Theresa Paolo - (Never) Again

“They aren’t!” I didn’t think I could sound so nasty whispering, but mission accomplished.

The guy in front of us turned, a finger over his lips, and shushed us. Zach raised an apologetic hand and the guy turned back in his chair. You’d think that would be enough to shut Zach up, but it only made him move closer. I hated the fact I liked his cologne. And as much as I didn’t want it to, my body betrayed me, responding to his scent, his closeness, but I’d be damned if I gave in to the desire to be closer to him. I hated him. He hurt me. And even if my hormones were willing to forget, my mind wasn’t.

“Oh, come on. I saw you dive into the bathroom earlier.” His voice softened.

He saw me. Shit!

“No, I didn’t.” I folded my arms, trying not to notice him. It was impossible. I could sense him staring at me, waiting for me to turn so he could tell if I was lying or not.

So many things were different. So much time was between us. I wasn’t the same girl as I was a year ago. I was in college now, living on my own. But my lip still twitched when I lied. I had attempted to control it to no avail. It was as if my mouth tried to stop me from letting the lie out.

If I looked at Zach now, he would make me repeat myself and my lip would betray me. I didn’t want him to know he had any effect on me. I didn’t want him back in my life.

“Fine. I guess I was mistaken,” he said as he moved his desk away.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Zach didn’t talk to me for the rest of the class. Which I was fine with, though, I still felt as if he was looking at me, and it made me uncomfortable. Of course he came back into my life the day my outfit sucked and I just threw my hair into a messy ponytail. Damn Sadie for making me go to that frat party last night. Though the blond highlights I’d recently gotten made it look a little more stylish.

I had overslept too. I never overslept. Even after a night of partying. I should have known then that today was going to royally suck.

The professor couldn’t end class fast enough.

After Zach’s comment about my bathroom dash, I didn’t want to prove him right. So instead of high-tailing it out of class as I so desperately wanted to, I took my time getting ready to leave.

My entire body, mind and soul were trying to race me out the door, but I slowly put my books in my bag and when at least four people had left, I began my exit. I didn’t realize that he had started walking simultaneously until we both tried to walk through the doorway at the same time. With his much bigger build, it wasn’t happening.

“Excuse me,” I said and pushed by. In the hallway the air was lighter. I breathed again.

“Liz, wait up,” he called.

Zach didn’t get it. I wanted nothing to do with him. We were over and I had no intention of becoming friends. He had hurt me and just looking at him was a painful reminder of that.

I speed-walked towards Joe’s and my meeting spot because we always walked to my second class together before he headed home, and there was no way I was walking with my current boyfriend on one side and my ex on the other.

“Liz, come on.” Zach grabbed my arm. Warmth rushed over my skin as he pulled me into a doorway. I hated that his hand on my arm made me feel anything at all. “Can’t we just talk?”

For a second I stared into his familiar eyes, a moment from the past frozen in time. Then my glance fell, moving over the skin that was no longer baby soft, but now showed signs of dark stubble.

“What is there to talk about, Zach?” I asked, taking my eyes from the strong lines of his jaw.

He dipped his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall. It was his signature pose. At least not everything about him changed.

“I don’t know like, how are you? How’s your family? How’s life in general?” He moved closer. My heartbeat pounded out of control and the vise grip on it tightened again. I stepped back, breathing erratically, trying to suck air into my lungs, but it only gave me a better view of his lips. I remembered those lips and how they felt pressed against mine. And even though I resisted the memory, my mind drifted back to our first kiss.

It was late afternoon, junior year of high school. The sun had already begun its descent into the horizon and we were hanging on the monkey bars. Zach had come up with the great idea to race. On the count of three we were off, laughing as we collided in the middle. We were hanging close enough to one another that our legs kept touching.

Zach let go first and I followed him. His hands grabbed my sides to steady me as I dropped, and I glanced up to say thanks when he kissed me.

His lips brushed against mine, soft and sweet. I relaxed into his body, wanting to be as close to him as possible. Warmth spread through my cheeks as his hands cupped my face. I had been kissed before, but it was nothing compared to this.

My body had never reacted to any other kiss the way it had to Zach’s. Pulse racing out of control, blood rushing out of my head, shooting through the rest of my body, leaving me light-headed, tingly, completely exhilarated. No. Nothing compared to it.

Not even close.

Tears pricked at my eyes as I thought of how much of a fool I had been to think Zach and I would be forever. I shook my head and swallowed down the pain.

“I’m good. Life’s great. I have a boyfriend and I couldn’t be happier. You might remember him, Joe Resnick? My family is great. That about covers it. Are we through here?”

“Lizzie,” he said, and I shot daggers at him with my eyes. “I mean Liz. Sorry. Don’t you even want to know why I’m here?” My gaze went swiftly to his. I ignored the deep, dark intensity that used to make me weak at the knees and gave him a simple answer.

“No.”

The way his body flinched away from me, you would have thought I’d spit in his face. “You’re not the same person anymore, are you?” A sadness crept into his eyes. He ran his fingers through his hair, revealing the scar above his left eyebrow. The scar he told me he’d gotten chasing his cousin around a bench at the mall. He’d tripped and smacked his head on the corner of the seat on the way down.

He might have had the same scar, but he was right, I wasn’t the same person anymore and neither was he. I needed to get out of there. I needed to just get away from him.

“No, I’m not. Now if you’ll excuse me, my boyfriend is waiting.”

I walked away, feeling his eyes on me. In a way, this was finally the closure I’d always wanted. Not that we’d talked about us and why he stopped calling, but we’d talked and that was something. More than I’d had a year ago.

Back at my apartment Joe was waiting for me as always, propped against the doorway, one foot on the floor, the other resting on the building behind him. His dark hair hung in his eyes and while most girls found a guy with long hair sexy, I honestly just wished he’d get a haircut.

“I didn’t think you were coming.” His arm hooked around my waist and pulled me into him. I nuzzled my head against his cedar-and-mint-smelling chest.

“I wouldn’t miss this,” I said, then leaned up to kiss him. His grip loosened and I pulled away to get my key. Before I could slide the key into the lock he grabbed my hand and spun me towards him. I waited for his lips to assault mine, but instead he ran his fingers through his hair.

“I was just talking to Scott and his band’s playing at Trax tonight.” A sparkle flashed in his eye, the one he got every time he was excited about something.

“And you want to go.” He nodded his head up and down with the boyish charm that always won me over. “Sure. Let me just put my bag down and run a brush through my hair.”

“Really? Because I know we had plans and all.” He linked his hands around my side and pulled me to him. He held my waist, bending his knees slightly so he could look at me eye to eye. His dark bushy eyebrows turned towards the straight bridge of his nose.

“No, really, it’s okay.” As much as I loved our Monday nights at the pizza place, I was sick of coming home smelling like garlic. Sadie always made me strip at the door and go straight down the hall to the laundry room. At least she let me grab my robe first. I couldn’t argue. If it wasn’t for her parents paying most of the rent I’d be in the dorms sharing a room with some stranger.

Then again, watching Scott’s band play was the equivalent of a slow, torturous death. If there was a plaque for girlfriend of the year, it’d be hanging over my bed.

I offered a smile with my words even though I wasn’t in a smiling type of mood.

“Awesome. Love you, babe.” He kissed my cheek and opened the door for me. He walked straight in and went right for the couch. Sadie had picked out the bright pink pillows with orange detail, a chic nod to her culture. They were perfectly placed on our brown couch until Joe pushed them aside, one falling to the floor, and flopped on the sofa.

If Sadie was home, she’d kill him. We’ve been best friends since high school and there were two things I learned about her when we started living together. First, don’t mess with her closet. To say she was anal would be putting it mildly. Secondly, decorative pillows were as important as her shoes.

I picked the pillow off the floor and placed it in its designated spot. “I’ll be right out,” I said and headed to my room, deciding to change my shirt too. I shut the door behind me. Why, I didn’t know. It’s not like Joe hadn’t seen me in my bra. We spent a lot of time on second base. Even though he kept trying to slide into third, I hadn’t waved him on yet. I didn’t even know why. I just froze every time we got there. At this rate I’d be a virgin for life.