Page 17 of Marked By The Kings

Holy’s jaw tightens as he clenches the muscle. “It’s complicated, Danielle.”

I don’t correct him this time; there’s no need. His tone is intimate, unlike the nature of our relationship. “Either you want me, or you don’t. But if you do, I don’t want to see you flirting with my dance teacher in the lunchroom.”

He opens his mouth to respond and then closes it quickly. A frown crops up on his face as he tries to recall what I’m talking about. “Miss Rae?” Holy asks, confused. “I wasn’t flirting with Miss Rae.”

“Well, Jennifer was flirting with you,” I reply stubbornly. I know what flirtation looks like, and she was practically throwing herself at him.

“Whatever,” he huffs. “It doesn’t matter whatshewas doing. I’m telling you whatIwas doing. And I was just talking to her like I would anyone else.”

A childish outburst explodes from my chest before I can stop it. “Okay, sure. But you don’t look at me like you look at her.”

Holy slams his fist down on the desk. He’s so fast that I hear the sound before I realize what he’s doing. “Damn it, Danielle. This is why we can’t do this. You’re in high school, you’re so young, and you jump to conclusions instead of talking to me.”

I hate the reminder of my age; it shames me. “I know.” But I admit, he’s right.

He wants to keep raging, but my admittance cools his anger. He curls his fingers around the edge of the desk, and his knuckles turn white. “It should be simple to say that I like you and want you. I shouldn’t have to fight a war with myself on propriety every time I look at you,” Holy says with a sigh. A dejected look takes over his features.

My heart swells with newfound information. “You like me?” God, I sound as young as he accuses me of being.

But Holy isn’t quite as bothered anymore; maybe it’s because I’m not pulling childish antics in the process. “Yes. I think you’re gorgeous, Dani. You’re smart, and you’re kind. You do a hell of a job making my nights easier by grading four of my five classes’ worth of homework before the final bell for the day rings. It’d be hard not to like you. But I don’t know what to do about it. Or if I should do anything about it.” The stern look on his face is in direct contrast with his words.

Maybe there’s a chance for us after all. “Take me for a ride.” I bite my bottom lip anxiously.

Holy meets my eyes with confusion. “What?” He’s visibly shaken.

“All of our interactions are here at school. That’s what’s causing the conflict in your mind,” I explain, and he nods in agreement. “I’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle. Let’s go for a ride. Somewhere far away.” My heart is racing; my pulse is throbbing in my wrist. “Where we can talk away from the roles that we’re in. Where we can just be ourselves.”

I see him question the idea. He holds onto it tightly, rolling it around his brain for a handful of moments before he agrees. “Sure. I think we could do that.”

“A date,” I stipulate.

“A motorcycle ride,” he corrects with a smile.

“Call it whatever you want, but you’re going to be in love with me by the time it’s over.” I know how confident I sound, but I’ve waited an eternity for this moment. If it doesn’t play out like I hope it will, I’ll be crushed.

Holy’s smile doesn’t falter a centimeter. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” He doesn’t deny my statement of fact, either.

I’m confident that if we get away from these hallowed high school halls, he’ll fall head over heels for me. Then we’ll both be in love with each other. This is the start of our happily ever after.

13

HOLY

Our story has only ever had one ending. I realize that now. From the moment she walked into my classroom during orientation and made her interest in me clear, she started what would become our legacy.

We meet at Top Of The World, a large hill that overlooks the west side of town. It’s abandoned at 8:00 pm as families send their kids to bed and settle in to watch their evening shows. The sun is setting just beyond the hills in the distance, casting a shadow on the ground below us.

Danielle arrives in her car, parking on the side of the road. There’s no lot at Top Of The World; you just park and hope no one hits you. When she climbs out, she’s far from appropriately dressed. A little white dress dances a few inches higher than usual, and the peak of her nipples is prominent through the fabric.

I thought I told her to wear pants. “If we crash, you’re going to get a bad case of road rash.” But I admit that she looks good. So good that it feels like someone wraps their hand around my heart and pulls it out of my chest.

She points at the sneakers on her feet to show that she followed at least one of my instructions. “I wore close-toed shoes, though,” Danielle says with a smile.

“So you did,” I return her grin. I’m forty years old. I’ve been dating women longer than this one has been alive. But I’m still nervous. Call me a big teddy bear or a baby or what have you, but I get butterflies when I see a pretty girl. “I brought you a helmet.”

Danielle looks at the helmet atop the seat behind me. She wrinkles her nose in a cute, innocent sort of way. “I’m not wearing that,” she says at last. “It’ll mess up my hair.”

She wears her locks high in a clip with dark tendrils escaping in wisps. A late summer breeze catches the stray hairs and blows them across her face. “You know what would really mess up your hair?” I grab the helmet and walk it over to her. She smells like strawberries tonight, strawberries and fresh linen.

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