The Feel of Water

Twelve - The Longest Night

I press my lips together, waiting for him to say something. Wanting to take full advantage of our situation, I run my hand through his hair then run my other down his chest. I hope I never forget what this feels like.

"Dani, I'm not sure you're-"

"Just say okay," I mumble, refusing to let my alcoholic numbing get in the way of things. My eyes pour into his, revealing my willingness. "I don't want to play games. I know what I want."

It's not every day that you have a shot with a guy like Sean Donovan. I know what teenage girls do; I hear about it all the time as they whisper in class or gossip in the bathrooms. They don't act like I do. They don't push everyone away-they let everyone in. They take chances, risks. They drink too much sometimes, and they take substances they probably shouldn't, and they act on their desires. It's how girls like Jen Bridges-like Emilie-reign over everyone else. They have power. There's power in freedom, in no longer caring. They do want they want, and somehow, they disregard consequences as if they're untouchable. The consequences usually come anyway, but do I care? Right now, at this moment, I don't.

Any consequence is worth a moment with him.

"You're going to kill me when you wake up tomorrow," he mutters, referencing my impending regret.

"I don't think so. Not this time."

He looks at me, really looks at me, waiting for me to crack. But I don't. I want it too much to let nerves or insecurities get in my way. "I'll promise," I whisper, "if it will make you feel better."

"Dani?" Allison's voice calls. "Dani? Where'd you go?"

My jaw clenches. I swiftly swipe the empty beer bottle from the small table beside us and get up from his lap. "I'll meet you in the car," I say, giving him no time to argue over my sanity. Before I slip away to find Allison, he stands up. I turn to him but his lips are already passionately pressing against my own. He pulls back, rests his forehead on my own, then cooly heads for the door, keys swinging on his finger.

I take a breathe then resume, clearing all signs of lust from my face as I enter the kitchen. "Hey, sorry, I'm here."

She jumps from behind the counter. "Oh, great! You haven't happened to see Sean, have you?"

"We were actually talking in the living room. He had to head home, though."

"Any interesting conversation?"

I shrug. "Just mindless, you know. Nothing crazy. How's Cameron?"

"He's sick, laying on the patio furniture out back. Nick and Andre are with him. Jalen headed home. I'm sure I'll be stuck looking after him all night. Nick is half asleep on the chair and I'm pretty sure Andre passed out on the coffee table."

"Damn, Allison, I would love to stay and help you babysit a sick Cameron, but Emilie called and-"

"No, no," she brushes me off, "it's fine. I'll be fine. You go see Emilie."

"Are you sure?"

She nods. "Yeah. I'll just stare at Nick's sleeping face. He just looks so cute when he's asleep."

"Right, well, I'm going to go grab my stuff from upstairs. I'll leave your swimsuit in the laundry room."

"Are you okay walking home? Maybe I can drive you-do you think the boys can manage for a few minutes?"

"Oh, no, I'll be fine. You stay with Cameron. I'll see you at school Tuesday, okay?"

Allison smiles. "Yeah, and thanks for staying with me. I was way less nervous with you here."