane in her hand could sail right into the landscaped backyard. Maybe it would land in the pool and her words would dissolve in the water. The tree outside her window whispered gently, but it didn’t tell her anything. The twins’ Jeep was missing from the driveway.

Shaking her head, she clambered off her desk. Then she smoothed all the planes into rumpled paper poems, stuffed them back in her journal, and shoved the cloth-covered book deep in her underwear drawer, next to her graduation speech and the torn panties Ian had ripped off her eager body.

Her parents looked surprised when she came downstairs dragging a sleeping bag, followed by her record player.

“Just feel like sleeping outside,” she mumbled, as she opened the back door.

This hadn’t been a breakup with the twins. Either of them. And there was nothing she needed to talk about with Ian. She certainly didn’t need to fly all her poems into his backyard. She wouldn’t drown her sorrows in the Rocky Road ice cream calling her name from the freezer, while she waited for Brendan to come back and reassure her. She wouldn’t find the graduation night record Ian had put on and play it on repeat until the sun rose. And she definitely wouldn’t keep her head under her pillow.

Whatever else was going on, the familiar ground and soft grass in her backyard were calm. Simple. As the air cooled down, she took off her glasses and snuggled into her sleeping bag. Low music from her turntable unwound into the night, and the endless sky was the last thing she saw before her eyes drifted closed.

Lulled by cricket chirps and the notes of her record, nearly asleep, Diana heard faint splashing on the other side of the fence. Someone was swimming in the O’Brians’ pool. Her eyes half-opened to follow the fuzzed shape of Orion in the sky, imagining one sleek muscular body or the other plowing through the waves.

It was probably just Mr. or Mrs. O’Brian, out for an evening swim. And if a tear slipped down her cheek, it was just in sympathy with the water. But the splashes were there the next night and the next, soon after she turned on her record player, and they comforted her.

*

As for the daytime? The problem with hooking up with the boys next door…was that they lived next door.

Monday morning, between bites of Rice Krispies, she glimpsed Brendan through her kitchen window: strolling down the O’Brians’ driveway, unfairly hot in a button-down shirt and tie, heading to his summer internship. She didn’t wait around to watch Ian emerge a few hours later in athletic shorts and a tank top, off to work at the gym nearby.

Tuesday night, her friends wanted to know why she stopped in the middle of pumping gas and drove her mom’s car away from the station with the tank still half-empty — and hey, wasn’t that one of the O’Brian twins coming out of the mini-mart, snacks in hand, looking all edible? And did the twins ever end up taking her out to celebrate graduation?

“We got ice cream,” Diana said quickly. “Nothing crazy. Very low-key.”

One twin, not two. Brendan, from the quick glimpse she’d gotten of his relaxed walk before she jumped back in the car. He’d spotted her too, opening his mouth to say something, and she had no plans of sticking around to hear it. She cranked up the radio, floored the gas, and tried not to remember Ian doing the same on Saturday night.

Wednesday evening, Mr. and Mrs. O’Brian came over for barbecue on the deck with her parents and Diana was forced to make friendly conversation before she left for a concert. She had to admit — once she’d pulled the pillow off her head on Sunday, she’d been going out. Having fun, even. Spending more time out of her house than in it, getting used to the strange feeling of free time. And it felt good, as long as she didn’t let herself see Ian’s eyes devouring her, or hear Brendan’s coaxing whispers, or or feel them both buried inside her as pleasure and need rocked her body. As long as she forgot that low voice murmuringYou’re beautifulandYou’re perfectandRemember your graduation speech?

But her ears pricked up when the O’Brians mentioned that Ian had been very quiet during the rare times they saw him at home. Of course both the twins were busy with their summer jobs, but this was unusual, and he didn’t even seem to be talking to his brother.

“Brendan’s always been the one person Ian listens to.” Mrs. O’Brian heaved a long-suffering sigh. “If we need to get anything across to Ian, we go through Brendan.” She shook her head. “I swear, his brother’s the only reason Ian isn’t wilder than he is.”

“Diana?” Her father frowned in her direction. “Do you have something in your throat?”

“No, no,” she coughed. “I better go.”

Hurrying out the door, she stopped herself from asking questions. But over the pounding music at the concert, and the dancing she was actually doing with her friends, she couldn’t stop remembering that even though she’d called Ian a slut, the only person he’d touched on Saturday night had been her.

That night, she did bring her dildo out to the backyard. Bass still hummed through her veins. Through every twist of her hips at the concert, she’d felt Ian’s hard chest brush against her breasts, Brendan’s hard cock press against her ass.

Yes…she was peeling off her sweaty dress, sighing with relief as she freed her full breasts from her lacy bra and massaged the sensitive curves under the open sky. And oh God, it felt so good to work the dildo into her waiting pussy, stroking her clit as she got wetter and more excited and the night air caressed her naked body.

Ian was spanking her, every smack of his big hand making her soft cheeks ripple. Brendan was whispering that she needed to face the world as he anchored her in a strange bed, four pairs of eyes and hands on her. Sweet Jesus, she was opening her lips to Ian as he put a mystery candy on her tongue, ready to follow him anywhere, trusting him and Brendan completely…she was tangled up with two muscled bodies in the treehouse as knowing fingers explored her pussy for the first time…she was alone with Ian in her bed, vulnerable but safe in his arms as they fell asleep together…oh God, she was so confused. She was so turned on.

She could only hope the music from her turntable hid her moans. As the splashes in the O’Brians’ pool sent tingles through her body, her pussy convulsed tightly around the dildo, hugging its roundness in a long shuddering orgasm.

Thursday afternoon found Diana standing at the front desk of the gym near her house, talking about classes and drop-in fees and whatever the hell else you discussed at a gym front desk while she peered over the receptionist’s shoulder at the machines and weights like the stalker she was.

There wasn’t any mistaking the sculpted slope of Ian’s back as he bent over a female body on the floor, spotting her through a series of weight lifts. The casual play of his muscles and his obvious focus made Diana’s stomach clench. Of course he was working with a cute girl, but from what she could see, Ian didn’t crack a smile, though the girl offered him plenty. No dimples, no flirting, nothing but business.

She could be bold, right? The word “gym” didn’t need to launch a panic attack any more. She wasn’t a kid, and no one was laughing at her.After everything she’d done with the twins, it wouldn’t be a big deal to bike home, wriggle into the only shorts she owned — a red satin thrifted pair that said St. Xavier High School on the side and that she never, ever wore outside the house — stroll back into the gym like she actually knew what those machines did, and inform Ian she wanted a little personal training. And then — oh fuck, what the hell then?

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