His Adam’s apple hopped up and down. “No. It’s good. We should talk about it. I want to. But in my truck?”
I waved my hands around. “I happen to find this truck very romantic. We’ve had many very romantic moments in here.” I waggled my eyebrows and shook my shoulders.
Jake laughed, but it was a nervous, quick sound that ended with a lecture before it ever really got going. “Bren, it’s a big deal. It’s important to me that it’s nice for you.”
Then I remembered Mom’s convention. “Hey! I have the house to myself next weekend.”
“Oh.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Alright,” he said finally. “Next weekend then.”
“Only if you want to!” The weirdness factor wrestled with the anticipation factor…which really just added to the overall weirdness.
“I do!” He jumped the words with too quick a start, and we both went completely quiet, not sure what topic of conversation could follow up planning a date to have sex.
It felt totally, completely weird to actually set aside a date for something that was usually so spontaneous.
Like too spontaneous.
I mean, there was usually a hot-and-bothered, rolling-on-the-sheets, forgot-the-condom scenario when you were young and lusty. Right? Did people plan this stuff?
I felt a little ripple of anticipation course through me when I imagined the night. I knew, without a single doubt, that I wanted to do this and I wanted it to be with Jake. We would be safe and it would be good. I knew it would be.
Jake didn’t say anything, just sat kind of stiff and concentrated on the road.
“Jake?” I ventured.
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice way too loud and eager.
“We don’t have to. Seriously. We don’t. If this freaks you out, if you want to wait, I really get it, and I don’t want this to be some weird thing, okay?” I reached over and squeezed the back of his neck right in that place that made him roll his shoulders and smile. He didn’t even roll his shoulders and smile. Jake was obviously freaking out about it.
“I know that.” He grabbed the steering wheel like we were sinking on the Titanic and the steering wheel was his lifesaver. “I really want to. I’m just nervous.”
“You’ve had lots of practice,” I joked. Whoa, wrong joke. Jake’s mouth shriveled to a tight, white line, and he shook his head a little.
“No I haven’t.” He gritted the words out.
“Sorry. That was a bad joke.” Although what I had said was mostly true, I never said it with the intention of hurting his feelings.
“You really don’t get it, Brenna.” The words weren’t snappy or angry. He was just telling me, giving me the facts. “I’ve done it so many times and it meant nothing. It’s hard to have all of your experiences with something be kind of crap. I mean, it makes me nervous.”
“Oh,” I said dumbly. We had had versions of this conversation before, but we had never been about to actually have sex when we talked about it. “Alright. I get that. But you shouldn’t be nervous. It will be different because it will be you and me. That’s all that matters, right?”
“I think so. I mean, that makes sense. I just want it to be really special for you.” He added, “And me.”
I realized that the whole experience was probably coming with a lot of pressure for Jake; more than I had really understood.
I went back to my previous mantra of comforting insistence. “We don’t have to. If you’re not ready, I’m not ready. No big deal.”
There was a long pause that was full of things he wanted to say but wasn’t saying. I could feel the nervous tension, like a motor running too fast, just on the verge of blowing. All I had to do was be patient and wait. Before I knew it, he was talking, saying all the things I knew he really didn’t want to say. “This winter,” he said, his words stilted, “when I did it with Nikki, I was so pissed at you--”
“I know.” I cut in to let him know that I did know, but mostly I really didn’t want to think about that time or what he had done with her or why, just like he didn’t want to think about my brief time dating Saxon. But this was all tangled up in our decision to have sex, so I owed it to him to think about it and talk about it. Much as it sucked.
“When it happened this winter,” he continued, his words marching on with grim determination, “she and I didn’t connect or anything. I mean, she wanted to more than I did, and I just did it, I don’t know, like to get back at you I guess. It made no sense. And it felt like shit. Again. So, it still makes me kind of freaked out, Bren.”
A huge sigh flipped out before I could stop it. There was no big, perfect pink eraser to run over all our screw-ups. Even if there was, I knew from years of sketching that even the best erasers leave faint traces of the marks you’d made underneath. Our histories just weren’t made to be ignored or run away from. “I know,” I said, though, again, I didn’t reallyknow.
“You have a lot of expectations.” His voice was prayer-in-confessional quiet.
“No I don’t.” I shook my head. “Just you and me. That’s all, Jake. I know it might be…not perfect. I don’t expect or want perfect. I just want you.”
“I know you,” he insisted, giving me a secret side smile. “You’ve run through this in your head, and I know what you’re imagining. I’m kind of nervous about living up to it all.”
“Logically, there is only evidence supporting you being good.” His smile quirked wider, and I leaned close, my voice husky. “Really, really good.” He laughed a little and blushed. “Extremely good,” I said, just to rub it in a little.
“Thanks, Bren,” he said and finally, finally his shoulders relaxed a little. “I take it seriously.”
I rolled my eyes a little. He had this way of talking about the fact that I was a virgin that reminded me of an old lady handling her best china. “Jake, it’s going to happen at some point! This isn’t medieval times. I want it to be with you.”
“Alright.” He took off his cap and ran a hand through his hair before he put it back on. “Do you mind if I flip topics? I’m not trying to get out of talking about it with you.”
“Yeah, sure,” I laughed. “Okay, what’s up?”
“I talked to my…dad. To Ron Kelly.” It was so weird that he was using his step-dad’s full name to identify him, but how else was I supposed to know what ‘dad’ meant after this crazy summer? “I’m signed up for Share Time.”
“Jake!” Immediately I started playing out the year in my head, loving the idea of me and Jake, classes together every day; I had been pushing him towards it for months, and now it was really going to happen. “Jake that’s great news! I’m so happy for you!”
“And Saxon talked to you about what he’s doing?” Jake voice tread around that topic like he was walking over a frozen lake, half sure the ice was about to crack under him.
“Um, no.” I was suddenly sure that I didn’t really want to know.
If Saxon didn’t mention it to me, there was probably a reason. Like he didn’t want to tell me something I didn’t want to hear. I realized now why he looked so serious and worried in the parking lot.
There was something he was too chicken to tell me.
“Oh. I thought he might have told you. Before.” Jake looked a little uncomfortable, like he wasn’t sure if it was his news to tell. Extra bad.
“What’s up, Jake?” As bad as the news could be, it couldn’t possibly be worse than this suspense. “You two are going to be okay at Frankford together, right? There’s not going to be any big kick-down fight or anything stupid like that.”
“Nope. And that’s a guarantee.” Jake stomped through the ice of his secret. “Bren, Saxon isn’t doing his senior year at Frankford.”
I felt like I’d plunged into frigid water.