Win Some, Lose Some Page 27

  Today was the day.

  Well, more precisely—tonight was the night.

  I wasn’t sure actually planning it out was the very best of ideas. All in all, the whole party fiasco wasn’t completely bad, and I had managed to avoid thinking about that for the better part of a week. Granted, I learned all about how much puking and hangovers suck, and Aimee and Scott were still trying to get things worked out between themselves and their parents, but it wasn’t all bad.

  Now that high school was officially over, Mayra was mostly happy she didn’t have to face any of our classmates. Apparently, I said a few things at the party that weren’t taken the way they were intended. She wasn’t inclined to tell me exactly what I had said, and I admitted I didn’t remember it all very clearly.

  Regardless, Mayra thought events at the party would have gone better if we had talked about them and planned everything out, which led to planning out tonight. We had talked about it and talked about it until she was blue in the face, and I was blue in the balls.

  We were going to have sex tonight.

  Dinner would be first. I was to pick Mayra up at six o’clock and bring her back to my house to cook. She was making pad Thai from scratch, and I was really looking forward to it. She had also hinted at chocolate cake, and I was definitely hoping she wasn’t joking about it because that would just about kill me.

  After dinner, we would relax, watch television, and make out. We were just going to be casual and keep it at about the same level we usually did. Then I was going to go punch the heavy bag for a while to release whatever pent-up energy I was bound to have, take a shower, and then meet her in my room.

  I swallowed hard as I dropped my head back down to my pillow and took my dick in my hand.

  For the last week, I had thought in enough detail about having sex with Mayra that it often required some attention before I could go back out in public. I thought about what she would look like when I walked into my room. Would she already be naked and on my bed? Or would she be wearing one of those sexy lingerie items I had seen in catalogs? Would she light a bunch of candles and sprinkle rose petals all over the place?

  Should I do that?

  My hand slid up and down—base to tip, tip to base. I ran my tongue across my lips, and imagined Mayra straddling me. In my mind, she leaned over and placed her lips against mine as she lowered herself over me.

  Moisture covered my palm as I ran it over the head of my cock, and then I dragged it back down to my balls. I could practically feel her body against me—the sweat from her skin mixing with mine as we moved slowly together.

  “Ahh!” I cried out. For a moment, I just lay there and tried to regain my breath and my senses. I glanced at the clock, which read seven forty-five in the morning, and let out a long sigh.

  There was no way I was going to make it through till tonight.

  I pushed myself out of bed, showered, dressed, and sat down to make a list for the store.

  A loaf of bread, a container of milk, and a stick of butter.

  I shook my head, pushing Sesame Street memories from my thoughts as much as I could. That same phrase always came into my head when I made a list for the grocery store, and it would randomly repeat itself until I was through the checkout lane.

  I started writing what I really wanted to get.

  Mac and cheese

  Bread

  Carrots

  Coke

  Doritos

  Cereal

  Milk

  Bagels

  Cream cheese

  Apples

  Bananas

  Flowers

  Cond

  I couldn’t even write the whole word at first but also didn’t want to chance actually forgetting them either. That was at least part of the reason for planning this all out, right? I didn’t want to forget anything, so I wrote “oms” at the end of “cond” and folded up the paper. Once it was shoved into my pocket, I headed out the door and drove to the store.

  Partway there, I pulled over and took out the list. I scratched out everything but the letter “C” since that should be a big enough clue for me, and anyone reading my list over my shoulder wouldn’t know what it meant. It could stand for carrots, chicken, or cookies.

  Cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C!

  Mayra said it was superfluous since she was on the pill. One quick reminder about Aimee and Scott had her seeing things my way. The last thing I wanted to do was to miss planning that particular aspect of the evening.

  The store was crowded for a Saturday morning, and I tried to move silently between people and not meet anyone’s eyes as I gathered up the items on my list. Most of it was stuff I bought every week, but once I got to the flowers, I just stood in the floral department of the store and stared at all the different types and colors. I had no idea what to get for her or even what kind of flowers she liked.

  What if she didn’t like flowers?

  What if she was allergic?

  “May I help you?”

  I nearly jumped right over the cart as the woman who worked at the floral counter sneaked up behind me. I closed my eyes tightly and hoped she would go away.

  “Are you looking for an arrangement?” she asked. “Who is it for?”

  “For whom,” I whispered.

  “Excuse me?” the lady said.

  I couldn’t answer her. I’d already corrected the grammar of a total stranger who was just trying to be helpful, and I could feel the panic rising in my chest. Keeping my eyes closed, I shifted the cart away from her a little. She huffed and walked away.

  Maybe flowers weren’t necessary.

  Next to the floral department, there was a big selection of balloons, and I tried to find an appropriate one for the occasion, but it just didn’t exist. Congratulations seemed the most fitting, but that still seemed wrong. There were, however, boxes containing a small tank of helium and an assortment of balloons sitting nearby. I smiled to myself and put one of them in my cart. It was twenty-five dollars, and I hadn’t budgeted for it, but I was pretty sure I could make up for it without too much trouble. I ran my hand through my hair and started toward the pharmacy area.

  Mayra had already saved me thirty dollars in haircuts, I thought to myself. That covered the balloons.

  I pushed the cart up and down the aisle full of vitamins and then the one full of cold-relief products. I checked over all the different hairbrushes and combs and even looked at the various types of makeup in a large display. I wondered what kind Mayra used and if she would be wearing any tonight.

  Maneuvering the cart closer to the actual pharmacy counter, I saw someone who I thought might be related to someone else I had seen acting as a substitute teacher at school a couple of years ago, so I quickly pushed the cart back to the produce section on the other side of the store.

  About an hour later, I had made it back.

  I stood with my body angled toward a display of ankle and wrist braces, but my eyes kept moving right beneath the drop-off counter for prescriptions to the assortment of boxes labeled Trojans. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I had to work hard to keep myself from hyperventilating.

  Trojans was a ridiculous name for a brand of condoms. It conjured up images of war and horses, and I didn’t want to think about either of those things.

  I had to get out of there.

  But I couldn’t leave without one of those boxes.

  I was going to have to get through checkout with it, and I had more than ten items. I couldn’t even use the express lane!

  I had to get ahold of myself, grab a box, and get the fuck out of there.

  Taking a deep breath, I looked around to quickly ascertain that there was no one else nearby, and then I darted out and grabbed a large, gold-colored box. I didn’t look at it or read the label; I just shoved it in the cart underneath a box of Cheerios.

  Moving back to my original position, I nonchalantly began to peruse the ankle braces again.

  After another five minutes, I decid
ed it was safe to make my way toward the cashiers. The line for the self-checkout was really long, and after all my dawdling around the pharmacy, I didn’t have the time to spare.

  My hands were shaking as I approached the checkout lane. There were two people ahead of me, which was fine, but when another person came up behind me, I had to change lanes. I did that two more times before I managed to get to the front without anyone coming up and watching what I put on the conveyor belt.

  I saved the Cheerios and the hidden box beneath them for last, stacking them together on the belt and shoving the bananas and apples around them to hide the words on the box. Of course, the checkout person had to pick everything up separately to scan it so I could pay, but at least it was a guy.

  “Hey there, Matthew!”

  My body went completely stiff and not in any good kind of way.

  Samantha stepped up behind me with a bottle of Diet Coke in one hand and a large bag of powdered donuts in the other. For a moment, the sheer incongruousness of it distracted me enough that I didn’t consider what she might see on the conveyor belt. Diet Coke and a huge bag of donuts? Really?

  “So, looks like you’re playing a little ‘poke the fish’ tonight.” Samantha giggled and pointed toward the bagger, who was carefully examining the large box of forty Trojan Ultra Ribbed condoms.

  I couldn’t figure out what she meant, and there was no way I was going to form words to express a response, so I just handed the cashier my debit card and ran the hell out of there without uttering a sound.

  I made it out alive and with condoms, which counted as a win.

  Chapter 18—Sex is Better than Cake

  Three hours.

  Three hours before I was supposed to pick up Mayra and bring her back to my house so we could have dinner and end the night up in my bedroom, giving our virginity to each other.

  I was a fucking mess.

  Even though I had actually made it out of the grocery store with all my purchases, I was still on high alert. I had to make sure none of the neighbors could see what I had bought, so I closed the garage door after pulling inside. After I checked the side windows to guarantee the neighbor who was mowing his lawn couldn’t see inside, I opened up the trunk and pulled out the bags of food and…and…and…

  Condoms.

  I should have asked Travis to get them for me, except then I would have been barraged with questions for hours afterwards. The whole experience, even without Samantha’s strange interruption, was horrifying. Now that I had a chance to think about our classmate’s remark, I had no idea how she knew about Mayra’s birthmark, my obsession over it, or why she was bringing that up in the first place. My hazy memories of the beach party weren’t any help in this regard, either.

  I recalled something about jellyfish, but the memory was unclear.

  I carefully unpacked all the food, avoiding that bag until the very last second. Once everything else was put away, I pulled the large gold box out of the plastic sack and looked at it. It didn’t seem quite as frightening as it did at the store, but it was still definitely intimidating as hell. I had no idea where to put the damn things but figured somewhere in my room made sense.

  What if Mayra didn’t want to be in my room? What if she’d rather do it on the couch? Or a chair? Or the kitchen table? People did that, didn’t they?

  Hell if I knew.

  I opened up the box and pulled out a long string of little square packets, all attached to each other. Taking a deep breath, I tore them off in groups of four—so I knew they would come out even—and placed some in every room of the house, even the bathroom. Maybe Mayra would want to do it in the shower—the same shower where I touched myself and thought about her, the very idea of which would likely send me into a panic attack if she were there.

  I ran to the basement to punch the heavy bag.

  It didn’t help.

  Neither did television, working on my websites, or reading. All I could think about was how many different ways I could single-handedly screw it all up.

  Fall asleep after dinner.

  Not be able to make her come.

  Not be able to get hard.

  Not be able to get the condom on right.

  Come too soon.

  Come too late.

  Just generally suck at the whole lovemaking thing.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I curled up in a ball on the couch. I pulled my legs up to my chest and just held on, trying to keep the insane panic that was washing over me from taking too tight a hold. I could hear my panting breaths in my ears, and my heart felt like it was going to rip right through my ribcage. I could hear the clock ticking, bringing me closer and closer to the time I would have to make a move.

  The phone rang.

  I wanted to just keep myself in the fetal position and ignore it, but I was not good at ignoring the phone. Once it rang, I always felt compelled to answer it. It was one of the things Mayra found amusing about me. Even though I knew it was usually telemarketers calling, I couldn’t not answer the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “I love you.” Mayra soft voice flowed out of the phone’s speaker and into my heart.

  My legs gave out, and I dropped to the kitchen floor. I used my free hand to tug my hair, and I let out a long breath. The phone felt cold against my cheek, and I pressed against it as if I were closer to Mayra that way.

  “I’m scared,” I whispered.

  “I know,” she replied easily. “I am a little, too. It’s all right. We’re all right. I love you, and I’ll still love you tomorrow, no matter what happens tonight.”

  Her words covered my skin and relaxed my muscles. I rubbed my fingers against my closed eyes as I leaned back against the wall.

  “I want it to be good for you,” I said quietly. “I don’t want to mess it up.”

  “Matthew, I don’t know what I’m doing either, you know. But this is also about the most natural thing two people can do together. Remember the first time you kissed me?”

  “Yes.” I would remember it forever.

  “You remember how you just let go—let your instincts take over?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do that again.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. I shook my head back and forth, rolling it against the wall behind me. I considered what my “natural instincts” might be and envisioned myself pounding into Mayra as hard and fast as possible. “If I did that, I might hurt you.”

  “I don’t think you could ever hurt me,” Mayra replied.

  “I love you so much,” I told her. “I want everything to be perfect, and I don’t even know what perfect looks like.”

  “Perfect looks like you and me together,” she said. “Everything else is icing. Oh! Speaking of icing…I made it from scratch.”

  “You’re bringing cake?”

  “Yep.”

  “Chocolate?”

  “Yep.”

  “Is it six o’clock yet?”

  Mayra laughed.

  “Almost,” she replied. “I still have a few things to do around here, and Henry doesn’t leave for another hour. Don’t come too soon, or he’ll still be here.”

  “Does he know you are coming over?”

  “Yes,” she said with a sigh. “I have the feeling he knows I’m spending the night there, but he would rather pretend not to know, you know?”

  “I guess,” I said. “You didn’t tell him?”

  “Hell, no!” Mayra cried. “Why? Did you tell Travis and Bethany?”

  “No,” I said, realizing her point. “I guess that would be weird, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes, it would,” Mayra agreed. “Okay—I need to get back to it. Stay calm. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” It was strange how easily that phrase slipped from my tongue.

  The phone went silent, but I just sat there and held it for a few minutes. I realized I was smiling and wondered how she knew right when to call. Maybe women’s intuition was real.

  ~oOo~

 
“Here—carry this,” Mayra said as she thrust a paper grocery sack into my hands. She leaned into the trunk of my car to pull out something else, and I could see a thin sliver of skin between the hem of her shirt and her shorts.

  I sighed and refocused on the bag in my hands. I was pretty sure it had a cake in it. I tried to peer into the top of it, but Mayra straightened back up and shook her finger at me.

  “No peeking!”

  “I can already smell it, you know,” I told her. The scent of chocolate and sugar and warm, moist cake filled my nose.

  “Well, you still can’t see it, and that’s the important bit.”

  “Why?”

  “No questions!” Mayra laughed and headed into the house with another bag, which was filled with rice noodles, vegetables, and various bottles of Asian sauces.

  I glanced over my shoulder, half expecting Henry to suddenly arrive and announce he was skipping the fishing trip and joining us for dinner. If not Mayra’s father, maybe Bethany or Travis would show up to check on me. I hadn’t seen either of them since Wednesday, and it wouldn’t be unusual for Travis to show up with dinner while Beth was getting ready for a business trip.

  “Stop it,” Mayra said in a soft, singsong voice.

  “Stop what?”

  “Thinking about all the worst case scenarios.”

  “Oh.”

  Mayra pulled all the items out of the sacks and lined them up on the counter. I helped chop up green onions while she made the sauce and cooked the noodles. I watched intently as she expertly fried up the tofu and vegetables in the sauce, then added noodles, egg, and peanuts into the mix. She dished out heaping portions onto our plates, and we dug in.

  It was delicious.

  “How can you like Thai and not Chinese food?” I asked.

  “Totally different,” Mayra said. “Thai sauce is curry based, and there are no water chestnuts. Water chestnuts are nasty.”

  “But…they just taste like…water.”

  “Exactly.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Water shouldn’t be crunchy.”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m not completely sure chocolate cake is appropriate with Thai food,” Mayra said.