What Comes Next Page 8

  Silence answered me from the other end.

  “Mama?”

  “You’re with Ana?”

  “I’ll explain later,” I repeated. “Just let them know she’s okay.”

  “Ben, what are you—”

  “I’ve got to go. My time is almost up. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I didn’t give her time to respond before I disconnected the call.

  It came with no warning, sudden and relentless. It came in a dream, and latched on as I ascended toward consciousness. Emotion too powerful to contain tore out of me with a pained cry.

  My mother was dead.

  My father was . . .

  I had no father.

  I turned into my pillow, hoping it would absorb the sound of my grief. My pillow was wet—soaked with tears I had already shed while dreaming.

  Days after her death, I finally cried for my mother. The resentment I’d carried around for years was replaced by a gaping hole left by her death. Sure she had kept me from knowing my father, but I knew now that she had done it for a good reason. She had done what she thought was best. She had only wanted to protect Jeffrey and me, and I never got the chance to thank her.

  A violent sob rose up my throat, and I pressed my face deeper into my pillow. I realized I wasn’t doing a very good job at being quiet when I heard the bedsprings groan from the other side of the room. A few seconds later, my bed dipped from the added weight beside me.

  Ben’s voice floated toward me out of the darkness. “Ana?”

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled into the pillow.

  Gentle pressure settled on my shoulder from his hand. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

  The tenderness behind his words tore open the flood gates, and worsened the sobs that ripped through me. Nothing I did worked. The harder I tried to stop, the faster the tears fell.

  “Don’t fight it, Ana,” Ben suggested softly. “You need to cry.”

  So I did. No more fighting, no more hiding. The darkness veiled me, enabled the emotion to freely pour out of me, though I knew Ben was hidden nearby.

  Minutes passed before my tears dried. I took a therapeutic breath, and released it slowly. The weight lifted. Though I knew it would come back, it was gone for now.

  I pulled my head out of the damp pillow and flipped onto my back. Even with the blanketing darkness around us, I was able to make out Ben’s shadow above me. I ran my palms under my eyes to wipe away any lingering evidence of tears, though I doubted he could see them.

  “Feel better?”

  “Some.”

  He was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Want to talk about it?”

  I didn’t, but I found myself saying, “This is the first I’ve cried since she died.” I shook my head once I realized how horrible that sounded. What did that say about me?

  Was I heartless? Uncaring?

  I’d lost my mother days ago.

  I was suddenly ashamed, and I sat up to escape Ben’s scrutiny—though he hadn’t actually said anything. Probably because he couldn’t believe someone could be that cold, to not cry one tear after their mother died. Who did that?

  His hands on my shoulders stopped me from leaping off the bed. “I haven’t cried once for my father,” he said softly. “Not once.”

  My initial reaction was surprise. Then, I realized I probably should have expected his admission. I didn’t know the details, and I didn’t know exactly why, but I’d always suspected Ben’s relationship with his father had been strained.

  I found myself asking, “Why not?”

  There was a beat of silence, and then, “Because I was glad when he died. I had my reasons for hating him that aren’t important right now. You might have been mad at her, for several reasons, but you didn’t hate your mama, and I know you’re not glad that she’s dead.”

  “No,” I sniffed.

  “You don’t think it’s a coincidence you finally cry hours after you found out that she kept you from knowing how big of a loser your father was? You had that hanging over your head all that time. Now you don’t. Now you can feel what you need to feel.”

  He was right. I knew that now. But all I could think about was the fact that I was now completely, one hundred percent parentless.

  “I don’t have anybody now,” I croaked.

  I heard his sharp breath a moment before his hand found my shoulder in the dark. “That’s not true. You have Ma and Pop. Your brother. I know I haven’t been much of a friend to you, but . . .” He hesitated before continuing softly, “You have me too, Ana.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat when I felt his breath on my cheek. He moved closer. Close enough that I could now feel the faintest brush of his lips against mine. So soft and fleeting, I wondered if I’d imagined it. But then, with a heavy sigh, his lips definitely moved against mine.

  A ripple of excitement shot through me at the touch. My heart melted from the tenderness behind it, and then I was the one sighing.

  My lips parted and his tongue swept my mouth, questioning and probing, before slipping away. More than I wanted to take my next breath, I wanted him to do that again. A sound I didn’t recognize resonated from my throat. It could have been a sound of complaint. Possibly longing. Whatever it was worked, and I got exactly what I wanted.

  His hands moved through my hair to push it away from my face. With a gentle tug, he angled my head, demanding deeper access. I didn’t just allow it. I welcomed it. Shocking, considering this was the first time I had ever been kissed like this. Third kiss ever . . . and my second with him. But he wasn’t the same boy who didn’t know what to do when he gave me my first kiss. Oh, no. He knew exactly what he was doing now.

  A part of me wondered if I should have been worried when his weight shifted, and I found myself pinned on my back with his mouth still on mine. He moved above me, one hand pressed against the pillow beside my head, the other cupping the back of my neck. My head tipped back, and my mouth dropped open. His tongue found mine, and coaxed it out.

  I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to breathe. I only wanted to kiss him, and never stop. Damn, he’d gotten good at this. Not just good. Unbelievably incredible.

  Only now did I wish I had kissed more boys, because I felt dreadfully inadequate. Like we were in a race, and I was scrambling to keep up. I couldn’t even catch my breath long enough to compete.

  As if he’d read my mind, his mouth slid from mine, allowing me to gasp for the air I needed. I momentarily felt embarrassed, and even more inadequate for being so unpracticed, until I noticed that he was struggling too. His breath was ragged against my cheek while his chest heaved against mine. We were both panting.

  “Ana . . .” His voice was strained, and I cringed at the remorse I heard in it.

  His lips grazed my cheek, inching closer to my mouth. My pulse quickened in anticipation. Then he froze, and I was left riding the cusp of expectation. He placed a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth, and I knew that whatever had been happening between us was now over. I fell over the edge, on the side of disappointment.

  I was shocked at the level of frustration I felt.

  His body tensed, and I placed my hand on his shoulder before he could move away. “Ben?” I took a shaky breath. I was partially grateful that the room was dark enough that he couldn’t see me, while wishing that it was at least bright enough to see his face. I wanted to know what he was thinking. “Maybe you could . . . stay?” I suggested softly.

  I squeezed my eyes shut as I waited for his response. He was alarmingly still for several seconds, and I dreaded the answer he was preparing to give me. But I didn’t get what I expected. Instead of pushing away from me, Ben rolled onto the bed beside me. Though I couldn’t see him clearly, I could hear him settling in and getting comfortable.

  I sank into my pillow and stared at the shadows on the ceiling. With each second that ticked by, the tension that had locked my body eased another notch. I wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. I wish
ed Ben would say something, but wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what he had to say.

  Except . . . he was here. He hadn’t gone anywhere. He’d stayed, like I’d asked.

  A solid minute passed before I felt his fingers brush against my hand, where it rested between us, on top of the blanket. He traced my palm softly for what may have been only seconds, but felt like an eternity. Maybe because I hadn’t breathed since the first touch.

  “Go to sleep, Ana.”

  Though it was a whisper, his voice was closer than I expected, like he’d turned his head toward me.

  I swallowed the bundle of nerves lodged in my throat. “I can’t.”

  “Try.”

  Another minute passed, and I gave up on deciphering the reason for the strain I heard behind that one word. I turned onto my side, facing away from Ben, hoping that putting my back to him would make it easier to ignore that he was there. Then again . . .

  My spine stiffened when his arm slipped around me, and he hugged me to him. My back pressed to his chest, and I refused to move—not even to breathe. More minutes passed with neither of us moving. Eventually, the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back lulled me to the brink of sleep.

  I might have already been asleep. It might have been a dream, but I swore his grip on me tightened moments before the exhaustion pulled me under.

  Needless to say, I have been grounded since the moment I got home. Supposedly Ben was too. School, baseball practice, and either the farm or his home—those were the only places he could go. He, at least, could get out. I wasn’t allowed to leave the house, not even to do my chores, when Ben was there. I noticed that Ma watched him with an extra vigilant eye now. Our friendship—or whatever it was—was nonexistent since we didn’t interact at school.

  Perhaps some distance from him was a good thing. Since that kiss, I hadn’t known what to think. About our friendship. About him. Definitely not about what the kiss might have meant—if anything. I was leaning more to the side of it meaning nothing, considering Ben’s avoidance of the subject—and me—the next morning.

  Being grounded left me with way too much time to think. My mama dominated my thoughts, followed closely by the father I wish I’d never sought out. Thoughts of Ben crept in when I least expected them to—in the shower, in the middle of my geometry test, at night when I was trying to sleep. It was annoying how often I found myself thinking about him now. School was my only distraction . . . until I occasionally spotted him sauntering down the hallway.

  The spring dance was in two weeks. I accepted an invitation by Johnny Whitmore, a junior that I shared a few classes with, to go as his date.

  But first, baseball season kicked off on my first day of freedom. Since Johnny was one of the star players on the team, he invited me to come watch him play. As my reward for enduring solitary confinement for two weeks, I agreed to go.

  Jen came with me. Sitting on the bottom row of bleachers, with nearly the entire student body behind us, she drilled me again for details on my road trip with Ben.

  She had been a trooper at keeping my mind off of my mama the past two weeks, mostly using Ben as a discussion piece when she saw my eyes start to glaze over in grief. Since she’d first heard the reason for my grounding, she’d wanted to know how we spent every second of our trip. So far, I had skimmed the details, but I was quickly learning that skimming was not an option for this girl.

  “That can’t be it.” She made a face like she was disappointed. “You were alone with him for an entire day, and that’s all you’ve got?”

  I took a deep breath and cast a cautious glance over my shoulder. Jen leaned forward with wide eyes.

  “That’s not it,” she concluded gleefully.

  “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Of course,” she squealed quietly. “I knew there was more to it.”

  “He kissed me,” I whispered.

  “He kiss—”

  My hand shot out to cover her mouth at her outburst. After peeking over my shoulder to ensure no one was eavesdropping on our conversation, I leveled a warning glare at her. “Keep your mouth shut, or I won’t tell you anything.”

  Wide-eyed, she nodded and mumbled something against my hand that sounded close enough to an agreement for me to remove my hand.

  I wasn’t sure why, aside from the fact that I wanted to tell someone, but I told her everything. From the drive, to Ben getting jumped, the night in the hotel room, and finally the big kiss. “We both have been grounded, so I haven’t really seen him since,” I finished glumly.

  She nodded her head toward the dugout, where the team sat, waiting their turn to bat. I picked Johnny out on the bench when he lifted a hand to wave. I wiggled my fingers in return, but my eyes were drawn to the side, where Ben took a few practice swings in his blue and white jersey.

  “Talk to him after the game,” Jen suggested.

  I made a face. “Doesn’t that seem a little . . .”

  I didn’t know. Desperate? Not the look I wanted to go for.

  Jen worried her lip while Ben strolled to the plate. “He sure does have a cute butt.”

  I couldn’t help it—I laughed. Nor could I help the downward shift of my eyes—she was right.

  A pitch was thrown, and Ben let it pass. Ball.

  “When do you normally see him when you’re not grounded?” Jen inquired.

  I shrugged. “Just around the farm. He works. I come and go. Sometimes we talk a little. Most of the time, we don’t. And he hasn’t been there as much lately, since baseball season started.”

  Another pitch—a strike. Ben stepped out of the batter’s box to glance toward his coach, who signaled him with a series of random hand gestures. He stepped back into the box and dug in before the next pitch came. It was high and fast, but he swung for it. Nearly every person sitting in the bleachers stood, in unison, when the ball cracked off of his bat.

  “It’s gone!” someone called from behind me.

  I watched the ball soar through the air like a rocket. It looked like a sure homerun, but the ball hit the fence and bounced back onto the field. The outfielder fielded the ball as Ben rounded second base, heading for third. One of our players crossed home plate, tying the game, while the ball was thrown to second. The coach standing at third base dropped to the ground, slapping the dirt with both hands, and I jumped to my feet along with everyone else. Ben slid as the third baseman caught the ball. I lost sight of him, and the ball, in the cloud of dirt. But we all saw the umpire’s arms shoot out to his sides.

  “Safe!”

  A roar of cheers erupted from the bleachers. I jumped on my toes, joining in on the excitement and celebration. Another player stepped up to the plate, but my eyes were fixed on third base, where Ben had positioned himself a few steps off the base in preparation for a quick sprint to home plate. The front of his uniform was covered in dirt. I couldn’t see his face clearly thanks to the helmet on his head, but I swore I saw a cocky grin on his lips.

  Not that he didn’t have a right to be cocky. Not after that hit.

  “So . . .” Jen leaned closer to whisper. “You a baseball fan yet?”

  I nodded my head. After today, I thought I might be.

  The Stone Creek Sentinels ended up having a great inning, scoring two more runs. They held on to the lead to win, eight to six. Storm clouds started to roll in soon after the last out was called, and the teams hurried off the field.

  I eyed the sky warily. I wished I had paid more attention to the weather forecast. From the look of it, I wouldn’t make the fifteen-minute walk home before the sky opened up.

  “Hey, Ana!”

  I jumped, and nearly tumbled off the bleachers as I spun around to find Ben grinning at me. The bruising around his eye had faded into a deep yellowish-orange color, and nothing but a faint white line sliced through his eyebrow now. I hadn’t thought it possible, but both gave him an even cockier edge.

  “You alright?”

  “No thanks to you,” I returned drily.
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br />   His grin didn’t waver. “I’ve got to head to the locker room to change, and go over a few things with Coach,” he explained quickly. “If you want to wait in the truck for a few minutes, I’ll drive you home after.”

  I stared at his outstretched hand, and the keys he offered me, dumbfounded.

  “Unless you’d rather get stuck out in the rain. It does kind of . . .” He twirled his finger around in front of him. “ . . . make your hair all wild. Which . . .” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, that’s not a bad thing. But I’d feel better knowing you weren’t going to get struck by lightning.”

  I glanced at Jen to find her beaming as she looked between Ben and me.

  “Can you take Jen home too?” I asked.

  She shifted so that she was standing behind him, and shook her head rapidly. She may have wanted us to go alone, but I didn’t want her to get struck by lightning any more than Ben wanted me to. Ben peered over his shoulder, and Jen promptly put on a blank expression.

  “No problem,” Ben agreed. He placed the keys into my palm before backing away. “I’ve got to go. Truck’s in the parking lot. I assume you can find it?”

  He didn’t wait for me to respond before he hurried off after the rest of the team as they ran toward the school. In the mix was Johnny, who darted a few curious glances over his shoulder in my direction. I appeased him with a friendly smile as Jen and I angled in the opposite direction, toward the parking lot along with the other spectators.

  “What were you thinking?” Jen reprimanded me while we walked. “He obviously wanted to get you alone.”

  “He only offered because of the weather,” I countered.

  “I don’t know, Ana,” she mused. “Bennett’s not known for driving girls home just to spare them from a little rain.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”