I hear her words, but I actually feel them more. They seep into me in a way that doesn’t happen when Todd says it. I just can’t see past missing him. With Blythe, it makes sense, though. I have been saying ‘one step at time,’ but I need to actually live it. I feel tears starting to well up.
“Looks like we’ve got company.”
I glance in the direction of her gaze to see Gretchen bouncing up to Ryan’s car. How is it possible that she is perky even at six forty-five?
“Thanks, Blythe.” I quickly wipe my eyes to hide any emotional evidence as I roll down the window.
“Good morning!” Gretchen almost sings. It’s as if everything she says is a cheer.
“Is it?” Blythe asks.
“Oh, come on, it’s exciting, whatever the boys are up to.” Gretchen beams. She is so genuinely enthusiastic it’s a little contagious.
Within the next five seconds, all three of our phones buzz.
“Looks like they’re ready.” Gretchen bounces. I swear she is about to break into a cheer.
The next thing I know, the three of us are standing outside of the boys’ locker room. The halls are mostly empty with only a few teachers straggling in, but they seem oblivious.
Once Gretch follows directions and texts them, the door slowly opens, and standing there with the biggest grins are all three boys, covered from head to toe in gold glitter body paint. I literally mean covered. Even their hair is gold and full of glitter. They are all wearing their gold spandex football pants, but other than that, every inch of them is covered in golden glitter.
“Wow,” we all say almost in unison after what feels like hours.
“You guys have been busy,” Blythe states, thankfully breaking the awkward silence.
Brian peeks his head out into the hallway and looks both ways, noting it’s empty at the moment.
“Come with us.” He grabs Blythe’s hand, and the rest of us follow. We’re now standing inside the boys’ locker room, breaking pretty much every rule the school has.
I look around and take it in, finding it looks like I have always pictured: damp, dingy, and it smells like boys. It’s full of metal lockers; long, wood benches; and towels that were white at one point in their towel lives. This would not be a good place to be a towel. On second thought, it could be a very good place.
“This is somewhere you’ve never been before.” Todd smiles.
“Not actually true for one of them.” Brian grins and pulls Blythe closer, making her giggle.
“Two of them.” Ryan gives Gretchen a seductive look, and I mentally vomit.
Todd’s eyes get bigger as he stares at me. “Well, we have a lot of catching up to do, Ash.” He pulls me closer, and Ryan smacks him on the head.
“What?” Todd says with a laugh.
“Brother. Standing right here.” Ryan gives him a don’t-even-think-about-it look.
Todd shrugs. “Sorry.” His golden fingers intertwine with mine as he kisses my neck. “Sorry again.” He gives Ryan his best innocent smile. He knows Ryan hates it, but it never stops him, and he’s definitely not sorry.
“Okay. Why are we here?” Blythe cuts right to the chase.
“To paint.” Brian holds up a container of black body paint. “With your hands.” He gives Blythe a wicked smile.
I start to feel a little uncomfortable and also like this isn’t the first time they have done this.
“Oh, fun!” Gretchen says two octaves higher than any human ever should.
“Shh,” the guys say in unison as they glance around to make sure nobody new has joined us.
“Time?” Brian asks quickly, as if he’s calling a play on the field.
“Seven twelve,” Ryan answers back just as rapidly.
“We’ve got eight minutes before Coach W. gets here,” Todd says.
I know from the guys that Coach W. is like clockwork with everything he does, and apparently, they know his morning schedule down to a T.
“Okay, we need you to work fast. You paint an E,” Brian says as he hands a jar of paint to Gretch and points to Ryan’s gold glitter covered chest. “You an H,” he instructs as he hands me a jar of black paint, “And you”—he gives Blythe sexy eyes—“an S.”
Suddenly, I feel like I’m in a dirty football huddle.
We all promptly get to work since there is no time to spare. I have to say, touching Todd is one of my favorite things in this world, but painting him is even more enjoyable. My fingers glide over his tone, glitter-covered chest, leaving a wet, black trail wherever they touch.
He automatically tightens his muscles at the unexpected chill of the cool paint caressing his warm skin. I look up at him, our eyes lock, and he gives me his crooked smile. In that moment, I feel like we are alone. I forget that Ryan is here or that we are standing in the middle of the boys’ locker room. It’s just us, doing something ridiculous yet extremely intimate. I feel so close to him, and I know he feels the same way. His look says it all. We don’t need to speak; we just know.
“Let’s go, Taylor. What are you waiting for?” Brian’s voice jerks me out of my moment with Todd.
Coming back to reality, I realize that everyone else is done, and I only have one third of my H done.
Todd gives me a knowing smile.
“Sorry,” I mutter as I quickly slide my fingers back into the paint and then across the contours of his chest to finish my letter.
“It’s a little crooked, Ash Bug,” Ryan says, critiquing my work with a laugh.
I give him a look. “That’s what happens when you rush artistic genius.”
“It’s perfect,” Todd says as he admires my work from above. Thankfully, he can’t really see it, because Ryan is right; it’s totally crooked.
“Okay, let’s go. You girls need to leave,” Brian says, never losing sight of the goal. I guess that’s what makes him such a great quarterback. “And we need to hide the evidence,” he says to the guys. “Bye, I love you,” he says to Blythe quickly and as if it’s habit.
I give Todd a quick glance. Brian is in such work mode I don’t even think he realizes what he just said.
They rush to usher us out, of course checking the hallway before we enter the rest of the unknowing student body. Everyone is still in zombie-like mode, walking to their lockers; they have no idea what they are about to witness when the boys emerge from the locker room.
“Has he said that before?” I whisper to Blythe.
“No,” she answers with shock-filled eyes.
Gretch may have missed the exchange, but it’s clear Blythe didn’t.
“Wow,” I say with a smile. “He loves you.”
“He was in a rush,” Blythe quickly dismisses it.
I give her a smile. “He said it.”
She rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t lose her smile, and I know she’s happy.
We just had a very interesting, surprisingly intimate morning, and the look that passes between the three of us as we all part ways sums it up perfectly.
“See ya at lunch,” I say as we are suddenly thrust back into life-as-usual.
As I make my way to the sophomore hallway, and approach my locker, I announce, “Prepare yourselves.”
Sid and Shane are so use to Spirit Week and the boys doing insane things that they go on with putting books in their lockers, unfazed.
“Let’s just say they’ve topped even themselves,” I continue.
“Oh, yeah?” Shane comments without any interest being piqued. “Looks like you’re full of evidence.” He gestures to my hands and arms.
I didn’t realize it, but I’m covered in golden glitter, and my fingers are still black. I start to laugh. I guess the glitter is contagious. “What, this? Just showing school spirit,” I try to play it off.
Sid rolls her eyes with a headshake and a smile. “Uh-huh, sure.”
On those words, we hear hooting and hollering coming from down the hallway, and I immediately know. I don’t even need to turn around, but of course I do.
The world goes into slow motion. If this were a movie, this would be where the entire room freezes as a mysterious breeze blows through the hallway, blowing their perfect hair as they strut in extreme slow motion down the hall. The entire hallway parts for them, leaving a clear path to walk down. But this isn’t a movie; it’s even better because it’s reality.