My Skylar

  “Mitch…I already knew you loved me, and I knew how much it scared you to say those words. The way you look at me, the way your heart beats every time you hold me, what you did to your hair for me…actions speak louder than words, and you have been showing me how much you love me. That’s what matters.”

  “I feel like I won’t be able to breathe until you come home.”

  That day would be farther away than I could ever have anticipated.

  ***

  After her first round of chemo ended, cancer gave us a short break.

  At the end of that stretch, my prom rolled around and what was supposed to be the most special night of our lives, was anything but.

  She had looked so angelic in a white strapless dress. Her friend Nina had come all the way from Boston to help her get ready.

  Everything was fine up until we danced to a certain slow song, and then her mood dramatically changed for the rest of the night.

  After the prom, on the way to an after party at a hotel, she made a confession in the limo. She hadn’t wanted to ruin our night and had been holding back some news. That morning, her doctor had told her that tests showed a recurrence of the Lymphoma.

  It had felt like my tie was choking me, and I remember having to undo it because I felt like I was gonna hyperventilate.

  Not again.

  I ended up taking her home, and it turned out to be one of the worst nights of my life.

  The next phase was the lowest point in her cancer journey. A higher level of chemo was followed by a bone marrow transplant, which meant weeks of isolation and a long recovery.

  By the grace of God, her tests following that procedure were clear, and it seemed to have been a success.

  All in all, from the time she was first diagnosed, it took nearly two years before we would have her back for good.

  The months following her return home were the best of my life. Like a spring flower blossoming after a long season of rain, at 18, Skylar emerged from that hell somewhat changed but stronger and more beautiful than ever.

  CHAPTER 13

  SKYLAR

  In some ways, recovering from cancer is like coming home from war. You’re never fully able to leave it behind because the threat of getting called back always seems to loom. Regardless, you have to move on with your life.

  It also changed me. Material things were now insignificant; just being alive was good enough. At the same time, I was learning to live again, to develop a routine that didn’t involve treatments or the resulting side effects. You get your life back, but you don’t really know what to do with it. In a bizarre way, the cancer had become my normal, and freedom was now foreign to me.

  Since my father had arranged for tutoring on the days I felt up to it, I hadn’t really fallen too far behind while in Brooklyn. When I returned home, I was able to continue in the middle of my junior year at St. Clare’s.

  Mitch was a senior now. Despite his support over the course of my illness, any development of a physical relationship had been on hold. We were almost never alone during that time. Either that, or I was too sick to even look at him.

  Now, it felt like a giant pause button had been lifted on us. At 19, Mitch was so physically attractive that it was almost painful to be around him without touching. His body was ripped, and his hair had grown back longer, wavy and beautiful again. He still often piled it under that familiar Yankees cap but now sported a constant five o’clock shadow to complete the look. His skin had also tanned from working a new side job cutting lawns.

  As for me, my hair was now shoulder-length, and I had gained most of the weight back. Still, even with our newfound freedom, we were taking things slow. Mitch hadn’t made any moves even though I knew he wanted to, and that frustrated me. He was handling me with care because of my recovery, but that wasn’t what I wanted. It was what he thought I needed. But what I needed was him—in the worst way. His eyes always brimmed with desire when he looked at me, and I could feel his resistance running thinner each day. It was just a matter of time.

  ***

  “When exactly are you planning on telling her?”

  My mother and I were supposed to be at Mitch’s for dinner at six, but I had arrived early. While in the midst of a private conversation, Mitch and Janis hadn’t realized the living room window was open. I leaned in closer to hear.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Mitch…this is big. You shouldn’t keep this from her.”

  “I don’t want to discuss it right now, Mom. You know how I feel. Stop pressuring me.”

  The dialog stopped, and I assumed Mitch had gone upstairs.

  My chest tightened in anxiety as I rang the doorbell.

  Janis opened the door. “Oh…hi, honey. You’re early.”

  “My mother wanted me to put this chicken pot pie in your oven, so it would be nice and hot when we sat down.”

  “Sure, come in.” I smelled a hint of gasoline and knew it was from Mitch who had just returned home from cutting someone’s grass. She took the pie from me. “Mitch is upstairs.”

  I ran up and heard the shower running in the bathroom off the hallway, so I waited in his room.

  Pandora radio was streaming from his phone, and Seamus was bopping his head to Rapper’s Delight by the Sugar Hill Gang. That was his new thing. He was really into music—that and whistling at me lately.

  When the door opened, Mitch was wrapped in nothing but a small, white towel. “Whoa. I didn’t know you were here. I almost walked in stark naked.”

  My mouth watered as I marveled at how my childhood friend had transformed into an Adonis. The towel hugged his round ass perfectly. Droplets of water ran down his cut, tan chest. His wet hair was slick back and sexy.

  He raised his brow at me, his voice low and intentionally seductive. “Like what you see?”

  I cleared my throat. “Actually, I do.”

  Lay off the truth serum, Skylar.

  He smiled mischievously and licked his lips. “Good to know.” He grabbed a shirt from the closet and threw it on the chair. “You’re about to see a whole lot more if you don’t turn around.”

  My gaze lingered before I reluctantly turned toward the window. I started to obsess over the conversation on the way in until his voice snapped me out of it. “Safe.”

  He was still shirtless when I turned back around. This was not safe at all. His white underwear peeked through the top of his pants, and when I looked down, I noticed a thin trail of hair leading down to the arousal straining against his jeans.

  He walked toward me, pulled me up into a standing position and leaned into me, his hot erection pressing into my stomach.

  Our lips were almost touching. I was throbbing between my legs when he gripped some of the material of my skirt, and his hot breath tickled my mouth. “I like the way you were looking at me. Actually, it’s made me a little crazy. It’s like you were eye-fucking me. It makes me want to just—”

  The door burst open, and we both jumped.

  “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Davey stood in the doorway, eating out of a bag of Cheetos. “Were you two just about to get it on with that pervy bird bouncing his head, looking on?”

  Seamus was still rocking out, this time to Low Rider by War.

  I was panting, still shocked and turned on by Mitch’s sudden aggression and dirty talk.

  Mitch looked frustrated and threw a red t-shirt over his head. He said through gritted teeth, “What brings you by Davey?”

  Davey made himself comfortable on the bed, wiping his cheese-powdered fingers on his baggy, black pants. “I had an interesting conversation with principal Shipton this afternoon. He asked me if I had heard the amazing news about my friend. Congratulations are in order, man. How could you not have told me?”

  Mitch shook his head, silently urging Davey to stop talking.

  I turned to Mitch. “What’s going on?”

  He was giving Davey the evil eye. “Nothing.”

  “Dude, don’t be shy. You s
hould be damn proud.”

  Mitch stayed silent, so I turned to Davey. “Proud of what?”

  “Mitch here…got himself a full ride to Boston University.”

  My heart beat faster with every passing second as the information set in. “What?”

  Davey’s eyes widened. “A full four-year scholarship! Some old, rich Crestview alum set it up, and they grant it to the graduate with the highest GPA every year. This year, it was Mitchy!”

  My jaw dropped, and I looked over at Mitch. “How long have you known about this?”

  His ears were turning red. “Not long.”

  I feigned happiness even though I was freaking out inside. “This is amazing. I had no idea. I mean, I knew your grades were good but the highest GPA?”

  He had a vacant look in his eyes. “I had no clue either to be honest.”

  I started to feel lightheaded but continued to put on a brave face. “Boston. Wow. I can’t believe this. You accepted, right?”

  He bit his lip and didn’t say anything.

  “Mitch?”

  Mitch shut off the music that had been playing, and Seamus squawked in protest. “Dave, can you leave Skylar and me alone for a minute?”

  Davey huffed, crumpled his Cheetos bag and went down stairs.

  When the door shut, the mood suddenly became extremely tense. You could have heard a pin drop. The tormented look in his piercing eyes nearly undid me. “I’m not going to accept it.”

  “What? Are you crazy?”

  “I can’t.”

  “This is what you and your mother were arguing about when I was at the door.”

  “Boston is five hours away. I’d be gone for four years. Do you understand that? Four years. I just fucking got you back. I’m not leaving you.”

  It felt like all of the air left my body. The fact that he was prepared to throw away this opportunity to be near me was overwhelming.

  “You’re considering giving up your future…because of me?”

  He put his hands on my shoulders. “You are my future. It’s not like there aren’t any colleges here.”

  “None that will give you a full ride, none that are Boston University! Holy crap, Mitch…you have to take it. Imagine a life with no college debt looming over you, and BU is an awesome school.”

  He looked down at his bare feet. “You don’t understand. This is not up for debate. I’ve already made up my mind.”

  “Were you even going to tell me?”

  “I don’t know. I knew you’d try to convince me to accept it.”

  “Convince you? Mitch…you ARE accepting it. You’re standing here telling me you’re turning down the opportunity of a lifetime for me. I would have to live with that for the rest of my life. You’ve already given up so much over the past two years for me. You will take this…because there will be no you and me if you don’t. I am not gonna stand by and watch you ruin your life and use me as the excuse.”

  His face turned crimson in anger. “Skylar, do you understand what you’re asking me to do? I’d be gone. We would only see each other once in a while. We were supposed to finally get to be together now. I want that so badly.”

  “We’d see each other on breaks and some weekends.”

  “But it won’t be the same.”

  No, it wouldn’t.

  “We can make it work. We’re stronger than distance.”

  He began playing with the button on my dress, lost in thought. “I don’t feel good about this. Something at the pit of my stomach is telling me going to Boston would be the wrong decision. I fucking miss you already, and you’re standing right in front of me.”

  Hearing him say that had caused me to break down. I had no words, so I reached over to hug him. His beating heart pounded against my own, which felt like it had been turned inside out.

  A million thoughts raced through my mind. The thought of him living in a dorm with a bunch of horny girls made me shudder. Maybe I would tell him to stay. No. This was his future. He would never get an opportunity like this again.

  He spoke into my neck. “I know accepting this scholarship is the right thing to do on paper, but the only thing that feels right is staying with you.”

  I know. But I still couldn’t let him do it.

  “I won’t let you turn it down. I won’t live with that guilt.”

  “You’re saying you won’t be here for me if I stay? Don’t you love me?”

  “I’m doing this because I love you.”

  That night, after further ambush by our mothers at dinner, Mitch reluctantly agreed to accept the scholarship.

  ***

  The summer before Mitch was set to move to Boston went by way too fast. Despite a bad feeling gnawing at me, I never let him see that I was having doubts about pushing him away. If he knew how sad it was really making me, he’d never leave. Mitch worked hard. He deserved that scholarship. I wasn’t going to fuck it up.

  That meant controlling myself around him, not allowing things to go any further than kissing. Boy, did we kiss a lot that summer, to the point where I could feel his lips on me at any given moment even when he was nowhere in sight.

  He’d grab me the second I’d walk into his room, and we’d just get lost in each other’s mouths for minutes on end. He’d be hard as a rock, and I would be wet, but despite our animalistic attraction, we never took it any further. We seriously should have won an award for our resilience. I think deep down, he knew it would complicate things. The kissing was intense, though.

  There was only one time that we almost slipped. Mitch had run his palm over my breast, squeezing it hard while he kissed me. I almost came from that sensation alone, but he stopped it before things went too far. He knew just as well as I did that if we ended up having sex, we wouldn’t have been able to let each other go. Maybe if we survived the first semester apart, I’d feel more confident about taking that step.

  What also helped keep things in check: I’d only go over his house when Janis was home. My body was in a constant state of arousal, and I knew with the first opportunity to be alone, we would give up control.

  A certain camping trip at the end of the summer proved that.

  ***

  It all started with some big news: Davey had a girlfriend for the first time in his life. Her name was Zena, and she was like a female version of him: stalky with dreadlocks except hers were strawberry blonde. They met at a Star Wars convention and realized they lived two miles apart. We were all happy for him because he was no longer the perpetual fifth wheel.

  Davey had this idea to take Zena to a campsite in Lake George, New York for her birthday. His grandfather had given him the keys to the family RV, and he invited Mitch, myself, Angie and Cody to tag along.

  The RV was older, had a full-size bed all the way in the back and seating with 1980’s plaid upholstery on each side in the middle. There was a small kitchen area just before the bedroom.

  It was a week before Mitch would be leaving for Boston, and if the ride to Lake George were an indication of how the trip would go, I was in trouble.

  Mitch sat next to me for most of the ride, and the heat from his leg that was practically glued to mine radiated throughout my body.

  He squeezed my thigh. “Are you excited to go camping?”

  “Yeah…you?”

  Instead of responding, he took my bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it hard before slowly releasing it. “I’m excited to go camping with you.” My body went limp.

  Cody was playing his guitar while Angie and Zena sang along with him to Blowin’ in the Wind. Davey, who was driving, used the opportunity to point out that “blowin” was a prelude to his planned activities with Zena later.

  Mitch whispered in my ear, “What the hell is with this music anyway? My grandmother used to listen to this. Peter, Paul and Mary, I think…except Cody sounds like the Mary.”

  He kept making me laugh as we held hands. When he left our seat to give Davey a break at the wheel, I moved up front. I hadn’t even wanted to be awa
y from him for 30 minutes. How was I supposed to handle him going away for four years? My stomach turned at the mere thought.

  He’d glance over at me while driving, and I’d melt. The sunlight made his already blue eyes glow into an aquamarine color. He reached for my hand. “I can’t wait to spend time with my favorite girl.”

  Davey overheard and cracked, “There’s only one bed. Zena and I have dibs. You two are gonna have to shag in the woods.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Davey.” I had never heard him snap so angrily at Davey before. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to me before returning his eyes to the road. Mitch was seriously pissed.

  If he only realized how turned on I was at the thought of him taking me in the woods.

  Angie snuck up behind us and took a picture of our entwined hands then disappeared.

  When we finally arrived in the middle of the afternoon, the guys set up two tents and started to grill hot dogs and hamburgers. I had brought an angel food cake and dressed it with whipped cream and fresh berries.

  We threw some blankets on the ground and had a picnic on the dewy grass. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and a gentle breeze blew around our napkins.

  Zena meant well when she asked, “Are you all set for Boston, Mitch?”

  Before answering, he looked at me with sadness in his eyes. “Not really.”

  I gave him a sympathetic smile.

  When the others were involved in an argument about sleeping arrangements, he lifted his index finger prompting me to come closer. “You have whipped cream on your mouth.” Before I could respond, he pulled my ponytail slowly toward him and slid his hot tongue across my lips. “Mmm,” he groaned before kissing me deeply. The sugary sweetness mixed with the taste of him drove me crazy. I wondered how I was going to survive this night.