Senior Semester: All The While Part 25

"Or maybe he just really cares about you and is waiting for you to make the first move?" Emma tries again.

"Maybe." I tilt my head to the right. Yeah, I could see Zack waiting for a cue from me to make sure I'm comfortable with increasing the physicality of our relations.h.i.+p.

"You know what I think you should do?" Emma says, leaning forward, a smile playing over her lips.

"What?"

"Talk to him and be honest."

"Ugh." I groan, face-palming myself. "Why didn't I think of that?" I shake my head, cutting her a look. "Obviously I don't want to come right out and say it, and that's why I'm asking if you have any other ideas."

Emma shakes her head. "You really like him. I've never seen you shy away from having some awkward conversation like this before."

"I know." I groan again, huffing. "Just help me okay?"

She nods, her face turning serious. "Just, initiate it. The next time y'all are snuggling or whatever. Make a move, Maura. Lord knows you're not shy."

I grimace. My past few months of one-night stands flash before my eyes.

"I didn't mean it like that. I meant that you're comfortable with who you are, confident. So be yourself and guide him along and if he's uncomfortable, he'll pull back or try to talk to you about it, and then you guys can go from there. But I highly, highly doubt he'll pull back."

I nod in agreement, thinking about Emma's solution. It does make sense. I could just make a move and see how Zack responds. And hopefully if I make the right move, it will result in the earth-shattering s.e.x I've been dreaming about.

That night Zack walks through my dorm door just before 10:00 PM. I'm already ready for bed, this time opting to forgo my sleep shorts and just wearing boy shorts and a long-sleeve thermal s.h.i.+rt that barely covers my a.s.s. I'm leaning against my headboard, a textbook propped on my bent legs, skimming the reading for cla.s.s tomorrow.

"Hey," Zack says, bending down to place a kiss on my cheek. "How was your day?" His eyes widen slightly as he takes in my bare legs, his eyes perusing me slowly, a smile ghosting his lips as his gaze lingers on the toe ring on my left foot.

"Pretty good. I submit two of my final papers this week. And my Photography final is coming along, nearly done. You?"

He nods, sitting down at the foot of my bed and straightening my legs so my feet rest in his lap. "Good. I'm curious to see your final project." He smiles at me, and I remember the day we talked about the Photography topic and the different ideas I had. Except now I'm actually incorporating some of them into the final presentation. I wonder what Zack will think when he sees it? "My day was okay. Better now that I'm here."

I smile at his sweetness, closing my book with a thud and dropping it on the floor next to my bed. Pulling my legs out of his lap, I s.h.i.+ft so that I'm kneeling next to him. "Do you have any studying to do?"

He shakes his head, smirking. "Nope, I'm all yours."

I nod slowly. Make a move, Maura. And it's ridiculous, really, that in this moment with a guy I've shared more secrets with than anyone in the past few months I'm suddenly nervous. I never felt nervous with Hector or any of the randoms, but with Zack everything's different. He's the one who makes me feel like myself again, like I'm finally whole. He's the one who has the ability to rip me to pieces all over again.

My palms feel sweaty and my heart thuds loudly in my chest. I study his face for any type of hesitancy, but he just looks at me expectantly. I can do this.

"Good," I say finally and my voice is low and husky with a hint of my nerves skirting around the edges of my tone. Placing my hands on the tops of his shoulders, I throw my right knee across his lap so I'm straddling him. Grasping my left wrist behind his neck, I s.h.i.+ft my weight so I'm lined up with him perfectly. I smile slowly at the surprise that crosses his face, the widening of his eyes, the way his teeth suck in his lower lip. He shakes his head in question, but I don't let his surprise deter me.

Instead, I lower my mouth to his, sinking down from my knees until I'm perched in his lap, and kiss him. Slowly, carefully, reverently.

And it takes exactly three seconds for all of Zack's restraint to snap completely.

Chapter Fifty-One.

Zack

Maura's kiss takes me by surprise. But the instant my mind registers that she's straddling me, kissing me, leaning into me with soft touches, my body reacts and the careful delicacy I've been treating her with morphs into a fire of want. I've been trying for weeks now to hold back, not to push her or make her uncomfortable but now that she's made the first move, all bets are off, and I can finally allow myself to crave her more than my next breath.

Flipping her beneath me, her back hits the center of the mattress as I hover above her on my hands and knees, staring down at her wide and wild eyes, the soft smile working its way across her swollen lips, the glow dusting her cheeks. Jesus, if she isn't the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And after tonight, I'm going to make sure she's one hundred percent mine.

Her fingers come up slowly, tugging on the collar of my hoodie, as she pulls me closer. And that's all the encouragement I need to dip my lips down to her waiting mouth, cover her body with my own. I kiss her hard, loving when her lips part beneath mine, giving me access to her mouth. My tongue darts in slowly, dancing with hers, as my left hand grips her hip, my right fisted in her hair, my forearm trying to keep my weight off of her. Her palms slide up my ribcage, pulling my T-s.h.i.+rt and hoodie up as she goes. When she gets to my shoulders, I push up onto my knees to tug both over my head before collapsing back over her frame. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes in my bare chest, her fingers exploring gently as I capture her mouth in another kiss. The touch of her lips lights me like fire and all I want is to consume her until we both burn out together.

I roll onto my side, pulling her body toward me. My right hand cradles her face as she presses her cheek against my fingers. My left hand slides against the smooth skin of her bare thigh, my fingers playing with the bottom of her boy shorts. Gliding my hand over her hip, I work my way under her thermal s.h.i.+rt until I reach the swell of her breast. She moans lightly as I palm her, working her nipple between my thumb and index finger.

And that sound is the last thing I hear as we crash into each other at a frenzied pace. The sweet and slow igniting into hard and desperate. Her fingers make short work of the b.u.t.tons on my jeans. I roll her over me so she's straddling me once more and pull her s.h.i.+rt up and off in one swift movement. She leans down to kiss me, and I let her have the upper hand for several moments before flipping her beneath me again. Her legs fall open as my knee nudges between them. She tugs my jeans lower. I s.h.i.+mmy her boy shorts down her hips, past her thighs, over her knees, until they pool near her feet. My boxers disappear next. Hovering over her, her eyes widen, vulnerability mixed with desire. Her teeth rake over her bottom lip and I inhale, drinking her in. I dig around in the pocket of my discarded jeans for my wallet and flip it open to grab a condom.

"Maura, you sure about this?" I ask her, giving her an out. Things just moved really fast and even though the chemistry between us is exploding, I need to know that her head is in the right place.

She nods. "Yes. I want this. I want this with you."

And those are the only words I need to hear before capturing her lips once more. Her fingers find me and my mouth finds her, and we tangle together in hot moments of exploration, desperation, and urgency.

Maura and I fall back to reality tangled in each other's sweaty embraces, our breathing deep and labored. Soft curls stick to her forehead and the back of her neck. My hand ghosts over the dip of her hip before settling on the smooth skin of her stomach. I pull her back into my chest and kiss the back of her neck. She sighs and we both sink into the pillows lining her headboard.

"That was ..." She trails off.

I run my nose down the curve of her neck, resting my forehead against the top of her shoulder where I press another kiss.

"Amazing." Her voice is breathless, a mixture of awe and relief and giddiness.

I nod into her shoulder. "You're amazing."

She laughs lightly, turning over in my arms so her hands are curled up against my chest. "I didn't think ... I didn't know it could be like that," she admits, a faint blush working its way up her neck.

I bite my bottom lip. "Like what?"

"Like..." she sighs, her eyes trained on her clasped hands as she gathers her thoughts "...like more than just physical. That was more than anything I've ever experienced before. I can't really explain it but it was just ... more. A connection. I don't know. I'm not making sense, am I?" She looks up at me then, her eyes wide with wonder.

I chuckle, brus.h.i.+ng a kiss to the top of her head. G.o.d, I can't keep my hands off her. Or my lips. "It makes sense. I get what you're saying. And," I hold her chin with my finger to make sure she sees the truth in my eyes, "I felt it too."

Maura breaths out in relief before tucking her head under my chin and snuggling up next to me.

And d.a.m.n, I don't want to give her any more s.p.a.ce, any more time to figure anything out. This changed things. I want her to be mine, and I want to be hers and that's the end of it. From here on out we should tackle everything, all of the hurdles she's trying to get past and all of the challenges that come up, together. As a couple.

"Maura." I pull back slightly and dip my head, trying to catch her eyes.

"Hmm?" She looks up sleepily, her eyes glazed with the dreamy afterglow of phenomenal s.e.x and the pull of sleep.

"Be with me."

"I am with you," she says, confusion lacing her tone.

"Be with me for real. Be my girlfriend." I watch her face closely as the confusion disappears and a happiness I've yet to see cross Maura's face blossoms in her cheeks, s.h.i.+nes from her eyes.

She nods, a smile crossing her lips as she pulls me in for a kiss. "Yes."

I hug her close then and she buries her face into my chest once more. And as I hold her, my hand lazily drawing circles on her back, we both drift into sleep.

Chapter Fifty-Two.

Maura

I have a boyfriend.

How crazy is that? After months of trying to lose myself in Hector and the no names from clubs, I finally found myself in the arms of Zack, Adrian's best friend. It's strange how life works out sometimes, isn't it? How people fall apart and come together again. How we're all connected through some weird degrees of separation. The way it almost seems like Adrian sent Zack to find me, to heal me, to keep me. It's as if everything is the way it should be, the way it's finally supposed to be. And that is a huge relief.

And everything with Zack is different. The way I feel when I'm with him, the b.u.t.terflies that flutter in my stomach when his name flashes across the screen of my phone, but mostly the me I am now that he's come into my life. I don't try to be anything I'm not with him. There is no s.e.xy, edgy, damaged Maura trying to flaunt my cleavage or make up my eyes with sultry shadows. In fact, sometimes I'm almost shy around him, as if I don't want him to have a negative impression of the person I became in the wake of Adrian's death. Not that I think Zack looks at me like that, but I don't want to give him any reason to. It's like I've grown back into myself, the Maura I was before-just with a superhot boyfriend now.

I want to tell Mia, Lila, and Emma. I'm desperate to share my news and have them meet Zack, not as Adrian's sidekick but as my man. I pick up the phone several times to FaceTime them. I sit at my computer and begin typing the words in an email, but then I hold myself back. These girls, my best friends, have just spent nearly four months on their own having grand adventures and meeting guys, traveling and trying new things, pus.h.i.+ng past their comfort zones and falling in love. I'm the one who stayed behind. I'm the one who didn't think anything amazing or epic was going to happen to me. They're going to have a million wild tales and funny stories. Shouldn't I wait to surprise them with my news so I have something to share?

Not to mention that Lila's guy, Cade, planned a surprise reunion for all of us on January 7 in New York City. It will be an awesome night for us to reunite and share all the craziness from this semester. So instead of spilling the beans prematurely, I'm going to show up to see my best friends with Zack Huntington by my side.

For now I focus on my final exams and the insane practice schedule Kay is forcing us to complete before winter break. I reach out to my cousins to sort out the Secret Santa's for Christmas. I begin packing up my single dorm, relieved that I won't have all the s.p.a.ce and silence surrounding me next semester. And I revel in the delicious secret that Zack Huntington is my boyfriend.

Wiping the sweat collecting in my palms against the heavy wool of my gray miniskirt, I remind myself to breathe. Inhale, exhale, clear your mind. You're going to be fine. But when I look out into the sea of faces comprising my Photography cla.s.s, I feel anything but fine. I feel nauseous, dizzy, as if I could pa.s.s out right here.

Clad in black boots, black tights, a gray mini, and a white b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt, I look the part for my presentation. But I don't feel the confidence required to speak about my a.s.signment, my emotions, the world I see through my lens in front of nearly twenty people.

"Maura." Professor Minela smiles warmly. "Whenever you're ready."

Deep breath. Inhale, exhale, clear your mind.

You're going to be fine.

"Good morning," I begin, smiling nervously as my voice shakes slightly. I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. "My name is Maura Rodriguez and I'm a senior at McShain University. I'm a member of the women's rowing team and have been since I started at McShain. Some of you may have heard of me, particularly after my twin brother, Adrian..." I pause briefly, looking my cla.s.smates in the eye; the room is silent, their eyes focused on me. "...died last March. When I first chose my topic for this a.s.signment, I was p.i.s.sed."

A couple t.i.tters sound around the room before silence ensues again.

"I thought my topic was unfair, given my situation, given the grief I was dealing with."

Several students sit up straighter, lean forward in their seats. I have their attention. All of them. And for some reason, instead of making me shake in panic, their focus on my presentation is calming. This, this is a story I can tell. This is my truth. And I'm tired of hiding from it.

"But really, I was just afraid. Scared that if I really started to delve into my topic, everyone would be able to see that I've become it." I smile wryly. "Because my topic is broken. And that's the only way to describe how I've felt since Adrian died."

I turn to my first photograph, placed on a stand in front of the entire room. There are four of them, all lined up, telling the story of my healing. Removing the white boards in front of each photograph, I place them in the corner as a gasp trickles through the crowd. My final project is on full display. Swallowing the emotions in my throat, I turn back to the room and walk to stand next to the first photo.

A variety of different-colored, various-shaped pills, all crushed and broken and crumbled fills the photo. Among the pills sit several prescription vials, empty among the browning, dying gra.s.s of early winter. "I was inspired to create and take this photo because this is how I became broken." I sigh. "My brother overdosed on prescription painkillers that were laced with fentanyl. He had been taking pills without the knowledge of a doctor for weeks to self-medicate an old back injury in order to be able to row. Hiding his addiction from his family, his friends, his teammates, I imagine he thought he had everything under control. I don't think he ever realized how fragmented his decision would leave us all. I don't think he ever considered that a bunch of broken pills could end his life."

I fist my fingers in my skirt for a moment, collecting myself as I walk to my second photograph. It's a photo of broken beer bottles, cut off at their necks, wine bottles smas.h.i.+ng in midair, crushed vodka and tequila bottles thrown in on the black asphalt for good measure. The gla.s.s is s.h.i.+ning on the pavement of the parking lot, the sunlight reflecting off the colors. "Trading one vice for another," I joke. Professor Minela smiles encouragingly. "The second photograph for my final project is what I turned to in the wake of Adrian's death. Alcohol. Lots and lots of drinking. I thought consuming enough alcohol would make me forget, would help numb all the feelings rus.h.i.+ng through me, all the anger that I couldn't process. I mistakenly thought that by going out and partying, I was moving on. But really, I was just allowing myself to wallow in my brokenness, because drinking didn't really fix anything. It just provided a bit of a pause. Allowed me check out of my reality for a bit. Eventually, it all comes cras.h.i.+ng down though." I flash a tight smile at my cla.s.s before discussing the technicality of the photo: the ridiculously fast exposure time necessary to capture the breaking wine bottles, the shutter release trigger I used with help from advanced equipment I had to borrow-and swear over and over not to break-from the Photography supervisor, additional softboxes I used for lighting. This was a difficult photograph to capture and it took several tries. Luckily, I had the extra empty wine bottles. Plus, the added gla.s.s already broken on the ground added to the image I was hoping to capture.

"And this brings me to my third photograph." I study the photo for a moment. It's difficult to make out what it is since it's such a close up. But if you do take the time to study the picture, you can tell that it's the yarn of blankets, in the pale pastels that comprise a nursery. A soft pink, a light yellow, a muted blue, a sweet green. The yarn is knitted in different patterns and the colors blend together with bits of white running through them, separating them, joining them. "I took this photo using the macro mode and no flash. I used the timer and a tripod to ensure no movement. This is a photograph of baby blankets, representing broken dreams." I gulp at the air then, trying to keep my tears checked. And while I'm not going to share with my cla.s.s about the loss of my baby, it didn't feel right overlook the role he or she played in my healing process. Because the truth is that my baby helped me find hope for the future again, my baby gave me a moment of clarity, a purpose, that spurred my healing journey. "When we are babies," I continue, my voice steady once more, "our parents have all of these amazing dreams for us. For the people we will grow into, for the things we will accomplish, for the pa.s.sions we will embrace. As we grow older, those dreams s.h.i.+ft and change and develop. And sometimes, those dreams are cut short completely. But for that short amount time while we are wrapped tight in the soft blankets of our childhood, anything seems possible, everything within reach. And nothing is really broken. Until we break it ourselves." I take a step forward, clasping my hands in front of me. "And strangely, sometimes it's the loss of a dream, the loss of an expectation that gives us the clarity and the strength to move forward. For me, this photograph represents loss just as much as it represents hope. And for me, this photo is meant to heal broken."

I exhale slowly and walk over to the final photograph. It's a series of four oars slicing through the Schuylkill River, interrupting its smoothness, its calm, and creating a ripple. I explain the slow shutter speed and small aperture I used to capture the droplets of water dripping from the oars, falling back to the water. "This is a photograph I took of the LaFarge men's team practicing. My brother rowed for LaFarge. In the photo we can see the oars slicing through the water, breaking its flat surface, turning a smooth surface into a choppy, tumultuous one. I chose to take this photo for several reasons. After Adrian's death, after I broke, rowing seemed like both a curse and a salvation to me. It was a curse because it tied me to so many memories I had of my brother, some I was trying to forget. And it was a salvation because it tied me to so many memories I had of my brother, some I would give anything to remember in perfect clarity. Rowing was always the thing I turned to when I couldn't shut my mind off, it instills me with a peaceful clarity, a calmness that helps me process, helps me make sense of things. It was an important component in trying to mend some of the cracks I was struggling with. And lastly, I always loved that moment, the one at the start where all the boats are lined up. The sun is s.h.i.+ning down on us and for an instant, everything is perfectly still. Sounds cease, the sh.e.l.ls are in a perfectly straight line, and even the water stops moving. It's this complete calmness before utter chaos begins. A sort of calm before the storm. A moment of still before the moment breaks." I smile openly and it feels genuine. "But the moment of crazy chaos that comes afterwards is amazing. And I've learned this semester, especially through this a.s.signment that sometimes broken is beautiful and that being broken, feeling pain and anguish and despair, can eventually make you really, fully whole. Thank you."

I stand still as the cla.s.s drinks in my photographs for one more moment before applause breaks out. Professor Minela comes forward and wraps an arm around my shoulders as my cla.s.smates continue to clap before Q and A.

I release a shaky breath and smile, relieved that my presentation is over, pleased with the overall outcome of my final project, and finally feeling like some of my jagged, broken pieces are starting to fit back together.

Chapter Fifty-Three.

Zack

It's strange, that moment when you walk into a home you've been in a thousand times, sometimes treated like your own, and everything is suddenly different. Or maybe you're just different. That's the way it feels as I walk into the Rodriguez home at Maura's side. It's as if the million memories of me sitting at the dinner table as Adrian's friend, sleeping over and helping myself to coffee in the morning, spending holidays with the family, chatting with Adrian's aunts and laughing with his cousins never really happened. Because now I'm not here as Adrian's best friend but as Maura's boyfriend. And everything suddenly feels different even though the house is exactly the same.