BAM

Chapter 7

I watch him parade down the hall and back, complimenting himself and laughing cockily as I make him a sandwich; I cannot fathom how his efforts were returned with such a reward. I was there, I watched him fail epically conversation wise with Cecelia – but apparently, his conversational skills weren’t so lacking as he’s ended up with a date.

Maybe it’s because he’s so direct – he came right out and asked what he wanted to ask, despite my throat cutting motions – you’ve got to admire a guy who knows what he wants and doesn’t mess around about it. Cecelia only looked pleasantly surprised at the time and shrugged her shoulders, beaming, “Sure, why not?”

Sure, why not, let’s have a go. Cecelia Aston sure is keen, going out with boys she’s just met despite their flaws and lack of etiquette; Bam ate all three of her donuts, just because she said she didn’t want them. I’m sure she didn’t say it as an offering and yet she let him take them all; Bam profusely thanking her after swallowing down a bite and liking it. He never thanks me for anything. I look down at the sandwich as I cut it down the middle with a butter knife; he’s not going to thank me for this either.

Sighing I put down the knife and run a hand through my hair; the moment I take my hands off of the sandwich he’s into the kitchen, grabbing it before my very eyes and stuffing a half into his mouth. I look up, eyeing him as he leans into the counter, chewing noisily. Thank God he has the decency to chew with his mouth closed. Wrinkling my nose I put away the plate I brought out for his sandwich – why do I even bother?

“Are you okay?” Bam wants to know, swallowing and eyeing me curiously with his bright green eyes. I shrug, looking away from him and trying to turn my frown upside down; I mean, him taking her on a date – whatever his idea of a date is – means I get a Friday off babysitting him. It’s a good thing he’s meeting other people, finding better things to do than hang around me. It means more time to do the things I like doing. Feeling fingertips brush my fringe my eyes snap to his and he flicks something off his hand, “You had butter in your hair.”

“Terrific,” I drawl, trying to ignore the increase of my pulse. Ben walks in through the door, carrying Princess in his arms and making baby noises at her; she yips when she sees me and starts scratching at my brother’s skin.

Laughing, he sets her down on the floor and upon meeting my eyes shakes her leash at me, “Princess is getting very annoyed at you, and she’d like to say since you’ve been missing out on all these walks that you’ve gained a whole lot of weight.”

Rolling my eyes I bring her into my arms, moving my head as she tries to lick at my cheeks; I haven’t gained anything, have I? Looking down past the little dog attacking my chest and eyeing my belly critically I decide that no, no I haven’t. Still the same amount of fat that I can’t seem to gain or lose.

Ben flings the leash at me and I catch it with a hand, bringing it over her head and tightening it, “Okay baby dog, I can see how you don’t want mama getting fat – let’s eliminate that possibility shall we?”

“You’re not fat,” Bam says, swallowing the last of his sandwich and eyeing my stomach, “lacking muscle, but not fat.”

“Thanks, I think.” Arching my eyebrows at him I drop Princess back onto the ground and hold up a hand, waving briefly, “I’ll be back sooner or later; Ben will entertain you.”

Bam sort of grunts his response, yawning and pressing his face into the counter. I smirk; probably been a pretty big day for him, getting a date, getting chased by girls – doing something other than reading and watching TV, which is all he seems to be doing lately here. Princess yips at my feet, and I look down into her big brown doting eyes; eyes demanding my attention.

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” I reassure her, following her crazed scamper out into the hall, “I’m going.”

Eyes closed I walk along the street, furrowing my eyebrows; trying to ignore the thoughts, the questions, attacking my brain. I don’t know why I’m getting so worked up about a stupid date. I mean, sure she can do better, sure she said yes right away without any consideration – sure she’s going on a date with a cave man, and I’m letting her. But like she said when Bam walked away to go to the bathroom – what’s it to me?

I hardly care enough about her that I’m going to freak out about her having a potentially awful date. No offense to her, or anything. It’s just the truth. It doesn’t make sense that it’s bothering me so much, because admittedly it is really bothering me. I can’t keep my mind on anything else. I’ve tried putting my mind to school projects to TV shows I like. But then all I can think about is how much Bam likes Buffy or how Bam is doing learning maths.

Bam. Bam. Bam. He’s plaguing my mind and I’m beginning to realise why – and I don’t like it one, single little bit. I’m not stupid, and I do realise it’s not normal to have my thoughts focused on one person for an extended period of time. I know what a crush is, and to my mortification I’m starting to get one on Bam; this is not good – not good at all! Because having a crush on someone who likes someone else is hopeless not to mention just…Bam? No.

No. No. No. I don’t want to have a crush on Bam. I don’t even know why I do. His only redeeming factor is that he’s completely gorgeous – but I’d like to think I’m not so shallow. Like to think. But what other reason is there? Do I like following his orders? That’s a little anti-feminist of me. That’s a betrayal of my gender. It’s just reinforcing all the values he’s had in him since a boy; boy strong, girl weak. Boy protect girl from men and other such wild beasts. Boy hit girl over head and drag her back to his cave. Girl enslaved for life.

That’s so not how I want to live. I’m not going to be dominated by some male just because he has a pretty face; if I’m going to be with someone things are going to be equal. Split right down the middle. No more rights for the boy, no more rights for the girl. Let’s just face it – Bam is from the Stone Age, which means that’s never going to happen; even if he does realise his great, undying love for me.

Great, undying and nonexistent love.

Anyway, I’m taking this realisation the wrong way. It’s not bad that I now know I have a crush on the guy; in fact it’s a really good thing. It’s best to nip this stupid crush in the bud before it can blossom into an impossible infatuation. God, that’d be the worst.

But how? How will I get over it? It’s not exactly like I’ve had much experience, especially with a boy I actually know and talk to. Bam’s the first boy outside my family I’ve known and talked to. So what am I going to do? I can’t ask any girl pals, my mother will get all embarrassing on me and my brothers and dad will find it totally weird. Plus – they’d want to know who.

I know; I’ll look it up on the internet. I’m so silly. The internet knows all.

“Hey, princess,” I nearly jump out of my skin, and probably would have if it were not for Noah’s arm around my waist anchoring me to the ground. I look down at the hands and at my gaze they tighten about me, sending little tingles up my spine. He purrs into my ear, pulling some of my hair behind it, “How’s it going?”

“Great,” I say, pulling myself from his grasp and narrowing my eyes at his; but they just twinkle back innocently, “please keep all of your appendages a ruler width apart from my person at all times.”

“You love it.” he winks at me and I roll my eyes, speeding up my pace to try and lose him. Reaching forward he latches a hand around my wrist, “Hey; not so fast. I have a proposition for you.”

Tugging my hand is useless, and so I sigh and turn back to him, “What?”

Noah bites his lip, and looks away for a second; expression thoughtful. I hope I haven’t hurt his feelings – despite him being incredibly annoying he doesn’t need my derision. Maybe that’s what he wants to talk about. Oh who am I kidding? He makes up innuendos about me. He deserves the derision. But still, he looks nervous. I don’t know why he’s looking nervous. He’s talking to me. Me. I am hardly what you call intimidating.

Tilting my head, I furrow my brows; he appears to be trying to say something, but every time he tries he seems to think better of it. I wonder what he’s going to ask. Is it something really embarrassing? That would explain his silence, his hesitancy. But why would embarrassing questions be directed at me for? I’m hardly close to the guy and have little to no life experience that would render me wise.

Oh wait. WAIT. I know what this is about. He’s going to ask me what Bam meant about him being in my room last night. Is he going to expect me to explain that? I guess it’s not going to be so hard. Bam didn’t imply he went to bed with me, just that he was there when I went to bed. It’s easily explained, if you think about it. I’ll just say yeah, he tucked me in, but then he went home. That’s it.

Opening my mouth I’m about to save his embarrassment when he takes my hands in his and steps into my personal space, looking down at me with a weird expression on his face; I’m getting a bad feeling about this. I look down at the hands that encircle my own and gulp – a really bad feeling. I’m starting to think this isn’t at all to do with last night.

“Braiden,” he starts, and I look into his eyes – big mistake on my part, as with the intensity of his gaze I feel compelled to return it. Not break it, and run away, which is what I want to be doing. “I think I like you, a lot, and I know you like him. But he doesn’t like you that way –” I wince, ouch much? “ – I think you should give me a chance, princess; I’ll treat you like the nickname.”

I return his own half-playful, half-serious gaze with a blank one – trying to conceal my horror. Not at the notion of him going out with me (although that doesn’t really appeal as my heart has decided – against my will – that it belongs to another) but at how I’m supposed to react to his proposition. I’ve never exactly been asked out before, not once. It sends me into a panic thinking about all the repercussions of any given response.

A) I could say no but then he might get angry and start being mean to me at school for rejecting him and damaging his precious male ego. I’ve read, watched and heard about these things happening. People can get bitter about this stuff. Real bitter.

B) I could say no and he could start crying right in front of me; this is very unlikely, but some boys have been known to take part in this sort of melodrama. I don’t think Noah’s the type to but it’s not like I know him very well. It could happen, and it would totally freak me out.

C) I could say no and he might king hit me and I might go home, like people have done before, and die because of not taking evasive action. I’m known for not taking evasive action.

Or D) I could say yes, despite really feeling anything for him. But feelings are things that grow, right? They could grow. I could end up feeling really strongly about him and losing any notions I have concerning Bam. This’d be great, in fact – it might just work.

It might just work. Grinning, I squeeze Noah’s hands, “Sure.”

Noah blinks at me, and looks like he doesn’t really believe what I’m saying. Clearing his throat, and furrowing his brows, he asks slowly, “Do you know what I’m asking?”

“You’re asking me out,” I say, blinking, “unless that isn’t what you meant by giving you a chance, in which case,” I cough, feeling a little mortified, tugging my hands out of his, “I take what I said back.”

Stepping quickly backwards and about to turn around I feel my whole body heating up with embarrassment – but he grabs me by the wrist for the second time that day and grins at me, “That’s exactly what I meant, I was just worried you didn’t know that,” he looks down at my lips, “so you know what being my girlfriend entails?”

Kissing. My eyes go wide – I never considered that aspect; what if he wants me to be some kind of kissing expert? I don’t know how to kiss anyone. I’ve never kissed anyone. I’ve only read and seen other people kissing, what if I do it all wrong and he tells his friends? Wait. Since when do I care that much about what other people think? I don’t. But still. Kissing; am I really ready for that yet? It’s a small step for mankind, but a giant step for Braiden Fox.

Wait. Honesty. Relationships are about honesty. Clearing my throat, I say with nervous laughter, “Yes, but Noah; I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

I look at him, waiting for the taunting, the laughter. But he just grins even wider, “You do it like this.”

Before I can say another word he’s planted his hands on my hips and pulled me flush against him; I feel my cheeks go red, and then his lips land on mine. I close my eyes, trying to concentrate on the way it feels. But I don’t really get enough time to make up my mind because our kissing is interrupted via football to the face. Noah’s face.

Stumbling apart I look to the side only to discover we’ve been standing in front of my house the whole time, and that my brother and Bam were playing football in the backyard – only the ball had strayed out of the backyard and assaulted Noah’s face. I blink, watching Bam jog to it and pick it up with a hand, eyes on Noah, “Sorry.”

But he doesn’t sound very sorry, and he doesn’t run back to the backyard; he stands there, frowning at Noah. Who contrarily smirks right back at him, “Oh, that’s fine buddy but if you’ll let us continue…” he turns back to me, moving to cup my cheeks. I step back automatically.

“Another time,” I tell him, trying to console him with a smile; I can’t kiss him in front of Bam. It’d feel wrong, and incredibly weird. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you.” he concedes, ruffling my hair with a hand and sharing a parting look with Bam before walking next door.

Princess yips at my feet impatiently and I pick her up from the ground, holding her to my chest and stroking her. My first kiss, huh? I just had my first kiss. I’m not sure whether I liked it but I didn’t not like it. In fact, if someone were to ask whether I liked it or not – I’d say I liked it. That’s a start, considering he’s not the one that’s been making my heart pound as of late. It’s also a plus that he doesn’t talk like a cave person and/or demand I make him food.

I hear the person who does make my heart pound clear his throat – and I look up to find him glaring at me, “What was that?”

“Oh, well it’s called kissing –” I start and he glares bloody daggers at me, cutting me short.

“I know what kissing is, but why were you kissing him?” Bam wants to know, bouncing the foot ball on the grass but paying so little attention to what he’s doing it bounces off and away – escaping his awaiting fingers to instead roll onto the road. I look behind me, eyes widening; that’s my brother’s precious ball, it’s even signed by a famous foot ball player – is he trying to get it run over?

“My God Bam what is wrong with you? Even I can do better than that,” I turn around, heading onto the road and plucking the ball off the cement before it can get flattened, “got to watch what you’re doing, is your concentration low? Do you need more food?”

I carry the ball with me back into my front yard, and spy Ben waving for it in the back yard. Princess yips in my other arm, protesting about having to share my arms with a ball. I grin at Ben and wave, chucking it. It doesn’t go very far, but I’m not very good at sports. Princess yips in approval for me anyway. I watch Ben shake his head at me in shame and am about to laugh – but two hands land down on my shoulder, and tighten.

My eyes meet not only impatient green, but fiery green eyes, and Bam demands, “Why?”

“Because I’m going out with him.” I inform Bam, blinking; he’s acting more weird than normal. “Anyway, I’m going inside.”

Shrugging off his hands I brush past him towards the front door; what is his deal?

YEAH - what is HIS deal?

Sorry for taking so long to upload but guys guys I'm finished lit work for the term meaning I'll have a lot more time to be writing you things! Right now though it's super late...or super early in the morning. I stayed up this late for YOU. Is this chapter weird? I hope it's not weird...in any case I HAVE TAYLOR SWIFT TICKETS!

I shall be having sweet sweet dreams tonight.