Chapter ONE

Chapter One

Andrew:

On the outside, she looked like every other girl from our school - blonde, with light make-up on her eyes, and her skirt pulled up as high as she could get away with before the administration would get involved for violation of our school uniforms. She was, well, a living doll, with her perfectly straight hair and glossed lips. But still, she wasn’t exactly like them either. She’d opted out of the heals that the girls were allowed to wear this year, choosing mary jane’s instead. On her left hand, what I could only assume was a purity ring glistened on her finger - which, combined with the short skirt, was an oxymoron if I’d ever seen one. As a senior, I’d seen plenty of these girls. Living in Southern California, it was almost a rarity to see someone who didn’t look the way that she did. But still, there was something different about her. Something that had me licking my lips in what, lust? There was something about her, and I wanted her.

“Man,” My friend, Josh, says, following my gaze to the girl. He’s slumped against his locker, arms across his chest. I don’t look at him, my eyes are still fixed on the girl. “Andy, why don’t you drool over her.”

“Andy’s got a thing for the Frosh?” Clutch says. Clutch, at one point in time, was called Kevin. But, for reasons that none of us seem to understand anymore, that name faded a long time ago. He looks over at the girl too, then back at me. “Shit, I don’t blame you.”

Josh looks at me, a smirk forming on his lips. “How long before she’s sprawled across the backseat of your car, Andy? You know that’s what you’re thinking about. You want that,” He looks back at her. “And man, can’t say I blame you. Just look at that ass.”

“Shut up, Partington. You too, Clutch,” I say, reaching up and running my hands through my thick red hair. I narrow my eyes. “Neither of you will touch her. I’ve got dibs.”

“Dibs,” Clutch chuckles, nudging Josh. “You know what that means. How long do you think, Josh? A month?”

Josh shakes his head. His eyes find mine, skeptical. I know exactly what he’s thinking. “I bet he’ll have had his way with her and be bored with her by the end of the week.”

“Both of you, shut up,” I say, tightening my hands into fists.

Josh licks his lips. “I can’t wait until you’re bored with her and I get a taste,” He’s looking at me now, teasingly, and sometimes it’s hard to believe that he’s my best friend. And honestly, we probably wouldn’t be if he wasn’t a killer guitarist. About six months ago, Clutch, Josh, and I had gotten together with a friend of ours, Brian, in a pathetic attempt of forming what we’d liked to call the next great American band.

“You won’t,” I say, and while it hadn’t been intentional, it came out in a low hiss. Josh stepped back a little, his eyes narrowing as well. “And I do believe I told you to back off, she’s mine.”

“Fine, fine,” Clutch laughs, putting his hand on Josh’s arm. Clutch, in many ways, is the peacekeeper. Josh and I, while we have been friends since we were in third grade and know each other inside and out, are often down each other’s throats. Clutch is the comic relief, the one that makes us laugh and keeps us from killing each other. “We’ll meet you at lunch, Andy,” He says, his hand clenching on Josh’s arm, leading him away from me. As they walk away, I can hear Josh muttering under his breath about me, and I roll my eyes.

I sigh, turning back to my locker and twisting the combination lock. They had a point, really, I was known for getting bored with girls quickly. I’d want them, and then not long after that I’d take them in the backseat of my convertible, and then I’d be done with them. Lust over. Gone, you can go now. And of course, Josh had a thing for picking up my rebounds, and it was a soft spot with him that he’d never had a girlfriend that I hadn’t dated first.

As a senior, my schedule is kind of a joke, and you can tell that by looking in my locker. It’s full of notebooks and fresh, new binders that will go the entire year without being touched. You see, the majority of my classes are electives, filler classes for seniors that don’t give out homework, or really have any educational value. I chuckle, turning my head and watching all the freshmen struggling under the weight of their books, when one of them crashes into me.

I look down, she’s nearly a foot shorter than me, and realize it’s her. Even just looking at the top of her blonde head as she bends down to pick up the books, notebooks, and dozens of the papers you collect on the first day of school that she’d dropped, I know it’s her. I bend down, carefully picking an English book up with my index finger and thumb, catching her eye.

“I. Am. So. Sorry,” She says, breaking up her words into short sentences. With every word, her cheeks redden more. She slips the book out of my grasp, tucking it under the others and hugging them against her chest. “I was… walking, and I was staring… at my feet. And not… paying attention. And I am so sorry,” She says, and just when I think she’s done apologizing, she opens her mouth to start round three.

“I’m Andrew,” I say before she can begin, hoping to whiz past the apologies by distracting her. She looks up at me, and I almost regret it, because now she just looks more flustered than she was before. She stares at me for a few seconds before I chuckle, looking at her patiently. “And you are?”

“Edwina,” She says, straightening up and her hands go to find her skirt, twisting it into a knot around her fist. My eyes flick down there, and I wonder if she notices that by doing that, her panties - or more like the mere concept of panties, from what it looks like - are completely visible. When I smirk, her cheeks turn a deeper shade of red - how is that even possible, really - and she drops her hand away from her skirt.

“Ed then,” I reach up, slipping the books out of her arms. When she opens her mouth to protest, I shake my head and place a finger to her lips. “It’s the least I can do, clearly you’re a danger with these. You’re new here?”

“Freshman,” Her voice is barely more than a whisper, with a stutter that leaves words dangling on the tip of her tongue. Freshman, as if that wasn’t obvious. “And you’re a senior?” When I nod, she opens her mouth again. “O-oh! That sounds really creepy, doesn’t it? It wasn’t supposed to, really. I don’t like, spy on you or anything. I just saw you hanging out with those boys, and they’re seniors. And the other girls said that you-”

I glance up at her. Well, I mean, I’d been looking at her, just not her face. “The other girls said what, exactly?” I guess I say it too sharp, because she instantly winces and looks down. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m just curious as to what’s going around about me.”

“They say you’re in a band,” She murmurs, looking at her feet. I sigh, relieved. There were so many things those girls could have said about me that would have ruined my chances with her. “Which, if it’s true, is really cool because I really like music. Even though I’m not really allowed to listen to it, but I still do and I just don’t tell my mom about it because she would just, freak out. And when my mom fr-”

“It’s true,” I cut her off once again, which is seeming to be a routine for this girl. “I’m the vocalist. We’re not exactly named yet.”

“Oh!” She says, clapping her hands together and rocking back and forth on her feet. “That’s so exciting, really, it is. I love music, I consider myself to be really good at music. Well not playing, I can’t play an instrument but I’m very good at enjoying music.”

“Maybe I’ll let you listen to one of our demos.”

“Really?” Her eyes are wide. “That would be awesome! I have my walkman with me and everything, we could listen now if you have them with you.”

“They’re in my car,” I say, almost absentmindedly. I wondered if Josh and Clutch would be truly mad at me if I ditched them for lunch, or if they’d forgive me when they realized what I was doing. I placed my finger on my chin, looking towards the front doors of the school. “I wouldn’t be able to get them for you until after school… Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you’d like to skip lunch and come with me?” I say smoothly, letting my hand slide to the small of her back. I watch as her cheeks turn red and her eyes leave me and go towards the cafeteria.

“Well I was supposed to eat lunch with those girls…”

“Oh,” I say, trying to sound more disappointed than I actually am. “Well, I suppose that’s okay. I guess you’re not interested.”

Her eyes dart back to mine, and now she’s biting on her lip. “Oh, I am! I really would like to hear your music, Andrew.” I try to suppress my chuckle. It still surprises me that she thinks this is still about my music, but then I glance down at the purity ring on her finger and remember that she’s a good girl. My eyes barely leave the ring, and I can’t help but wonder how long it’ll take me before that ring is insignificant. If I have my way, it’ll only be a few hours.

“The girls can wait then?”

She nods. “They can wait,” She agrees. She takes a step towards the door, then freezes and looks at me. “Wait, won’t we get in trouble? We’re not supposed to go to the parking lot during the day.”

Laughing, I press my hand into the small of her back, guiding her forward. “Come on,” I laugh, “They just say that to scare you.”

“Are you sure?” She asks. When I nod, she takes another step forward. She still looks unsure, but she’s following me, and quickly I let my hand fall down to take her hand. She grips it, following after me at a quicker pace now.

When we get to the parking lot, I lead her to my car and push her up against it slightly. “So this is my car,” I say, letting my hands fall to her hips. My eyes drift down to her skirt, and at the same time I let my fingertips inch it up slowly.

“I-it’s nice,” She stumbles out.

“Do your parents know you wear your skirt this high?”

“No, they’d kill me,” She squirms slightly as my fingers trace at her thighs. “So um. Do you um. Have a girlfriend?”

“Not currently,” I say, watching her trying to focus. It was almost amusing, really, to watch the way she resisted my fingertips.

“Is that by choice?”

“No, not really,” I lie.

She blushes. “Oh, well, I mean, I can’t understand why a girl wouldn’t want you. That’s just really… unfortunate?”

“I don’t think it’s so bad,” I chuckled slightly.

“Well I-I-I’ve never had a boyfriend, so I wouldn’t know,” She says, letting her eyes fall closed as my fingertips push up higher.

“Well, do you want one?”

“I um.” Her eyes dart open, and she looks exactly like a dear caught in the headlights of an incoming car. “I uh. I guess so.”

I smile at her, letting go of her and moving to rest my hand on my car handle. “Let’s get in my car, shall we?” She nods slightly, reaching for the passenger door. I reach up, grabbing her hand to stop her. “Backseat? Really, it’s much more comfortable.”

“Sure,” Ed says, her voice shaking. I open the door for her, helping her slide in before sliding in after her. She looks nervous, and I almost feel guilty, but then I look down at her skirt and really, she’s asking for it.

“What’s the matter?” I say, reaching over and pulling her legs into my lap. I let my hand find her thigh again, this time rubbing with my thumb and not my fingers.

“I’ve…” Her cheeks turn a bright scarlet. “I’ve never even kissed a boy, Andrew.”

“I’ll show you how,” I say carelessly, inching my hand up. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Those girls,” I look up at her, stopping a little. “They say that you do drugs.” I barely murmur a yes, my lips coming to rest on her neck. “What exactly do you do?”

“Weed, usually,” I shrug, sucking lightly on her neck. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve just, I’ve never done that. It’s so… bad,” She sighs. “I guess, I usually just hang out with the safe crowd.”

“Not anymore you don’t,” I chuckle against her skin.

“Andrew,” She says, her hand coming to rest on my chest. “Are we going to have sex?”

I don’t stop kissing her neck, instead pull back just enough to whisper. “Do you want to?”

“Do you want to?”

“Well of course, sexy.”

“Andrew,” Ed says, closing her eyes and tilting her head to the side as I kiss her neck. “Is it better if you’re high?” When I nod slightly, she murmurs. “I want to be high.”

I pull back this time, looking at her with a wide smirk. “Well aren’t you a bad girl,” I tease, climbing into the front seat. I motion for her to climb up. “C’mon, get in the front seat.”

She’s quiet while I drive, fiddling with the fabric of her skirt. This girl knows how to tease, every time she touches her skirt it somehow manages to go even further up her leg, and it’s impossible to keep my eyes on the road. After a few minutes, she reaches up, pulling her long hair into a ponytail, and with the absence of her hair on her neck, I can see the hickeys starting to form on her skin.

“Andrew?” She says, breaking our silence. I turn to look at her, and she looks even more nervous. “If I.. If I give it up, are you going to leave me?”

I’m glad I have driving as an excuse to not look at her, because I don’t think I could lie convincingly if I had to look at her. “Of course not, baby, where would you get that idea?”

“My mom says that my virginity is something to be cherished,” Even as she says it, I can hear the disbelief in her voice, and maybe she’s not the goody two shoes I thought she was.

“Christian?” I ask

“Mormon,” She says, but it comes across as more of a groan. “I go to church ever Wednesday and Sunday, and sometimes Saturday. It’s about all I do, my mom doesn’t want me being with kids outside of the church.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Why?”

“She thinks that Satan will get me,” She says seriously, and I can’t help but laugh. “What’s so funny? Satan is a very real threat!”

I look at her for a moment, trying to quiet my laughter. “You’re cute,” I say finally. She stumbles over her words for a second, and I sigh. “You know that Satan isn’t real, right? It’s just our parents way of scaring us into behaving. That kind of stuff is just propaganda, everything the church teaches you is, really. Our parents did all those ‘bad’ things when they were our age too, you know.”

“So…” She says, thinking it over quietly. “So it’s not bad that I want to ask you to pull over and take me?”

I smirk, shaking my head as I pull to the side of the road. “Not at all,” I say before turning in my seat. “Why don’t we get in the backseat, then?” She nods, taking off her seatbelt and climbing into the backseat quickly. I follow her, and God, I’ve never been more happy for tinted windows.