Marney in the Middle

Chapter 20: Change of Mind

Donny smiles as I approach on bare feet and wobbly knees. The ground seems to teeter as I progress, but I try to keep my plan in mind. Just be honest. Well, sort of honest. Tell him we shouldn't have kissed, that he's cute and in another lifetime.. no, wait, that's cheesy. This isn't a romance novel. This is high school; this is a game. Keep it simple.

I nod inwardly.

"There you are," he says in his rough voice that makes my stomach flutter.

I catch my gaze lingering on his lips and force myself to look into his eyes. Be stern; be.. his eyes are so pretty. Like the ocean depths. A blue unlike Malcolm's that I could get lost in. Where Malcolm's blue is the surface, Donny's is thousands of leagues beneath.

Why don't you just stick to the plan and leave bad metaphors to the poets, mmk?

Right.

"Thought I lost you."

He takes me by the hand when I'm within reach and helps me settle onto the picnic table. It's still cold and mushy, causing me to shiver. He steps an inch closer and smiles down at me. Bringing my hand up, he inspects where the splinter was. Pink and blood-stained, the area is covered up with a Lego-themed Band-Aid.

"We—he patched it up," I mumble as he lightly presses his lips against it. I gulp; remember the plan. "Um, so, about that—"

"That?" He hands me a red cup while taking a sip from a second one.

This is what got me in trouble to begin with. Messed with my judgement. Or, wait, did it? I'd already agreed to do rule number whatever prior to drinking. So maybe one more won't hurt. It does keep me warm. I say 'thanks' and take a drink. Still sweet. It washes through me, warming every inch as it does.

Donny takes another a step closer, lowering his cup and letting my knees press lightly into his lower abdomen. I don't look at his face as I tug at the hem of my dress.

"You were saying," he asks in a light tone, trailing his fingers along my bare arm. It sends tingles across my skin that seem to connect in my lower stomach with a tense flutter.

"Right." I shrug him away in a fashion I hope isn't obvious. He doesn't comment on it. "So, about before—"

"You know, that's an awfully pretty dress." He takes a step back to appraise me. Looking me up and down with exaggerated head movements, he arches an eyebrow and smiles. "Your legs look great."

Setting down the cup, I smile despite myself. "That's what I said!" I lift the hem and inspect the thin charcoal grey material. "I mean, thanks."

Donny lets out a chuckle that coalesces with a throaty sound of approval. Something like a purr and a moan in one.

I lower the hem of my dress to inspect his expression. His eyes are trained on my lap; I lower the hem further to see what he's looking at and blanch. My inner thighs all the way up to my baby blue bikini briefs are visible.

"Oh," I mumble and drop the bottom of my dress as fast as possible. "Oh, wow, that's so embarrassing. I really didn't mean to..."

Donny sets his cup down so he can trail his fingers up both of my knees, only slowing when they reach my inner thighs. The spins return as I'm overcome with a sheet of intense heat. He keeps eye contact, never blinking or looking down. His mouth is upturned into a small smile.

"Don't be embarrassed."

His left hand progresses further than his right, fingers tracing along the edge of my panties as I gulp.

"Uuh," I try to form words but words fail me. My breath is shallow. He doesn't go further, the tips of his fingers moving back and forth. I clear my throat, "No," I say in a small, almost inaudible voice.

He hears me. Immediately his hands are up as if he's being robbed. "'No' it is."

Heat clings to my cheeks as I take a deep breath. "Sorry," I mumble.

He shakes his head, "For?"

I shrug and glance at my knees. Their white splotched from cold and before. So are my thighs. My mind latches onto his phantom touch, forcing me to concentrate it away. "You're probably disappointed."

"Nah," he says and waves a dismissive hand. Taking up his cup, he takes a long drink while watching me over its rim. After he lowers it, he smiles. "You were saying?"

The cogs in my mind whir and sputter against one another. I was saying... I can't recall. My minds a flurry with too many other thoughts to think straight. Glancing at the house's backdoor, I catch both of the Wilkerson brothers in the kitchen. They're not paying attention to us. Busy arguing – shouting, really – with their backs to us.

A drop of anger infects the flurry in my mind as I squint at them. I came out here to tell Donny no more, that it was a mistake, so the guy I'm (what's an acceptable term?) pre-dating doesn't get his feelings smooshed, but he's too busy wrapped up in his own thing to even care that I'm gone.

Fine.

I grab the red cup still perched on the picnic table beside me and drink its entirety in one gulp. Maybe Toria's way is the right way and maybe it isn't – but it sure as hell beats being ignored.

I chuck the cup away from me, causing Donny to frown. The expression is gone in an instant. "Kiss me."

The kiss is hard, fast and sweet. He's into it. His hands run up my outer thighs to grip my sides, pulling me to the edge of the picnic table and settling himself between my legs.

This is me now. Might as well embrace it.