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Win Some, Lose Some Page 12


  “Matthew?” Mayra’s voice dropped a little, and I glanced at her.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “You just seem very distracted today.”

  I snorted a little.

  “I’m usually distracted,” I said.

  “More than usual,” Mayra said, amending her statement.

  “Just thinking,” I admitted.

  “About?”

  About asking you to go to dinner with me tomorrow.

  I didn’t actually say anything, just like I hadn’t said anything the other eleven times she had asked today. I closed my eyes for a minute and pictured what I had practiced with Bethany the night before. My mouth ached to make the words, but I couldn’t seem to do it.

  With my eyes directed out the passenger side window, I decided to start a little easier.

  “Tomorrow is Saturday,” I said. That was a good start, wasn’t it?

  “Yes,” Mayra replied. She looked over at me as she drew out the word.

  “Are you, um…? I mean, do you…?” I trailed off, trying to figure out exactly what I wanted to say. The windows were a little steamy from the cold rain outside and the warmth coming from the car’s heater. As I spoke, I watched my breath spread condensation on the window. “Are you…doing anything tomorrow?”

  “Not really,” Mayra said with a shrug. She flipped up the turn signal and sat to wait for an oncoming car to pass, then pulled into my driveway and shut off the vehicle. “Dad was supposed to go fishing with one of his friends from Hamilton, but I guess that got canceled. I’ll probably get that English paper done early if I can’t come up with anything else to do.”

  It was now or never.

  With a pounding heart, shaking hands, and unsteady breaths, I spit it out.

  “Doyouwanttogotodinnerwithme?”

  I closed my eyes and tried to endure the silence that came afterwards. I could hear my own breathing and beating heart, but they were loud enough that everything else was blocked out. I was probably pretty close to exploding when I felt the edge of Mayra’s finger against my hand.

  “Matthew Rohan”—Mayra’s voice contained both a tone of surprise and a hint of a fake southern accent—“I do believe you are asking me out on a date.”

  “Would that, um…?” I had to stop, swallow a couple of times, and then take a deep breath to go on in a voice low enough I could barely hear myself. “Would that be okay?”

  “Yes, it would be,” Mayra said with a soft laugh. “I’m glad you finally asked me.”

  “You are?” I glanced at her quickly and then looked back to my hands.

  “It took you long enough,” Mayra said. When I peeked at her face, she was smiling.

  “I didn’t know what you would say,” I admitted.

  Yes. She said yes. She said yes to me.

  “After all the time we spend together?” Mayra shook her head a little. “We’re going to work on that self-confidence.”

  “We are?”

  “Yep.”

  She turned toward me then, first bending her knees up onto the seat and then raising herself up so she was sitting on her legs, facing me. She angled her head off to the left to look into my face. I didn’t move. My insides were still all twisted up.

  “You know,” Mayra said softly as she tilted her head farther over to look at me, “I was just about to give up hope. I would have asked you out a long time ago, but I wasn’t sure how you would take it. I’m glad you finally asked me.”

  “You are?” I glanced up at her for a moment then looked away again. Everything was happening so fast and so slow at the same time, which was leaving me horribly confused.

  “Of course I am.” In my peripheral vision, I could see her shaking her head.

  “You never look at me,” Mayra remarked suddenly.

  I tensed and tried to understand her tone. She didn’t seem angry, but memories of other times when people have made the same statement in anger were haunting me. It was often the last thing they would say before walking away from me and not coming back.

  “I do,” I whispered as fear began to creep in. My hands were starting to shake. “I look at you more than almost anyone else.”

  “It’s okay.” I heard her quiet voice beside me. I stared down at my lap as she moved a little closer. “Matthew, really—it’s all right.”

  I felt the tips of her finger against my jaw.

  “Just look at me,” she said quietly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I forced my eyes in her direction as she put pressure against my jaw, turning me toward her. Her eyes were so flawlessly brown, and her lashes were only slightly darker and completely devoid of any chemical compounds to make them look longer. They didn’t need it.

  So beautiful.

  Unable to hold her gaze any longer, I lowered my eyes and looked to the right, focusing on the light green stripe that ran down the sleeve of her shirt. Every muscle was still tensed, and I knew I would have to hit the heavy bag tonight.

  “Why is it so hard?” she asked.

  I had no idea what to say. No one had ever asked me before. No one had ever just come right out and asked like that. How could I explain that sometimes it actually hurt to look people in the eye, like maybe they could see into me and see something awful? Even worse, maybe I would see something inside of their souls, and I would find out something horrible about them. What if reincarnation was real, and if I looked long enough, I would be able to see the past lives of the souls inside of people?

  Maybe she’d figure out what a total freak I was for even thinking these things.

  Her fingers stroked over the edge of my jaw, tickling it a little. I tried to glance at her again, but I still couldn’t hold my gaze. I looked down, and my eyes focused on her mouth as she wet her lips with her tongue.

  “It just is,” I finally said. It was probably the lamest answer in the world, but it was all I had.

  “Close them, then,” she said.

  “What?” I asked. I looked at her lips again as she moved a little closer to me, so close, our faces were almost touching.

  “Just close your eyes,” she said softly.

  Not ready, I thought to myself, but the internal battle had already gone into overdrive. I knew what she was thinking—I didn’t have to be a mind reader to understand as she moved our mouths closer together. Part of me wanted to run screaming from the car, but there was another part, one deep inside the pit of my stomach, that wanted to know what it was like.

  My eyelids drifted closed.

  I felt the touch of her lips—warm and soft—against mine.

  I couldn’t believe what was happening, but there was no way I was going to stop it.

  I didn’t move.

  I didn’t even breathe.

  When I felt the touch of Mayra’s lips against mine, I just froze. I sat there on the seat of the car with my eyes closed and just felt the pressure of her mouth on mine. She pushed gently, then just a little harder. My first and second kisses combined. The pressure stopped briefly as I heard Mayra take a short breath and then resumed.

  I still didn’t move.

  My heart was pounding in my chest, harder than it had been when I was trying to ask her out. My hands clenched a little against my legs as Mayra’s hand pushed against the side of my face. Her touch was soft, and where I would have normally leaned against her palm, I still did not move at all.

  The cool air around us brushed over my mouth as Mayra moved away and sat back on her heels. Parting my eyelids, I focused on her knees beside me, my body still turned away from hers. With my gaze locked on her knees, I ran my tongue over my lips. They tasted different than I was used to, but it was okay. It was better than okay.

  It was good.

  Really good.

  Mayra’s lips moved then.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “What?” I muttered as I tried to wrap my head around what she was saying.

>   “I shouldn’t have pushed you, Matthew—I’m so sorry!”

  I blinked a few times and looked up at her eyes, which were tight and full of concern. Looking back to her lips, I wondered what I had done wrong to make her think she needed to apologize for anything, but I couldn’t find any words. I licked my lips again as I remembered the pressure against my mouth.

  I hadn’t kissed her back.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  She must believe I didn’t want her to or that I didn’t like it because I hadn’t kissed her back. I was completely and totally inexperienced, but I’d certainly seen enough television to know you are supposed to kiss back.

  “Again?” I asked quietly as I turned my eyes up to meet hers.

  Mayra paused and looked at me as I tried to hold her gaze. I didn’t last long—I had to look away after only a few seconds—but I kept glancing back to her eyes.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I replied with a nod.

  Her whole body seemed to relax a little as she shifted in the seat and brought her hand back up to my face. Her fingers trailed over my jaw and into the hair at the back of my neck as she leaned in again. I closed my eyes until I felt the touch of her lips on mine.

  I pressed back.

  Slowly.

  Carefully.

  Testing it all out.

  For a fleeting moment, I was taken back to the first time my dad took me to the gym. There was a trainer there who led me to the back and showed me how to put on the boxing gloves and then how to hit the heavy bag. The first couple of times I hit it, it felt both strange and good all at once. Then once I got the rhythm, my trainer had to practically pull me away from it to get me to stop.

  I pressed again, feeling her lips move with mine as I increased the force. Her fingers curled around my neck, encouraging me to move more, so I did. My head tilted to the side as I kissed her again, harder this time. I reached out and touched her leg, then ran up the outside of her thigh to her hip, where my fingers gripped her right at the edge of her jeans.

  Mayra gasped a little as I pulled her closer to me, wrapping my other arm around her shoulders and turning my head the opposite direction at the same time. Her tongue touched my lips, and I didn’t hesitate at all to meet it with my own.

  Better than chocolate cake.

  Her tongue felt smooth against mine, and I found myself rising up to my knees like she was—turning sideways in the car and finding myself somewhat above her to avoid the emergency brake between us. It gave me a better angle, and I used it. I kissed her again, my tongue in her mouth and my hands twisting her back down against the seat. Her legs unfolded from below her, and a moment later, I was on top of her in the driver’s seat, still not removing my mouth from hers.

  We just kept kissing and kissing and kissing.

  My lower leg was really uncomfortable, and one of my arms was kind of trapped underneath her body so I couldn’t move it, but my other hand was free. I ran it up and down her side as our mouths moved together. Mayra’s fingers dug into my hair with a sensation that was definitely different from when we sat and watched television but still felt really good. She used her other hand to grip my back, which sent small shivers all over my skin.

  Every once in a while, we would pause to take a breath, but that was about it. Other than that, we remained the same—mouths locked, hearts pounding, and Mayra’s body pinned beneath mine in her car. I never wanted it to stop, and if left to my own devices, I might very well have just starved to death rather than move away.

  “Matthew,” Mayra mumbled against my lips.

  “Mayra,” I replied, mumbling against hers. My mom had been a big fan of the daytime soaps, and I was pretty sure that was the right response.

  “Matthew…stop.”

  I sucked in a breath as I pulled away. That single word felt like a punch to the chest, and my mind started spinning in a counterclockwise circle. I hated it when my mind went counterclockwise. As I hovered over Mayra and wondered what I had done wrong, I realized just what sort of position we were in.

  I had one leg over her lap, practically holding her down in the seat of her car. The windows were all steamed up, and when I looked down at Mayra’s face, her lips were all red and puffy.

  “Shit, shit, shit—I’m sorry!” I cried out as I backed away from her and into the passenger seat.

  Mayra immediately giggled. She shifted herself up in the seat and tried to smooth out her hair a bit with her fingers.

  “For what?” she asked. “Practically kissing me to death? I didn’t mind at all.”

  “You said ‘stop.’” I narrowed my eyes and looked off to her shoulder, perplexed.

  “Matthew, we’ve been at it for a while, and this seat is not exactly comfortable.”

  “Oh.”

  She leaned farther up in the seat and brought our lips together briefly.

  “How about we take this inside?”

  “We haven’t kissed in there before,” I told her. I couldn’t even imagine it.

  “We haven’t kissed in here before,” Mayra pointed out. She waved her hand toward the foggy windows and giggled again.

  “I wasn’t thinking.”

  “You aren’t supposed to think about it,” Mayra said. “You’re supposed to just let it happen.”

  “But if we go inside, I will be thinking about it.”

  “Don’t.” Mayra shrugged her shoulders.

  “I have to.” I sat with my back against the seat and ran my hands through my hair. “When we go in my house, first we do our homework. Then we drink Cokes in the living room, and then we watch TV. It’s what we do.”

  “Are you telling me that we can only make out in my car?” From the corner of my eye, I could see Mayra looking at me. She was shaking her head and probably deciding I really was a nutcase.

  “Probably not…” My voice trailed off. “There could be other places. Just…we can’t when we’re supposed to be doing those other things.”

  Mayra let out a long sigh as she slumped against the seat.

  “What about add-ons?” she asked abruptly.

  “Add-ons?”

  “Yeah.” Mayra sat up straighter and turned toward me again. “Like, could I give you a kiss when you bring me a Coke? As a thank-you?”

  I thought about that for a little bit. When I brought her the Coke I poured for her, I usually bent down a little to place it on the coaster. Our heads were close together then, and if I just turned a little, we could kiss.

  “That might work,” I said with a nod.

  “I’m glad to hear there’s some room for negotiation,” Mayra said. She chuckled quietly. “Let’s get inside and see what we can work out because I am not done with you, Matthew Rohan.”

  “Okay.” Wondering just what she might have meant by her last statement, I opened up the door beside me and backed out of the car while I grabbed my book bag from the floor. As I climbed out, I poked the little fish shape one more time—maybe just for good luck or something—and then shut the door.

  As I turned to go to the house, I was confused by the presence of my own car in the driveway, parked next to Mayra’s car. While I tried to figure out just how it had managed to appear there—it was certainly not there when Mayra and I first pulled up—I heard a sound to my left.

  Travis was leaning against the hood of the car with his arms folded over his chest and his eyebrows raised. There was a bit of a smirk on his face as he looked me up and down and scratched the back of his head with his fingertips.

  “Having a good day?” he asked with a snicker.

  I couldn’t really deny it, so I took a deep breath and faced my uncle. Before I could say anything, Mayra’s voice distracted me.

  “Oh my God! My hair is a disaster!”

  Mayra laughed as she climbed out of the car and tried to smooth the hair on the back of her head with her fingers. It really was all over the place, which made me think of my own, untamable hair. She moved around the front bumper, whe
re both her steps and her laughter stopped abruptly as she looked up with her wide, brown eyes into my uncle’s wry grin.

  “Oh shit,” she said softly.

  “Sounds about right,” Travis replied. “Must have been difficult driving with all that fog on the windows, huh? You want me to have your defroster checked out?”

  “The defroster doesn’t work,” Mayra responded with her eyes still bugged out. She glanced sideways at me and bit down on her lip. “It’s hard to find parts for that model.”

  “Well, you’re in luck.” Travis chuckled. “Matthew is great at looking up ‘parts’ on the internet. I’m sure he can locate just what you need eventually.”

  Mayra turned bright red, but I wasn’t completely sure why. Travis looked back at me, and I didn’t understand his expression as he shook his head and motioned us both inside. Mayra looked hesitant, as if she might bolt for the woods, but she dropped her gaze to the ground, and we all went inside. I could feel heat in the tips of my ears and tried to decide what was causing it.

  “I was supposed to find out for Beth if you managed to ask Mayra out,” Travis said quietly as we walked into the living room. “I guess we’ve already moved past that, huh?”

  “Um…” I didn’t really know what I was supposed to say at that point, so my next words ended up sounding like a question. “We’re going to have dinner tomorrow?”

  “You’re supposed to do that first.” Travis snorted.

  Mayra plopped down on the couch, her face still red but her eyes now narrowed. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at Travis as he kept shaking his head at her and snickering. She huffed out a breath and turned her eyes to the coffee table in front of her.

  “I guess you two really are connecting.” Travis laughed. I didn’t think I had heard him laugh quite like that before. He didn’t sound amused at all.

  “You know, I’ve had about enough of your insinuations!” Mayra suddenly yelled loud enough for me to startle a bit. “It’s none of your damn business anyway!”

  “Whoa!” Travis’s eyes narrowed as well, and he took a half step toward the couch. “You are the one who said you just wanted to make friends with my nephew, and I do believe I called bullshit on you then. What’s your story now? This still a science project for you?”