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The Opportunist

Page 16

“How did you get that scar?” I asked. I was shuffling along the bottom of the pool on my tiptoes to get away from him. He absently reached a finger out to touch it.

“I stole a pound note from my grandfather’s wallet and when he caught me, he decided to punish me with his walking stick.”

I felt one of those, ‘this is why he’s messed up,’ moments coming on and I prepared myself to understand him.

“Really?”

“No.”

I felt myself color red. I punched him on the arm as hard as I could.

“I fell off my bike when I was twelve,” he laughed, rubbing the spot where I hit him. “A very boring story.”

“At least it’s the truth,” I said, exasperated. “Someone like you doesn’t need to lie to be interesting.”

“Someone like me?” he asked. “You find me interesting Libby?”

“No, I don’t, and don’t call me Libby. You know you’re really quite simple and boring,” I said, sniffing.

He was looking away from me into the water.

“Did you drop a piece of your jewelry?”

“What?” his attention had shifted so suddenly, I felt offended.

“There’s something down there at the bottom of the pool.” He was pointing to a spot between our feet. I narrowed my eyes trying to see what he was staring at.

“I’m not wearing any jewelry,” I said impatiently, “it’s probably just a penny or something.”

I nudged it with my toe. It was bigger than a penny. Before he could say anything else, I ducked my head under the water to retrieve it. When my head broke the surface of the water, Caleb automatically scooted closer.

“What is it?” he was staring at my clenched fist.

“Let’s see,” I said theatrically, pulling my fingers slowly away from my palm. It was not jewelry. It was an old penny, flattened, and stamped with a message that entitled its bearer one free shot of affection, a kiss.

Before I realized what I was doing, I dropped the souvenir into his palm.

“You’re full of tricks tonight aren’t you?”

He was laughing…always laughing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Before I could retort with something clever, Caleb reached out and scooped me around my waist. Even in the cold water, his touch felt scorching hot. He pulled me toward him and our bodies were pressed together, belly to belly, chest to chest. I was so shocked, that at first I made no protest. I hadn’t been this spatially close to another human being since I was an infant. He grinned, his eyes turning smoky with what I perceived as lust. I gave up fighting and allowed my lips to be steered toward his. This is for Cammie, I told myself. There was no ‘nice and easy’ with this boy. He grazed his tongue along the inside of my bottom lip. He was gentle at first, trying to coax my stubborn lips into some form of cooperation. I responded with the only thing I knew: frigid prudity. Caleb, undaunted by my lack of enthusiasm pulled away from me. His hands were wrapped around my waist, his fingers positioned right beneath my panty line. Our foreheads were touching and my breath was coming out in little gasps. It was embarrassing.

“Kiss me back, Olivia.” His voice was commanding, and for a second, I felt a flare of rebellion like I did when he instructed me to put on my seat belt. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. I didn’t win that fight. I probably wouldn’t win this one either. I might not even want to win it.

I could do it. Kissing was a no-brainer, like eating or walking. His lips came back a second time and I bent my head toward him, tilted like in the movies. I was ready this time, willing even. I jumped when we connected and his lips, which were pressed against mine, stretched into an amused smile. He laughed into my mouth. It was infuriating and incredibly sexy. I tried to pull away, but he pulled me back. The kiss. The kiss. The kiss. It was chocolate cake and fizzy passion and goose bumps. No one had ever kissed me like that before.

Then, he did the strangest thing—he pulled away and held me at arm’s length. The spell was broken.

“Olivia…” His voice was rough. I shook my head. I didn’t want to hear what he was going to say.

“I have to go,” I said quickly. The water, which had been still, began rippling as I struggled over to the side of the pool. In one smooth motion, I pulled myself up and out of the water and looked down at my shivering body. I was canoodling in a pool in my underwear with the college Casanova. I was a harlot. Grabbing my wet clothes from the ground I looked around in alarm. Someone was going to see me walk back wearing wet clothes.

“Olivia,” he said again. I refused to look at him. “Here,” he handed me his dry sweatshirt, which I accepted gratefully and pulled over my head. He opened his mouth.

“Look, whatever you’re going to say, don’t!”

He nodded. We walked out the gate and into the parking lot. Caleb retrieved a gym towel from his car and handed it to me. I dabbed at my face and hair and passed it back, my eyes on the floor. I was too ashamed to say anything. My behavior had been tacky. I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. I ground my molars together and pressed my eyes closed.

“Goodnight, Caleb.” I said quickly, sounding half strangled. I could feel his eyes on my back as I walked away. Why had he pulled away like that? The first time I’d ever let myself go, and I got a hard slap in the face.

“By tomorrow, he’ll forget you,” I hissed to myself, “and then you can move on with your life and forget what kissing him felt like.”

I woke up the next morning feeling as if I had swallowed a mouthful of gravel. My throat was burning and my body ached. I burrowed under my covers and tried to shut out images from the night before. They were stupid and reckless images that kept replaying themselves over and over until I wanted to scream. There was no room for mistakes in my life. I didn’t have any family or the back-spring of money. I had one shot to make something of myself and Caleb was the type of distraction that could throw my life off balance

He called twice during the day and once after dinner. I put my phone on silent and forbade Cammie from answering it. I got dressed for class on Monday morning, still slightly green and determined to pretend that nothing had happened. We had a Sociology class together, something he probably didn’t realize since it was one of the larger classes this semester, and I sat as far to the front of the room as he sat to the rear.

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