FIVE

 

S E P T E M B E R,  L A S T   Y E A R

 

THE SCHOOL WEEKpasses like normal, except I notice Robin notice me. I ride to school with Cam as always, and wait for him after football practice. Lacey convinced me to try out for cheerleading a few weeks ago, and it was easy enough to make the squad since I've always been naturally athletic. Our practice ends only thirty or so minutes before the football players get out, so I sit on the bleachers doing homework while Cam showers and changes every day.

Other than a nod in the hallway or a passing smile - though that's a great deal more than I've ever gotten before - Robin doesn't acknowledge that he's asked me out, and that we have plans on Friday. Cam asks me a few times if I'm sure I want to go and assures me that I could still change my mind, but I don't want to.

On Friday, the day slips by at a snail's pace. There's no game today, just a practice, so the football players aren't wearing their jerseys to class, but the cheerleaders have to wear our uniforms every Friday, whether there's a game or not. Next week will be the first away game, and in three weeks is homecoming. Though there will be a vote, there's no doubt that Robin and Maddie will be King and Queen and Cam and either Lacey or Missy will likely be Junior Prince and Princess. Other than teasing Cam about it, I'd never been interested in homecoming court, but now that I'm a cheerleader I'll at least have to ride in the parade and wear my uniform to the dance I've never even bothered attending before.

At lunch I'm chatting with the girls when Cam and our friend, Chip, join our table in the cafeteria. Lacey automatically scoots over to make room, knowing Cam will sit next to me and this way he'll have to sit next to her, too. Chip sits on my other side, between me and Emmers, whose shy smile tells me she's pleased with the arrangement. I've noticed her little crush before, but Chip remains predictably clueless. He slides his arm around the back of my chair, his other hand finding the bare skin of my knee. I roll my eyes, still so unaccustomed to my friends treating me like sexual prey. Chip and I have been friends since little league.

"Damn, Rory, I don't think I've ever seen you in a skirt outside a' church. I like it." He smirks with suggestive approval.

I swat his hand off my knee just as Cam, from my opposite side, swings Chip's arm from the back of my chair, nearly toppling Chip's over.

"Back off, Chip, she's your friend," Cam reminds him with a glare that would intimidate a prize fighter. I squeeze Cam's broad shoulder to call him off. Chip is just being Chip - he doesn't know any better.

"It's fine, Cam. I can handle myself." I turn back to Chip, "Franklin Chipley, the next time your hand finds its way to my leg, it will be returned minus at least one finger," I warn through a overly saccharine smile.

Chip splays his palms forward in surrender. "Point taken, Jeez," he concedes. "But you shouldn't prance around in short little skirts with legs like that. How's a man to help himself?"

"Man?" I raise my brows skeptically.

Chip play-punches me in the arm, and just like that I'm back to being one of the guys.

"And it's my uniform," I grumble. He knows I'm not used to wearing short skirts like this any more than he's used to seeing me in them.

"Whatever, Rory girl," he says, adopting Cam's nickname for me, next time wear those legging things underneath," he suggests.

"It's eighty degrees!" 

Cam reinserts himself and it's like he hasn't noticed the jest in the exchange, though I'm not sure how it could've been missed. "She'll wear what she likes, and you'll keep your hands to yourself." Cam's voice is quiet, but full of warning.

"Whatever dude, I was kidding... sorta. Relax!"  

Cam, placated, goes back to eating his sandwich, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Lacey practically swoon as she always does at Cam's protective streak. And, as always, I wish it was intended for her benefit and not mine. I can handle myself. Certainly with Chip anyway.

****

 

Practice always ends early on Fridays when there's no game. Cam and I make our way to his car in the student lot, and I stop in my tracks when I notice the white rose tucked under the windshield wiper on the passenger side. Cam sighs. I look at him, bemused, but he just shrugs.

"Well it ain't for me," he mutters.

I glance around and spot Robin standing beside his car across the lot, staring at me. He smiles, winks, folds himself into the driver's seat, and drives off. My blush rises to my cheeks, spreading downward with a vengeance.  

"Jeez. He's pullin' out all the stops, i'nt he?" Cam grumbles.

"Well it's on your car, maybe you're the one he likes," I tease. I pick up the rose and realize there's a note tucked under it:

See you at 7, Sweetheart. Can't wait.

I try to hide my smile.

"Yeah, well he should buy me a whole damn bouquet since I'm the only reason he's scorin' any touchdowns this season."

****

 

I've never owned many dresses, but I did purchase a few on shopping trips with Lacey this summer. I choose a short, flouncy, red dress with a fitted bodice and cap sleeves. I leave my hair loose, thankful my mother insisted on taking the time last year to teach me how to do my makeup. Lacey's tutelage left me with blue shadow and bright pink cheeks - so not me. My perpetual blushing around Robin requires no cosmetic assistance, and I feel much more comfortable in just a little earth toned shadow and mascara paired with a sheer lip gloss. I barely recognize myself in the mirror. I look like such a girl.

I can't believe I'm about to go on my first date and it's with none other than Robin Forbes. I feel as if I've stepped inside some modern fairytale. But I also feel like maybe they casted the wrong player. Like the whole thing is just one monumental misunderstanding. I have no idea how to act, what to say. He's going to kiss me - he said as much last week - and I haven't a clue how to kiss. Perhaps I should've taken Cam up on his offer to teach me years ago. Or maybe I should have listened to him and just declined this date in the first place. I text him.

I'm freaking. You around?

Yep.

His reply is not only instantaneous, but I can actually hear his laughter and look out my window to see if he's outside, but it's too dark to tell.

A knock sounds on my door and I swing it open to find Cam in his worn dark jeans and a fitted black tee shirt. He really is the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome - at least physically - right down to that perfect Florida tan. It's obvious why Lacey and half the girls in our grade are obsessed. He runs his hand through his overlong mahogany locks and I'm thrown for a second by how positively male he looks. Suddenly he's not my best buddy Cam, he's a hot guy, and I don't know where these wayward thoughts are coming from. I step back and gesture for him to enter, raising my eyebrows for an explanation for how he made it over so quickly. We've communicated like this since we were kids. We don't always need words to have a conversation. Sometimes we can get through an entire exchange with only a few glances.

"I was downstairs," he shrugs. That means he was talking football with my dad. Dad's a fan of Cam's too. I pull him by the sleeve into my room so I can close the door. "Your dad was grilling me about your date," he smirks.

Really? Though, I don't know why this surprises me. My father is only interested in my life when a Forbes is involved. I'm sure "grilling" is an exaggeration, but the thought that my dad might care about me or something I do gets my attention. The thought of him worrying after me positively melts me.

"What'd he say?" I ask. Because he's said nothing to me. Not one word.

Cam rolls his eyes. He gets along with my dad just fine, but I know Cam doesn't like the way my father's ignored me lately. Cam is the only one who knows how much I crave my father's affection, even if I put up a good front, even to him.

"He asked me if Forbes' intentions were honorable," he murmurs, but I can tell from his tone that there's more, and I look at him expectantly, knowing he won't lie to me, not even to spare my feelings. Cam sighs. "He wanted to know if Forbes might get serious about you or if he's just messin' around. I think he wants to know if he should get his hopes up at the chance of bein' future father-in-law to the great Robin Forbes." He speaks quickly, hating reporting anything that might hurt me, even though I just laugh it off like I always do. It's not as if I wasn't aware of the impetus for my father's sudden interest in my life.

"What'd you say?" I ask. I know Cam can detect the disappointment in my voice - there's no sense in trying to hide it from him.

He slings an arm around my shoulder. "I told him that if a guy like Forbes was gonna get serious about anybody, it'd be you Rory girl," he says meaningfully.

I turn to face him. "Do you really think that?" I don't think Cam would say something he didn't believe just to make me feel better, but I can't be sure. I know he doesn't lie to me, but I also know he'd do practically anything to keep me from being hurt, and this me-dating thing is new territory for the both of us.

"Is that what you want, Ror? To get serious with Forbes?" Cam's voice has grown quiet and I can't account for its intensity.

"I don't even really know him. I just know I don't want him to, you know, just be messin' around," I admit.

Cam offers me a half smile tinted with a hint of relief. "Look, I'm not in his head, but if he was just looking to get laid, he'd just keep doin' what he's been doin', right? He wouldn't be pursuing a good girl like you. I can't blame him though, you're beautiful, sweet... the kinda girl you marry. Not the kind you mess around with. He knows that."

I know Cam's sincere, but just because Cam believes it doesn't mean it's true for Robin. "You're just sayin' that 'cause you love me," I grumble and flop dramatically down onto my bed.

Cam stares down at me a moment, seemingly bemused, before smiling the warm, familiar, best-friend smile he reserves just for me. "Yeah, I'm sayin' that 'cause I love you," he agrees. "Anyway, why you freaking out, Rory girl?" He sits down beside me.

"I don't know how to go on a date, Cam, you know that."

"There's no 'how’ to it, Ror. You just go, be yourself, and have fun. Don't do anything you don't wanna do. Don't do anything you do wanna do if you think I don't want you doin' it."

I sit up. "So you mean, don't do what you usually do on a date."

Cam shakes his head. "I don't 'date', Ror. I don't give girls roses or say pretty things. But yeah, don't do what I usually do." He's looking at me meaningfully and waiting for me to call him out on his hypocrisy, which I normally would. But I don't, because I'm nowhere near ready to do any of those things anyway. Instead, I change the subject.

"Cam, he's gonna kiss me," I mutter shyly. Why am I suddenly shy with Cam? I've slept with him in his bed a hundred times for God’s sake.

Cam scowls for a moment, but wipes it off quickly on an exhale. "Yeah, Ror, I imagine that he is," he concedes.

"I don't know how to kiss."

Cam gives me one of our conversational looks. He's asking me where I'm going with this.

"Will you teach me?"

"There's nothing to teach, Ror. You either let him or you don't. Do you want him to kiss you?"

"I think I do," I admit. There's his scowl again. "But I don't know what to do! I won't be any good at it, can't you show me?"

"Show you?! Rory girl, I think you've up and lost your damn mind." He shoots up from the bed and faces away from me. Not what I expected.

I get up and follow him. "But you know how to kiss - you've kissed tons of girls! And from what I hear you're pretty good at it." I play to his ego.

"Pretty good?" he smirks wickedly. "Now I doubt that's the way you're new little girl friends described me."

He's right. According to Lacey he's incredible, and I can't help but let my gaze drift to his lips.

"Don't you look at me like that, Ror," he whispers.

I meet his eyes again. "Like what?"

He stares at me a moment, then shakes his head as if to clear it. "You'll be fine, Ror, I'm sure you'll be great. Don't worry about it. If it feels right, go with it, if it doesn't, then don't do it, okay?"

I stomp my foot like a four year old. "But you offered to teach me before! I didn't need it then. I need it now!" I argue.

Cam chuckles, and like always, the sound of his laugh banishes all of my tension. "We were thirteen! It's different now. I can't just kiss you, Ror!"

"Of course you can," I whisper, and take a step forward.

He sucks in a sharp breath. He's conflicted, but I don't understand why. What's the big deal?

Cam retreats a step back and turns from me. I can't help but feel rejected, even though I know it's irrational.

"Cam?"

He faces me and takes my hand, sits on the edge of my bed, and pulls me so that I'm seated beside him. "Ror, I ain't gonna kiss you, okay? You know I'd do anything for you. Like you said, I love you. But your first kiss should be with someone you like that way, not your best friend."

"Ugh. Whatever. Thanks a lot, Cam."

He smiles wryly. "Anyway, it was one thing back when we were kids, before you got all hot and shit. You think I can kiss you sittin' here in your bedroom, with you wearin' that sexy little dress, and not get a-"

"Cameron Foster!" I stop him before he describes his theoretical erection, and we both crack up laughing.

There was never anything strange or awkward about our friendship growing up, except when he first hit puberty and had little control over when he sported wood. For a good year, it was the source of endless teasing from my end, and now he's using it against me. Fair enough.

The doorbell rings and I jump up and look back at him for reassurance. "I look okay?" 

He stands and takes my hand, rubbing soothing little circles into the back of it with his thumb. He always does this when I'm worrying about something. "You look beautiful, Rory girl. Too beautiful. You call me if you need me. I'll come get you. I mean it," he assures me.

"I know, Cam, thanks."

Cam nods toward my door, his expression telling me to stop stalling and to get going if I'm going to go. So I do, with him right on my heels.

****

 

Robin is standing in the front hall, talking to my dad about next week's football game. My dad gives me a kiss on the cheek and tells me to have a good time before excusing himself. I try to convince myself that the first ounce of affection my father has offered me in a year was not for Robin's benefit. Cam is still standing behind me on the bottom step and I shoot him a "get lost" look, but he just gives me one right back that tells me he isn't going anywhere. I turn back to Robin as he produces a bouquet of white roses, clearly the dozen from which the windshield rose came this afternoon. Heat rises to my cheeks as I quietly thank him. He greets Cam kind of coldly considering they're teammates and sort of friends, and Cam's response is equally icy.

"Remember what we talked about, Forbes," Cam murmurs, before giving me a kiss on the cheek and heading back toward the kitchen. To an outsider it would appear as if he was going to hang out in my house, but I know he's just taking the back door out to go back home. Our back doors are closer to one another than our front doors, and they're what we've always used since we were kids. I excuse myself briefly to put the flowers in water then rejoin Robin in the foyer.

He leads me out to his car and opens the passenger door for me, and pulls out of the driveway, heading toward town.

"You look real pretty, Rory," he says with a grin. "I like the dress."  

I blush profusely and politely thank him.

"I made reservations at the club, if that's okay?"

"Sure," I reply. The country club. Wow. Our parents are all members, sure, but high school students having dinner there is kind of a big deal. I'd have heard about it if he'd brought dates there before. It occurs to me that he's actually trying to impress me, and I can't help but smile to myself.

"What's that pretty little smile for?" he asks, and I chew my bottom lip to force it away.

"Nothin'. I just didn't realize you took dates to the club for dinner is all," I admit.

Now it's his turn to smile. "I don't, sweetheart. But you're not just some date, are you?" I search for the jest in his tone, but he sounds so sincere.

"I'm not?"

"'Course you're not." He doesn't elaborate, and I don't ask him to.

Robin pulls into the club's circular drive and waves off the valet who comes to open my door in order to do it himself. He places his hand in the small of my back to lead me inside, and I'm surprised by the way it makes me feel. I'm still nervous, but I feel special, like I matter. And the feeling is new to me. I like it.

"Hey, what did Cam mean? When he said to remember what y'all talked about?" I ask, recalling the curious exchange. It's not like Cam to keep something from me, especially a conversation that obviously concerned me. Robin smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

He leans into me like he's going to tell me a secret. "He meant for me to remember that if I hurt you, he'll kill me."

My jaw drops. Cam said what?

Robin sees my shock and chuckles. "He cares about you, sweetheart. You're not just the prettiest girl in this town, but you're innocent - like an angel. He's worried I'll take advantage. If I was him, I'd 'a been worried too. But I told him that you're special, and that I'm not stupid enough not to know it."

It's a sweet thing to say, and with his words, my nerves melt away. Robin smiles and takes my hand as the hostess leads us to a table overlooking the golf course.

Dinner is way more comfortable than I anticipated. Conversation flows naturally, and Robin tells me all about the team this year, about our opponents for next week's game and strategy. He talks about college scouts that'll be at the games and the recruiters that have been hounding him since last year. Robin explains that while it's polite to entertain them all, his dad would never even consider him going anywhere other than UFL. I already knew that. It's where both our dads went for their undergraduate pre-law degrees.

"Where would you wanna go? I mean if you weren't already committed to Gainesville since birth," I ask.

He looks back at me, bemused. "Ya know, sweetheart, I think you may just be the first person to ever ask me that."

"Really?" I ask, and he smiles.

"Really. But I suppose it doesn't matter, does it? What about you? Your daddy sendin' you to Gainesville too or do you get a choice?"

I shrug. "I don't really know. When I was little he always talked about me going to Gainesville. At least for undergrad. But lately he doesn't really seem to care what I do. I've thought about goin' to New York. NYU. Like my mom. I don't think it'd matter to my dad either way now, but I suppose I'll end up at UFL." Just in case it might please him, I add silently.

Robin nods sympathetically. "I bet you're wrong, ya know. He cares. How could he not?" 

I shrug again. I've often wondered the same thing myself lately. "Tonight's the first night in a long while he even seemed to give a damn what I was doin', and that's only 'cause I was goin' out with his favorite high school football star," I grumble, and then flush bright red when I realize I've just said that out loud.

Robin signals for the check. He reaches across the table for my hand, and his touch surprises me again. It's comforting. Sweet. "If that's true then he's a damn fool."

****

 

I find I'm disappointed when Robin pulls up to my house. I've been having such a good time, and I'm not ready for it to end quite yet. He opens my door, offering his hand to help me out.

He glances at my house and then back at me. "Ya know, this is the part where I kiss you goodnight, but I'm not sure I'm ready to let you go just yet," he echoes my own thoughts as he lightly strokes his fingers up and down my arm.

I swallow nervously.  

"You think you, uh, wanna go for a walk around the block?"

I laugh. "Seriously?"

Robin shrugs, and if I'm not mistaken, he seems a little unsure of himself. I couldn't possibly make him nervous, could I?

"I like talkin' to you."

I smile. I like talking to him, too. He takes my smile as agreement and, holding my hand, leads me down the road, away from my house. There's only four houses on the block, including mine and Cam's. We pass them and come up to the entrance to the park I spent so many hours in as a child. I look down at our hands, fused together, and I'm struck by how tiny my hand looks in his. I'm not petite, for a girl anyway, but at six foot one, Robin dwarfs me. He's no taller than Cam, but for some reason, next to him, I feel every inch of his stature. Robin notices me looking at our hands and smiles, bringing them up to press his lips to my knuckles. It sends a shiver up my arm.

"Your hand looks real good tucked in mine, Rory," he murmurs. We stop walking and he turns and takes a small step so that he's right in front of me, my back up against the massive old oak Cam and I carved our names in as children. "I'm gonna kiss you now, sweetheart," he whispers, but waits. For what, I don't know. I think he's reading my reaction, but I meet his gaze, practically daring him to make good on his promise.

And he does.

Robin brushes his lips lightly against mine, and it's barely a kiss, but I feel the sweetness of it everywhere. He presses his mouth to mine and holds it there for a second before he moves his lips up and down, gently sucking my bottom lip between his. I reciprocate. I'm not even thinking about it, but I'm matching the movement of his lips as he continues moving his mouth over mine. It feels really nice. Different than I expected... sweeter. Then his tongue is there, softly licking between my lips, and I heed his silent request to open. He swipes his tongue into my mouth, slowly, but it's still his lips doing most of the work. They're wet and soft and I'm liking the way they make me feel. His hands are firmly planted on my waist, and, open, they span almost my entire stomach and back. His fingers move in rhythm with our mouths, but they stay in safe places, never moving too high, or too low.

I tentatively meet his tongue with my own, and we stay there like that for long minutes, exploring each other's mouths. I'm completely lost in the kiss, and practically of their own volition, my hands slide from where they're gripping his biceps up his broad shoulders and neck, until they’re grasping at his hair, holding his mouth to mine.

Robin groans and pulls away, breathing hard, leaving me leaning back against the oak for support, gasping for air. His hands fall to his sides as he takes two purposeful steps back like he can't get away from me fast enough. I'm suddenly unsure of myself, surprised by the abrupt interruption to something I thought he was enjoying. Things were going so well. Better than I ever even imagined. Familiar insecurity sweeps through me, but I've never been one to shy away from getting answers.

"Did I... do something wrong?" I ask hesitantly.

Robin is still catching his breath, and his expression morphs from intense to confused and then back again.

"No, sweetheart. Not wrong. Too right," he murmurs.

I blink at him. What the hell does that mean?

Robin sighs. "That was... amazing. You're amazing. But I don't wanna get carried away. And it'd sure be easy to get carried away when you kiss me like that."

If I wasn't still flushed from our heated kiss, I'd blush now. Robin's lips twist up into a smile, and I realize it's because I'm smiling. But too quickly, his smile fades and instead, he scowls. "Where'd you learn to kiss like that? Not from Foster, I hope."

I giggle, surprising myself. I've never been a giggly girl. I shake my head. "No, of course not!"

Robin takes a step closer to me, but not as close as before when we were kissing. "You two are really just friends?" His tone is almost accusatory, and I'm a little thrown. It's as if he wasn't sure he believed us before either, but he's only just decided he really cares one way or another. "He's never kissed you ever, or anything?"

I shake my head, grateful to Cam that I can do so without lying - only the case because he refused to teach me how to kiss earlier today. Robin narrows his eyes at me like he's trying to work out whether I'm being truthful. I look down at my ballet flats.

"No one's ever kissed me before," I admit in a timid whisper.

"Never?" Robin asks, incredulous, and I shake my head in confirmation. "Well how is that possible?"  

I shrug, unsure if his question is rhetorical or not.

"Look at me, sweetheart," he demands, taking both my hands in his. "I'm your first kiss?"

I nod again.

"Well now I can't stop wondering if your second kiss will be as incredible as the first," he murmurs before once again covering my mouth with his.

It is.

He pulls away with a wide, triumphant grin. I'm sure it mirrors my own.

"Come on, we should get you home before your daddy starts to worry," he says and takes my hand to lead me back toward my house.

"He won't," I reply under my breath.

We get back to my driveway and I tell him I'm going to go around back since we never lock the back door and I never carry keys. Robin plants a chaste kiss on my lips and I smile.

"Look, sweetheart, I get that Foster is your buddy and all, but the next time I come pick you up to take you out, I ain't gonna take too kindly to another man comin' down from your bedroom with you, alright?"  

I nod. It's not unreasonable, but I'm more focused on the fact that he said there will be a next time. "Goodnight," I murmur.

Robin smiles wickedly and presses me against his car. He kisses me again, and pushes his tongue gently into my mouth before pulling away.

I can't help myself, I sigh.

"Goodnight sweetheart."

I walk around the house and, before I round the corner, I spare a glance back to see him standing by his car door, waiting until I'm out of sight.

I sit down on the steps to my back porch, just needing a minute to myself, and listen to Robin's car drive off. Not five minutes later I hear another car pull up and wonder if Robin's returned for some reason. I creep to the side of the house and see it's just Missy dropping off Cam. She gets out of her car to say goodnight. Cam grabs her and kisses her, and it's totally unlike Robin. Cam's almost disinterested about it, and yet his hand goes straight to her breast, the other to her ass, and Missy just presses her undeniably impressive body further into him.

"Think we can hang out again tomorrow?" she asks - I can just make their voices out.

Cam shakes his head. "Nah, I got plans." He offers her no further explanation.

"Oh yeah? With who?" She puts her hand on her hips, but Cam turns away from her to jog toward his back door.

"None of your damn business," he calls back to her, but he’s smiling. That's Cam - he can say the rudest things to girls, but through that crooked smile of his, he can get away with anything.

He turns toward my back porch instead of his and catches me snooping, though I don't even try to hide it.

"Hey there, Nancy Drew," he grins, slinging an arm around my shoulders as he walks me toward my door.  

"Have fun with Missy?" I ask sweetly.

His smile shifts into a smirk. "Sure did." He swings my back door open, grabs a box of Oreos from my kitchen pantry, and follows me quietly up the steps to my bedroom.

I take a makeup remover wipe and start removing my mascara. "Do you ever take her out or you just hook up?" I ask.

"Her?" Cam stuffs a cookie into his mouth whole.

"Yeah, her. Missy. Lacey, whoever." I watch Cam through my vanity mirror. He's had a few drinks tonight, but not too much - I can tell by the slight gloss of his eyes, but they remain in focus.

"Now what would be the point of that?" he asks, and I roll my eyes. "So tell me about your date. He act like a gentleman?" Cam's voice only thinly veils the inherent threat in the question, and I roll my eyes again. "Ror, I mean it. He behave?"

Makeup free, I join him on the bed. "I can't believe you threatened him!"

Cam doesn't skip a beat. "Of course I threatened him," he deadpans.

I sigh. "He was a perfect gentleman, Cam."