The Summer of '98 Page 11

  Noah shrugged, standing on the other side of the table while he spun his handles around. “Couldn’t care less about what Anna did. Like I said, I don’t feel like having a girlfriend. Can we drop it?”

  “We can.”

  We didn’t talk for the duration of the game, instead staying focused on hitting the small plastic soccer ball with our designated players. Back and forth, back and forth, the table shook, and my palms were aching by the time Noah finally threw his arms up and claimed victory. There were no surprises there—he’d held the championship between us from the time we were kids. There was some sort of calculation involved in the game; at least, that was what he told me. He said that was how he won. Whether that was true or not, I had no idea, but I liked the fact that he won because he never expected to. Me being the athletic sibling, he used to assume his loss would be inevitable, and being who he was, I expected him to be an insufferable winner. He wasn’t. We surprised each other, and it was always a subtle but tender moment that neither of us ever spoke on. We just accepted it.

  We were onto our third game of air hockey—we preferred air hockey to foosball, it was smoother—when a couple of girls that I vaguely recognized from school sidled up to the table, zeroing in on Noah.

  “Hey, Noah.” The first one leaned her elbows on the edge and watched the puck bouncing between us. She had thick black hair with two bright-pink strands in the front and a tongue piercing that she pinched between her lips.

  “How’s it going, Mel,” he winked and looked at the other girl who was wearing thigh-high socks, combats, and had her blue hair in pigtails. “Ernie. This is my brother Leroy.”

  “We know,” they smiled and waved at me. “You didn’t come to club the other night. We waited up.”

  Noah straightened up and abandoned the game. “I told you I wouldn’t be there. I had to go to Eric’s farewell thing.”

  Mel seemed amused at the mere thought of it as I made my way over to the three of them. She snorted and folded her arms. “You went to that jock gathering. For real? You and Eric don’t even get along.”

  “We get along,” Noah mumbled, but he knew she was right. Eric and Noah were civil and never addressed the obvious distaste for each other. But it was there.

  “What club?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” Noah said.

  “It’s not a club exactly,” Ernie said, twisting a pigtail around her fist. She had an ethereal voice, delicate and dainty as if her octaves floated on air. “It’s just a group of us that hang in Mel’s basement and green out while we talk about the corrupt and unjust movement of antifeminism in political America.”

  I raised a brow at Noah.

  “We don’t always talk about politics,” he said.

  “That’s true,” Mel said, winking at him.

  “We should go out sometime,” Ernie bent over and tugged on the top of her sock. “The four of us. A double date.”

  “I have a girlfriend,” I said.

  Ernie didn’t seem fazed at the brush-off. She shrugged and linked her arm through Mel’s, preparing to leave.

  “We’re gonna go find the girls,” Mel said, sticking her tongue out. She seemed to do that a lot. “See you around, Noah.”

  We watched them leave, and then I looked at Noah, shaking my head.

  “What?” he said.

  “You a regular at these feminist meetings in Mel’s basement?”

  “She’s hot. I went once or twice to score. It worked.”

  “You’re literally the opposite of what those girls are about.”

  “That’s not true,” he said as we started walking away from the table. The timer had run out and we’d been there long enough. “I’m all for women’s rights. I just laid it on a little thick. No harm. You see what I mean, though? I can get all of that and more, and I can do it without guilt if I stay single. You’re missing out.”

  “No, I’m not. I love Ellie. She’s my best friend, the most beautiful girl that I’ve ever met, and losing what I have with her for a bunch of meaningless nights with random girls isn’t worth it to me.”

  He didn’t say anything to that, and we beelined for an empty Pac-Man machine. We spent the rest of the afternoon in the arcade, wasting time on game after game until eventually we decided to head home and get ready for our evenings. Ellie was still out when we got back. I thought about going to get her, but there were still hours before it was dark and I didn’t want to interrupt her girl time.

  “I’m going to make a milk shake,” Noah said when we wandered into the kitchen. He opened the fridge. “Do you want one?”

  “Sure. Chocolate?”

  “Sweet.” He paused, turning around to look at me with the fridge still open. “Thanks for today. For the arcade and paying. It was cool.”

  His sincerity was unexpected, startling me, but I did my best not to show him that. “Yeah, no worries. We should go more often. I forgot how dope the arcade is. Might have to take the girls next time.”

  He flinched but gave me a small nod. “Yeah. Sure.”

  Ellie

  A warm, low light set an ambient mood in the dining area. The stars added to the magic, twinkling outside in the dark-blue sky. Candles flickered in the middle of the table, the pool lights glowing on the other side of the windows, assisting in the overall atmosphere. I laughed quietly to myself, thinking that the food didn’t quite match the romance. But I was excited nonetheless.

  Once again, I counted the contents on the table and hoped that I hadn’t missed anything. “Lettuce, tomatoes, peppers, onion, cheese, carrot, cucumber, sauces. Seasoned chicken, butter chicken, ground beef—”

  I nodded with satisfaction and felt a little bit thrilled that I had been able to follow the instructions that Leroy had written down for me. He’d popped into the kitchen a few times to ask if I needed help, but this was something that I’d wanted to do on my own.

  All we needed before we sat down were some glasses and a cold drink. I strolled back over to the fridge and collected the chilled soda and two cups, calling out for Leroy as I set them out on the table. I could hear his footsteps before he appeared at the entrance a moment later. His smile reached his eyes as he took it all in.

  “I have never cooked an entire meal without setting something on fire before,” I said, standing beside the table. “So I wasn’t kidding about calling for a pizza if this tastes terrible.”

  “It doesn’t smell terrible,” he wandered in farther and assessed it again before his gaze fell back on me. He stood close and raised his hand, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. “It smells good. And you . . . you look gorgeous.”

  My heartbeat sped up at the darkness in his stare. I didn’t want to get distracted before we ate. But he made that difficult.

  Leroy toyed with the hem of my shirt, his fingertips grazing my midriff and his quiet groan almost inaudible, but I heard it, and it made me weak at the knees. “I would love to see your naked body in this light.”

  It was like I had been sucker punched in the gut. But in a good way, however the heck that worked.

  “Food first,” he said and gave me a kiss before he pulled the seat out beside us, gesturing for me to sit.

  He sat down at the head of the table so that we could face one another, but still be next to each other. We chatted about menial subjects as we filled up the wraps on our plate. There was still a hum of desire in the pit of my stomach, making it hard to focus on the food, but I did my best to calm down and push those thoughts away until later.

  I was offered the blessing of a distraction when Leroy finally bit into his burrito. He was unexpressive, a perfect poker face that made it impossible to tell what he was thinking, and the anticipation was almost unbearable.

  After what felt like forever, he finally looked at me and smiled the most adorable grin to date. “Best burritos I’ve ever had.”

  “You
don’t have to lie,” I teased. “Just as long as they’re edible, I’m happy.”

  “No, I mean it,” he said. “I haven’t had them like this before and they’re great. You did so damn well, babe.”

  I loved how he directed the word babe at me. How he managed to make it sound loving and hot at the same time. “Thank you.”

  He was right. The food wasn’t bad at all, and I was proud of myself. Leroy was helpful when it was time to clean up and we both moved around the kitchen as we conversed, washed the dishes, and tidied up. There was no mistaking the tension in the room, though. It was so thick, the buildup of the evening was coming to its climax—pun intended—and I could feel the desire radiating through me.

  It was amazing to me that we didn’t have to touch, we didn’t even need to look at each other and I was blanketed by sexual tension that was begging to be relieved. My heart hammered at the mere knowledge that he was in the room, an arm’s length from my touch.

  “Thank you for dinner, Ellie,” Leroy said, intertwining our fingers as he leaned his butt against the countertop and pulled me into him. On instinct, my hands clasped behind his neck and I gazed up at his profile.

  He looked exquisite in the glow of the candles. A flattering shadow was cast on his sun-kissed cheeks and I had the urge to kiss his sharp jaw and taste his soft lips. His brows pulled together as he stared down at me. It wasn’t in frustration or confusion; it was a lust-infused gaze and it made me wobble in his hold.

  “Would you like to—play a board game or something?” I asked. Not because I wanted to play a board game. More because I didn’t know how to proceed. I wasn’t experienced with just coming out with what I wanted.

  His strong hands had a tight hold on my waist. It was such a supportive and sensual hold, almost my entire middle was encircled. “No, Els. I don’t want to play a board game.” His eyes settled on my mouth. “I want to play with you.”

  I would have gasped, except his lips found mine and his hands wound themselves in the hair at the back of my head. He pushed his tongue into my mouth, not wasting a moment. I leaned farther into him, his arousal pressed hard against my lower abdomen, his hand pulled my hair with tugs that didn’t hurt but were libidinous to the core. His other hand squeezed my waist and slid down, gliding over my butt before he squeezed and slammed me against his crotch.

  “What do you want me to do to you, Ellie?” he mumbled with a gravelly voice as he pulled my hair so that my head tipped back, and I stared up at the ceiling. He dragged his mouth down, nipping, sucking, licking my throat.

  “Touch me,” I gasped. I barely recognized myself. I sounded so sultry and seductive, not to mention confident. But his touch was euphoric, and I was losing a sense of self, instead gaining a sexier side that I wanted to embrace.

  He pulled my face back to him and kissed me as his hand moved up the length of my torso. He gripped the neck of my tank top, easily pulling the off-the-shoulder garment down so that my chest was exposed to him. His hands were like magic. His fingertips were powerful but articulate and I was coming undone.

  I was on the brink, a scream developing, an earth-shattering release begging to be granted. But before I reached that point, he spun us around so that I was leaning against the countertop. The sound of the telephone started ringing, piercing the quiet with an unwanted distraction. “Just ignore it,” Leroy ordered when I stiffened at the sound. I thought that it might have been hard to continue with its shrill ring surrounding us, but he was quick to distract me with his hands.

  Until it started again. The ringing was relentless. It would pause for a moment before it began again and Leroy paused, resting his head on my shoulder as he took a deep, frustrated breath. He stormed over to the telephone.

  “What?!” he snapped, his shoulders rising and falling with his anger. He listened for a few moments, and when his expression became more serious, I straightened up and pulled my tank top up. Whoever was on the phone spoke with panic. He leaned on the wall. “You have got to be fucking kidding me, Noah.”

  I watched with piqued interest.

  “I am so tempted to leave you there and let you deal with it. I was in the middle of something.”

  It was brief, but I saw the way he flinched with a satisfied look before he was back to big brother mode.

  “Fine,” he said. “I’m coming. But you’d better believe that I’m about to spend the next month cockblocking the fuck out of you.”

  Leroy slammed the phone back on its base and immediately moved to the table and began blowing out the candles, descending us into darkness. The glow of the moon and pool lights outside allowed enough luminescence to see his profile as he stretched out and offered me his hand, waiting with little patience. “I’m sorry, Ellie,” he said. “I have to go and help Noah. Although it’s the last thing that I want to be doing.”

  “What happened?” I asked. He opened the front door and locked it behind us.

  “He’s locked in a girl’s spare bedroom because her father caught them having sex and now, he’s waiting with a baseball bat so that he can kill him.”

  I waited for him to laugh, or tell me that he was joking. But he remained stone-faced as we got into the car and peeled out of the driveway. I was equal parts confused, scared, and to top it off, sexually frustrated. But more than that, I was disappointed for Cass, who would have been waiting for him to show up tonight.

  “How are you going to help him?” I asked. “You might get hurt.”

  He stared straight out at the road, the streetlights revealing his tense expression. He didn’t answer me, instead keeping his hands wound tight around the wheel as he sped up.

  “I’ll be fine,” he murmured after a few minutes of tense silence.

  The house was closer than I thought it would be. We swung into the driveway of a single-story home with a porch light illuminating the front path. It didn’t look like a lot was going on inside, but as soon as the engine was killed and Leroy pushed his door open, masculine and outraged shouting could be heard inside the house, along with the piercing, shrill voice of a girl.

  “Ellie.” I glanced at where he stood outside of the car, leaning down with his hand rested on the roof. His expression left me with no room to argue over his next words. “Do not get out of this car.”

  Leroy

  The nerve Noah had. When he first met Ellie, he had accused her of not being good enough for this family. And here he was, at the Weismann house, about to be beaten to death by Natalie’s father. The front door was not surprisingly unlocked, and the house stank like old food.

  It wasn’t hard to find where Noah would be hiding—somewhere close to the unhinged shouting of a madman. As I carefully wandered down the hallway, I noticed the smashed photo frames that had been knocked off the wall and the indents where the end of a bat had met the thin walls. As if the shouting wasn’t enough.

  I had met Peter once or twice. He had a short temper and a distaste toward the upper class. If Noah got out of this without getting smacked, I would be giving him one just for being such a careless idiot. Natalie was an attractive girl, sure, but he was about to be beaten to death over her.

  I cursed when I realized that the bedroom Peter was shouting at was the last one in the hallway and there was only one way out. For a moment, I wondered why Noah hadn’t gone out the window, but then I remembered that Peter barred them last time Natalie had been caught sneaking out.

  The man stood just a little taller than me and used the baseball bat to bang on the door again, shouting an almost indecipherable threat. I was sure that he wasn’t that mad about Natalie being with a guy—it had more to do with who she was with. I took a deep breath and cleared my throat, hoping we could get out of this with little to no violence.

  He snapped his head toward me and grimaced. “The hell are you doing in my house?”

  “I came to get Noah.” I held my hands up to proclaim my in
nocence. “We’ll leave and he won’t be back. I swear.”

  He started toward me. “I caught that little asshole in bed with my daughter.” I took a step back, but it didn’t deter him. He got up in my face as he spat his threats. “The second he comes out of that room, I’m batting his fucking head in.”

  “Noah!” I shouted as loud as I could. “Call the police.”

  I wasn’t sure why he hadn’t done that in the first place. Noah’s voice came from the bedroom, but I couldn’t hear what he said.

  “What’s going on?”

  I turned around and recoiled when I saw Natalie standing behind me.

  She was dressed up, her face made up and a purse in her hand. She glanced between her father and me, becoming more concerned by the minute.

  “Wait,” I turned back to the bedroom, pointing at it, and then back at Natalie. “Who the hell is Noah in ther—no . . .”

  “Noah?” Natalie spluttered as her eyes widened. “Is he in there with Nadia?!”

  “Oh fuck.” I ran a hand through my hair. No wonder he hadn’t called the police. When he told me he was in trouble at the Weissmanns’, I’d assumed that he meant with Natalie. I never even considered that it could be with her fifteen-year-old sister. “Shit, Peter, look man, I’m—”

  “Don’t bother,” Peter snarled. “He has to come out at some point and I’m going to put him in a fucking coma!”

  He shouted the last part of his threat and I assumed that was for the benefit of the idiot that I was supposedly related to.

  “Well, I just came to grab a change of clothes,” Natalie said. “See you tomorrow, Dad.”

  He grumbled some response and then headed back over to the door while Natalie ducked in and out of her bedroom as fast as she could. This was bad. I’d lost all hope that I could talk him down from his rage. In fact, I understood where he was coming from. But unfortunately, I still couldn’t let him put Noah six feet under.