Stir Me Up Page 13

  Julian’s still kind of staring at me. I turn away, embarrassed and then glance back and somehow I’m close and he’s there and his head is bending down to mine a little, and it’s suddenly hard to breathe. “Uhh...”

  “Shh,” he whispers and my insides turn to ganache—bittersweet, or maybe a foamy Sabayon, or just a dark, velvety port wine reduction.

  He balances his crutch under his arm and reaches for me—only I’m still holding the stupid plate with the sandwich. “Heh...” A nervous peep of a noise escapes me.

  I try to reach around him to set the plate down. He tries to step aside to give me room, but his fake foot lands on my real one. I yelp and jerk away.

  “AAAHH!” he cries, falling.

  “Julian!”

  “OW!”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Am I going to survive you?”

  I move the desk chair aside. He landed right near it.

  “I survived Afghanistan,” he says. “Survived my truck being blown up and my leg being blown off. But Camille Broussard? No. No no.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Yes, I’m effing hurt. Are you happy now?”

  I squat down next to him and reach under his arms. “Come on.”

  “Don’t help me.”

  “Get up.”

  “You think I can’t get myself up off the floor?”

  “No, I know you can.”

  “Then stop it.” Our arms are tangled.

  “You stop it. Stop being such a stubborn, pissed-off —”

  He seizes me and kisses me and my brains are dashed and my body’s like glue and all I want is this, just this, him. I cling to him and kiss him back. My mouth is suddenly homing in on his as if they’re linked by magnetic force. Oh my God, I want him so much I’m making physics analogies, and he hasn’t even used his tongue—yet. Wait. What the hell am I doing? What’s gotten into me? I drag my mouth away.

  “Holy shit,” Julian whispers. His breathing is heavy—he reaches for me again.

  “No, wait,” I say, thinking of Luke, my life, just trying to think in general.

  “Okay, don’t freak out.”

  “I’m not. Just...” I free myself, stumble over toppled furniture and crutches and hurry from the room.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I make it to my alcove and hide under the covers, thinking of that kiss, Julian’s mouth pressing against mine so urgently. He felt so good and tasted even better...and it’s not just that. It’s him. Everything about him. I’m falling hard for him.

  There’s no denying it anymore. And there’s no question anymore—I need to break up with Luke. We’ve grown apart, he keeps pushing for more and I don’t want to give it. He just isn’t as interesting for me as he used to be. I mean, okay, he’s hot, and fairly nice, and we both like to cook. But the truth is there’s not much else there. Like, if we were forced to spend two hours alone at a table together, without cooking or friends or being able to touch each other, it’d be a pretty dull couple of hours.

  As opposed to all the fascinating incredibleness that is downstairs right now. I grip the sides of my uncomfortable little bed. What a kiss. I can’t stop thinking of it, of kissing Julian like that over and over. I have to calm down, chill out. I crack open my little corner window and crawl back under the covers again, hanging on to the memory of that kiss until at last it softens and melts just enough in the corners of my mind to let me go to sleep.

  Julian kissed me last night, I text Taryn secretly from class the next morning. We were arguing and I shoved him and knocked him over. Then I went to help him up and he kissed me.

  HOORAY! HUZZAH! FINALLY—AT LAST! JUST REMEMBER WHO SAW IT COMING FIRST!

  I have to break up with Luke. Today.

  DO YOU KNOW WHAT TO TELL HIM?

  No idea. Help!

  I have to go to a different class before I get my answer, and this one must be harder for Taryn to text in, because it takes her awhile. When I finally do hear back, the period’s almost over.

  Tell him...your feelings for him have changed and leave it at that. Say it isn’t him. it’s just that you don’t think you love him the same way anymore. it’s not you. it’s me. you know...

  Ugh.

  I head to Luke’s as soon as the bell rings at 12:05.

  He opens the door for me and pulls me into his arms. “Mmm...at last.”

  “Luke?”

  “Come inside.”

  No, I think to myself, not in the house. It’s too much a part of him, of all the times I went to his room with him. “Do you mind coming out here a minute instead?”

  He releases me. “Sure.” His eyes are guarded already.

  We walk over to the old apple tree in his front yard, and I touch the craggy bark.

  “What’s up?”

  “You had lots of girlfriends in high school before me,” I say. A weak start.

  “They don’t matter. My feelings for you are completely different.”

  “Well, you’re the only boyfriend I’ve ever had. The only one. You know?”

  He comes up behind me. “What’s bothering you? Is it that I want sex?”

  “There are other things.”

  “Things like what?”

  “Like how we never seem to just hang out together.”

  “We hang out all the time.”

  “Not without all the hot and heavy.”

  “What’s wrong with hot and heavy?”

  “I want more than that, Luke.”

  “We can do other things. Hang out.”

  “I don’t think so,” I say, cringing inside and bracing myself. “I think my feelings for you have changed.”

  Okay, that phrase sounded cringe-worthy when Taryn first suggested it in her text to me, but actually, it’s pretty accurate. I study Luke to see his reaction. He seems to be thinking about what I just said.

  “Is it that wounded war vet step-cousin?”

  “No.” Crap.

  “Turn around and look at me.” He turns me, but not roughly. “Is it him?”

  “It’s just me.”

  “And him?”

  I hesitate, not sure what to say. I don’t want to hurt him, but he deserves some honesty, I think. “Maybe a little.”

  Luke releases me—to go nuts. “Goddamn it! Goddamn that arrogant bastard. You don’t love him. You just admire him because he’s a war vet and feel sorry for him because he’s missing a leg. He just likes you because you’re pretty, and there around him, being so nice to him and cooking for him all the time. Meanwhile, I love you. I’ve been patient for you. I’ve waited for you.”

  He has waited...this is terrible of me. “I should go.”

  “You’ll regret this. We have something special here, and you’re throwing it away.”

  “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  “Ask yourself what it’ll be like at Christmas and Thanksgiving each year, years from now when your little fling with him is over. Ask yourself what it’ll be like always having to see him. He’s practically family, Cami. He’s like your stepbrother.”

  “It’s not just him. We’ve just grown apart. This is what happens sometimes.”

  Luke doesn’t say anything.

  “Look,” I say. “I’ve never broken up with anyone before—”

  “Yeah? Well you’re doing just fine.”

  “What I was going to say is that I’m sorry if I was too cruel or too honest.”

  “Just go.”

  “Luke...”

  “Leave!”

  I hurry back to my 4Runner and drive home in tears. I go inside and literally run into Estella.

  “Whoa,” she says.

  “Sorry.”

  “You okay?”

  “No. Can you call me in sick?”

  “Okay,” she says after hesitating a moment. “If you want.”

  I go up to the alcove. Less than twenty minutes later, Estella comes up to me. “Cami?”

  My face is buried in my pillow. “What.”


  “Your dad says he really needs you to come in to work today. He said to tell you he’s one short on the hot line.”

  I sit up and wipe my eyes. “Who’s not coming in?”

  “Luke,” she says. “Your father said he just called and quit.”

  I close my eyes, tears smarting the backs of them. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Estella leaves, and I get my phone and call Luke.

  “What is it?” he demands.

  “You don’t have to quit. I will.”

  “Please, don’t make me laugh.”

  He’s right. I’m not really willing to leave the restaurant now. “I’ll work out a schedule with Dad where you don’t have to see me,” I offer instead.

  “Where I don’t have to see you? You work every day but Sunday. You want me to work only on Sunday?”

  “Look, I’m trying to—”

  “I don’t need your help! I’m only still in town for you, did you know that? That if it wasn’t for you I’d have left for New York by now?”

  “No, you never told me.”

  “Look, I can’t talk to you. I’m too mad at you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Neither of us hangs up the phone. “Never mind that I wanted to take you to the prom and see you graduate. Never mind that I wanted to be your first and only. And you said you loved me. And I never feel as happy as when you sneak out to see me. And I never feel as lucky as when I catch you stealing glances at me at work.”

  His words make me sad—but not heartbroken enough to go rushing back to him. And the realization of this, that I’m not more deeply moved by this, is upsetting. “I’m sorry,” I say again. “It’s just that I’ve changed, and—”

  He hangs up on me.

  And I cry.

  Eventually, I get my uniform on and go downstairs. Estella is waiting there and watching me. “I broke up with Luke. I’m a terrible person.”

  “No.” She gives me a hug—and actually, it’s kind of nice. “This is what happens. And he should have known. There were signs.”

  “There were?”

  “Sure,” she says. “You’d stopped inviting him over. It was almost like you were avoiding him.”

  I give a heavy sigh. “No, I’m pretty sure I completely blindsided him. And he loved me.”

  She kisses my forehead and then releases me. “I promise Luke will be as good as new in a month or two. He’s so handsome there won’t be any shortage of girls he can find on the rebound.”

  “Hmph.”

  I catch a glimpse of Julian, in his wheelchair, hiding around the corner from where we are in the front hallway.

  “I’ve got to go,” I say, turning back to Estella. “Here’s hoping I don’t pass out.”

  “Drink enough water. And eat.”

  I nod and thank her and she heads for the kitchen. Once she’s out of sight, I look over at Julian. He’s watching me worriedly.

  I go over to him—and my lower lip trembles.

  “I...” He stops midsentence.

  I glance down at him.

  He seems upset. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s been coming for a long time now.”

  “You can’t skip work today?”

  “No, Dad needs me.” I touch my damp eyes and move in closer still.

  “This is my fault,” he says under his breath.

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “It is.” He purses his lips and looks at the kitchen doorway. “You’d better go.”

  Um. Okay.

  I call Taryn as soon as I’m out of the driveway.

  “So, did you do it?” she asks.

  “Yeah. It was awful.”

  “No surprise there.”

  “He seemed really upset,” I tell her. “I mean like, heartbroken.”

  “He’ll be fine. He had to have seen it coming, Cami.”

  “He knew it was because of Julian, T. He knew.”

  “Well, he saw that coming, too.”

  “I feel like such a bitch.”

  “Babe, it couldn’t be helped. You just didn’t feel the same way about him anymore. It happens.”

  “He quit his job.”

  “He probably has other plans in mind.”

  “He does. But I just feel guilty.”

  “Don’t. He wasn’t the one for you, babe. You knew it on some level all along. That’s why you kept putting him off with the sex, with seeing him...”

  “Yeah, let’s talk about something else. Something happier. How’s it going with you? Anyone new yet?”

  “Not yet. Just acting and school—and no boyfriend.”

  “That’s not like you.” I can’t honestly remember the last time she’s gone more than a month without a boyfriend.

  “Yeah, well I’ve already dated all the guys in our class that I find interesting, and I haven’t met anyone else.”

  “I’m sure something will develop soon. Hey, Taryn, I’d better go. I have to calm down for work.”

  “Right. Text me later.”

  I finish the drive, and go on in to the restaurant. Dad comes over to me while I’m chopping onions. And crying from them. “Estella said you broke up with Luke?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It was the right choice.”

  “You think?” I look at Dad. My eyes are red twice over now, from the onions and Luke.

  “Definitely. He wasn’t smart or talented enough for you. You’ve been losing interest in him for some time now.”

  “Everyone is saying that. Is it bad?”

  “No. That’s how it works. Especially at your age.” He touches my cheek. It’s very unusual for him to do this even at home, let alone at work. “Don’t be too upset.”

  I nod.

  Dad shakes his head. “She goes right for the onions.”

  I work the rest of Luke’s shift, and then when it quiets down around nine that night, I decide to text him:

  I just want to say how glad I am that you were my first boyfriend. You are sweet and talented and caring, and you will always mean a lot to me.

  Hours later, when I’m done with work and about to go home, I get this response:

  Go to hell.

  The text makes me cry. This is a guy I was intimate with. He was the first guy I ever went beyond kissing with, the only boyfriend I’ve ever had. Be my girlfriend, he whispered between kisses to me. I spent his eighteenth birthday with him, went to his prom and graduation and when all his friends went off to college, I was the one who stayed behind with him.

  As I shut the engine and get out, I notice the lights are on in Dad’s gym. Since he’s not home yet, I figure Julian is in there again.

  I go over to see if it’s him, and it is. He’s using Dad’s Nautilus machine, in a shirt this time. His crutches are next to him. “How was work?” he asks. He stops using the machine but doesn’t turn to me.

  “Okay. What are you doing out here? You just felt like working out this late at night?”

  “I was also hoping to speak to you.”

  Alone, obviously. I remember how Julian seemed so upset and distant with me before work, and my stomach sinks. Somehow, between this memory and the way he’s not looking at me, I suspect this isn’t good. “About...?”

  “About last night. I know we had a thing....”

  Damn it. He’s turned a little, but still isn’t looking at me. “It was a kiss. Not a thing.”

  “Can I get this out before your dad drives up?”

  “Here, let me save you the trouble,” I say. “You think we should cool it. Because we’re both in the same house, and Estella and Dad are married, and you’re in recovery.”

  Julian doesn’t respond at first. “Yeah.”

  “Fine. Thanks for letting me know. Today especially. I’ve been having such a great day as it is.”

  He looks over at me. Finally. “You can always call Luke back. Say you’ve changed your mind.”

  “Wow, great idea. Hold on. I’ll do it right now.” I hold my hand up like th
ere’s a phone in it and take on the breathy voice of an airhead. “Hello, Luke? Julian just said he doesn’t want me after all, so on second thought...”

  “I never said I didn’t want you,” he interrupts. “But I do think you don’t realize how fucked up I am.”

  Still acting like an airhead, I give him a look of shock and wonder. “You’re fucked up?”

  Julian frowns. “Plus, I’m in your house all the time. I’m older than you. I feel a little bit like I’ve stolen you—”

  “Yes, because I’m a child.”

  “You’re seventeen.”

  “Fine,” I say, hurt. “Let’s forget it. Pretend it never happened.”

  “I’m not saying that. I’m just saying let’s take some time here.”

  “I have to go. It’s time for me to have my midnight bottle and get my diaper changed.” I turn and there’s Dad. Crap. Did he overhear anything?

  “Oh, hi,” I say, as if everything’s fine.

  “Diaper changed?” Dad asks.

  Yikes. “It was nothing. Julian’s just treating me like I’m a baby.”

  “Not to do the same, but shouldn’t you be going to bed?”

  Annoying. Thanks, Dad. “Yeah, that’s where I’m headed. I just saw a light on in here.”

  I scuttle away. Kind of slowly.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I hear Julian tell Dad. “You said I could use the gym, right?”

  “Sure,” Dad says. “Need a spot?”

  Okay, good. Dad isn’t suspicious. I leave them—and make it all the way back up to the alcove before I start to cry. Again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Julian and I avoid each other as much as possible all week. Then the following Tuesday is, once again, family dinner night. No one’s home after school, I’m guessing on account of Julian’s outpatient therapy. I do homework and then start cooking up pretty much whatever I can find. By dinnertime, I hear Estella’s SUV and pull from the oven what I would generously call a grilled vegetable disaster. I open the trash masher to toss it in there.