Breakdown (Crash into Me) (23 page)

For an instant, his smile faltered, and he too took a step back. “You weren’t supposed to like it—not really anyway. I just wanted to scare you enough so that you’d quit all this stupid shit.”

I giggled and leaned against the firebird. “Well, your plan backfired, because I liked it, and if you aren’t careful, I might start to like you too.”

William narrowed his eyes at me and stepped forward. I was completely cornered in. “You just like the rush.”

“And you,” I admitted quietly and looked away. “I like you too.”

“There are other ways to get a rush, you know?” Despite the fact that he didn’t pressure me to look at him, I got the sense he wanted me to. Since one of the last things I wanted to do was disappoint him, I obeyed the silent request. “Things you can do other than stealing cars and hurting yourself.” Testing the waters, he took a step towards me again.

“Like drugs?”

“No, Jumper,” he laughed. “Not drugs. More natural things…”

Remembering one of our first conversations, I went for the smart-ass approach. “Funny, I didn’t picture you for an all-natural kind of guy.”

“You’d be surprised, Jumper.”

Then he closed the distance between us.

Chapter Fourteen

It started out simply enough; William’s lips just brushing over mine. But when I gasped and he tried to pull away, my hands clutched to the back of his arms and attempted to keep him with me. Accepting this as permission, I felt him relax before I closed my eyes and did the same. But now that we both had our hands free they seemed to be everywhere. I used mine to work through his hair, flinging off his beanie in some undesirable place and as far down his back as I could manage. While he gently bit the end of my lower lip, William worked his thumbs into my lower back, relieving tension there I didn’t even know I had.

Unfortunately, we had to separate, faces smiling and arms still tangled around each other. I counted the breaths I took and kept my eyes shut, enjoying the sound of William’s breathing as he leaned into the crook of my neck.

“I hate you break it to you, Jumper…” His hand skimmed across my wrist, making me shiver. “But I think you might be an adrenaline junkie.”

“Yeah.” No longer afraid and feeling braver than I had in my life, I pushed back on the firebird until I was sitting on its hood. When I was semi-comfortable I wrapped my legs around him to keep him close. “I think I might be too.”

This time I was the one who initiated the kissing.

We ran out of breath at the same time, pulling away from each other but still holding on to one another as though our lives depended on it.

“I-I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay—”

“No!” William released me completely, gently untangling his hands from my hair and turning his back on me. “No, it isn’t. I-I should take you back now.”

I swallowed hard and reminded myself to breathe. I was unsure where his frustration was coming from and how I should feel myself, so I just looked away.

“Sure.” I crossed my arms over myself and sighed. “If you say so.”

After our unexpected make-out session, and with encouragement from my student counselor, I spent the next day filling out applications for culinary school, only slightly disappointed that I didn’t hear from William. Yet when the next day came and went, I started to get worried—worried about him, worried about us, and though his behavior had made it abundantly clear that kissing me was on a whim, my anxiety continued on.

What if he didn’t want to be friends with me anymore?

Just like William had predicted, I had felt an intense rush when he kissed me. So much so that I continued to experience little twinges of it two days later just at the memory of his lips on mine. More than that, I felt a surge of emotion when we kissed, a flash flood of something that made me excited, scared, happy and confused all at once. Even before, when I thought I was in love, kissing had never felt that good, that natural.

I didn’t want to, but I compared William’s kisses to the memories of the only other ones I had experienced. Sloppy and rushed, the first few times I had been kissed had been in front of
his
friends, always in the hallways of school, or just outside in the student parking lot. And while I had been willing to practice every time we were alone on his parent’s couch,
his
technique had never gotten any better, remaining slobbery and ill-placed right up until the end.

By comparison, William was an excellent kisser—gentle but rough all at once.

Quickly, I became distracted by the memory, consumed and confused by all the burning questions that lingered in my mind. I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out what I had done wrong, if I had done anything wrong. If I hadn’t done anything wrong, though, then why did William look so sad when we separated at my house, saying nothing except a soft goodbye in a harsh whisper?

Without even trying, I could accept that he regretted kissing me, that it had been an act of kindness that I had taken too far in repeating. But as the second day turned into the third and then the forth, I knew that I was going to have a hard time letting him out of my life completely. No, I knew going cold turkey from William O’Reilly wasn’t going to be an option for me. Still, the more I thought about it, the more confused I became about it. Though William regretted kissing me, he had been kind to me, decent and genuine since the night we met, and if he hadn’t wanted to continue being my friend then why would he have taken such a risk by letting me into his life to begin with?

Maybe, I thought, he no longer wanted me around at all. Hadn’t he told me I wasn’t supposed to enjoy stealing with him as much as he did? That he was trying to scare me out of it? What if he was trying to drive me away because I couldn’t take a hint? Had he only kissed me to make me go away? To come on to me in the hopes that I would be disgusted by his ego? It wasn’t too difficult to imagine he had gotten tired of trying to be nice to me. I tried to remember whether or not I had told him that I was talking to a counselor. If William believed he had successfully pawned me off, was his responsibility towards me over? 

I did my best to dismiss the thought, but was unsuccessful and ended up floundering in a brief wave of depression before I forced myself to stop wallowing, and do something about it. After a reprieve from the cloud that hung over me I wasn’t going to give into it again. William might not have been willing to talk to me anymore, but maybe I could find someone who did.

Despite Tabby’s driving and the despicable music on the radio, we managed to get to The Crossings at South Corona in one piece. Even as we explored the parking lot for an open space, however, I felt the question of William’s kiss dangling over me, teasing me like the introduction to a song.

“It’s too bad about the weather.” Tabby stopped and flipped up her sunglasses before staring up at the sky ceiling just inside the mall. Today she was wearing all black with rhinestones in her fedora and belt. And as usual, my appearance paled in comparison to her. “You would love the flea market in Chino.”

“Yeah.” Like her, I glanced up towards the skylight, admiring how dark the clouds were. For an instant, I considered texting William and asking him what he thought of it, but then I remembered he hadn’t texted me in nearly a week and my heart sank. “It’s too bad.”

“Either way, though, I’m glad you called.” She stopped and sighed again, running her hand over a display of scarves at a kiosk. “I’ve had my head in the books all day and really needed a break.”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I did too.”

“You said you were a business major, right?” She scoffed and looked away. “I’m surprised you don’t fall asleep every time you go to study.”

I shrugged and followed her into a store that blasted heavy metal music. “Yeah, sometimes I do, but I’ve applied for some culinary school…”

“Oh yeah?” Interested for the first time, Tabby looked up from a rack of clothes with one of her eyebrows straight up. “Billy says you’re a crazy good pastry chef.”

I dropped the hanger in my hand, floundering to pick it up before anyone else in the store noticed. “H-he does?”

Tabby just laughed. “Billy talks about you constantly.”

“What?” I shoved the clothes on the rack away from me and stared. “Are you screwing with me?”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Tabby abandoned the rack of clothes and went for a shelf of half sweaters. “I know that you live in a big house, I know that your parents are assholes, I know that purple is your favorite color—” She cited each fact with one of her fingers as if trying to recite them from memory.

It had never occurred to me before that William talked about me with his friends. Now that I knew he did, however, I felt flattered.  “Wow, I never thought…” I shook my head of it. “Really?”

She scoffed before refocusing her attention on a display of colorful wigs. “Are you kidding? He came over the other day beside himself and all flustered. I don’t know what you did to get him all riled up, but Eggs finally gave up trying to calm him down and eventually just poured him a drink.”

The last time I had seen William had been the night of our kiss. Why, however, that made him so upset I still didn’t understand.

“What did he talk about?” I asked.

Tabby shrugged. “Eggs kind of shooed me out of the room, but I did hear something about his sister and mistakes—”

I cut her off with a pull on her arm. “His sister? Which one?”

“The oldest one I think, Bridget? Eggs told me she threw herself off a clock tower because of some guy who didn’t want her.”

So William had a sister who committed suicide, a sister named Bridget who had chosen to take the flight off a clock tower instead of a bridge that overlooked concrete. Maybe she too was trying to die in a passive aggressive way, to be ironic when she ended herself. Vaguely, I wondered if she had left a note.

More than that, I wondered if William looked at me and thought of her.

I knew I had to see him, knew I would try even if William didn’t want to see me. At the root of my heart I had a hard time believing that he wouldn’t. Even if I did nothing but make him feel obligation and brotherly love, I wanted to hear it from his own mouth. I deserved that much closure and I knew it.

During the day, the garage looked considerably different. Instead of the show room being open, the mechanical metal wall was closed off so that I could only get in from the back via the employee entrance. There, bright yellow barrels and dirty toolboxes were lined up against the wall, easily seen under the hum of fluorescent lights. Cars suspended in mid-air by lifts also seemed to hum, why, exactly, I had no idea. On a ladder, boot heavy feet moved up and down. Behind bright welding sparks, I thought I saw some movement, but couldn’t be sure. I clutched at the Tupperware in my hands. Cupcakes? What was I thinking? Still, they somehow seemed less juvenile than cookies shaped like cars, and without baked goods as a crutch I wasn’t sure I had a legitimate reason to be there at all.  

“Is that you, Jumper?”