Time-Lapse by J.B. Heller

Chapter Three

As soon asI walk in the door, I put the ice cream Eliza bought me in the freezer and make a start on dinner. Dad’s in his room, and I don’t want to give him an excuse to berate me today. I’m loving this high that comes from hanging out with Eliza, and I’m not ready for it to end yet.

I pull out a couple of cheap steaks and some potatoes that I quickly chop up to chuck in the fryer while the steaks are cooking, then I cut some tomatoes, cucumber, and peppers to go on the side. It doesn’t take me long to throw it all together. As soon as I’m done, I plate it up and take mine to my room, knocking on Dad’s door on the way past to let him know his dinner is on the counter.

He grunts back his acknowledgement, and that’s the extent of our interaction for the day.

The next morning, I’m walking down the block, eating my breakfast banana, and see a familiar gunmetal-gray Land Rover at the end of my street.

As I approach, I can see a shadowy figure inside the tinted cab. It looks like she’s dancing. I tap on the driver’s side window, and she winds it down, a huge smile on her face.

“Good morning,” she chirps. She is still holding a hairbrush in her hand, and “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is playing loudly on the sound system. She blushes and turns the volume down. “Sorry, I have a habit of performing impromptu concerts in my car—sometimes in the shower, too.”

“I see.” Scratching my temple, I ask her, “What are you doing here?”

She raises her eyebrows and widens her eyes. “Picking you up. What’s it look like?”

“Yeah, I see that, but why?”

“Because you’re my new secret friend. And I have to know … which ice cream did you end up choosing as your favorite?”

Chewing on my bottom lip to keep my smile from showing, I finally answer her. “They were all pretty much the same—cold,” I say with a small shrug.

Her jaw drops, and her pretty pink lips form a perfect O. “You’re kidding me, right?”

I shake my head. “Nope. What can I say? I’m not a fan.”

She drops her head to the steering wheel and rocks it back and forth slowly. “Oh, Hux, what am I going to do with you?”

Shrugging my shoulders, I tell her, “Looks like we can’t be friends. Sorry, you’re a cool chick, El.”

Her head stops shaking, and she lifts it to stare at me. “I could bend the rules, just this once,” she says softly.

“Why would you want to do that?”

Her intense gaze makes me nervous. “Because I’ve been more myself in the last two days with you than I have been in the last seventeen years.”

I swallow past the lump that forms in my throat at her admission. I don’t like the idea of her feeling like she can’t be herself. “Why would you hide who you are?”

A sad smile pulls her lips to the side. “They wouldn’t understand. Not everyone can handle all this awesome.”

This is such a bad idea, but I walk around the hood of her car and get in the passenger seat anyway. “We’re going to be really early, you know that, right?” I start walking an hour before school so I can take my time and snap a few pictures if I feel like it.

“It’s okay. We can sit in the car and, I don’t know, talk? You know, like normal people getting to know each other,” she suggests.

I scratch my temple. Getting to know her is an even worse idea than accepting the ride. Fuck. I run my hand through my hair and shake my head at myself. Soo fucking stupid, Hux. I fasten my seatbelt then glance at her. “Fine. But I’ll bounce before people start showing. Don’t want to ruin my mysterious reputation.”

She rolls her eyes and pulls away from the curb.

When she parks at the back of the student lot, we kick back, talking about music and other random shit, until another car pulls in three spaces away. It’s a pimped-out black Escalade with super-tinted windows and a personalized gold number plate that says KING. I roll my eyes as the king of douchebags, Wayne, steps around the hood.

“And on that note, I’m out. Thanks for the ride,” I tell Eliza as I slide out of the passenger side and head into the trees surrounding the lot before Wayne notices me.

* * *

A whole weekpasses the same way, with Eliza showing up at the end of my street each morning to give me a ride to school. It’s weird, and I think about asking her why again, but after she told me she could be herself around me, I’m inclined to believe her.

She does act a little crazy when we’re together, but she’s always contained and the model student around school and her friends. I like her the way she is with me—carefree and filter-less. She’s actually really funny and kind of cool.

This morning is the beginning of a new week, and I think she might be over it, but she’s waiting at the end of the street when I exit my house.

I jog down to her and tap on her window. She’s singing into her hairbrush again. Winding down her window, she keeps singing along to—oh God, no. It’s Bieber. I close my eyes and shake my head.

Eliza bellows into her hairbrush while looking me in the eyes. “Love yourself!”

Walking around to my side of the car, I get in and buckle up. She’s grinning, and I can’t help but return it. It’s contagious. When she smiles at you, you have to smile back. It’s an involuntary reaction.

She pulls onto the road then says, “So, I was thinking we could go somewhere else and chill this morning, if you want?”

“Like where?”

A coy smile lifts her lips, and she says, “I know a place.”

I’m intrigued by her secrecy. “So, where is this place?”

“It’s a surprise,” she says then turns up the stereo and starts singing along with Selena Gomez about keeping her hands to herself.

I eye her suspiciously. “Are you taking me somewhere to take advantage of me? ’Cause I should tell you, I’m not that kind of guy.”

“Right, I’m sure you’re not,” she smarts.

“I’m not. I swear, I’m pure as snow,” I lie through my teeth, and she knows it.

“Yeah, pure as Jon Snow when he got back to Castle Black after rockin’ it with Ygritte and the Wildlings for a few months.”

I arch a brow. “You like Game of Thrones?”

She nods.

“I’m not gonna lie, El, the fact that you just used a GoT reference in everyday conversation is pretty fucking hot.”

She shuffles back in her seat a little, pride pouring off her in waves. “I know, right? Can you imagine if I said that to Yazzie? She’d think I’d lost my damn mind.”

“She would,” I agree. From what I’ve seen, Eliza’s friends are airheads. I don’t doubt they’d watch a show like GoT if they thought it would score them ‘cool’ points. But I can guarantee they wouldn’t be able to follow along with it.

A couple of minutes later, Eliza pulls up at a little rest area on the outskirts of town. Not many people come here, just the occasional traveler passing through. It’s got a pond, a little bridge that goes over a small waterfall, and a walking path that winds around the pond with picnic benches tucked away here and there amongst the trees.

We get out of the car and start for the path, side by side. “You come here often?” I ask.

“Yeah, now and then. It’s peaceful. I do my homework here sometimes, just for a change of scenery. What about you?”

“I’ve come here a few times, but not often.” I’d like too, but it’s a bit far out of the way to come on foot.

We walk in companionable silence until we come across one of the benches, and somehow, we end up straddling the bench, facing each other. She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, looks up at me from under her lashes, and places her palms on my spread thighs.

She’s wearing another sundress today, and the way we’re sitting has made it creep right up her legs. I’m struggling not to shift my gaze down to her smooth, creamy skin, but looking at her face as she peers up at me like that isn’t any better. My dick starts taking notice as she glides her hands higher, and I curse under my breath, turning my eyes away from her.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, a knowing grin pulling her pink lips to the side in a half smile.

I narrow my eyes at her. “What are you doing?”

A look of complete innocence blankets her features. “Nothing. Why? What do you think I’m doing?”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I raise a brow at her. “You know exactly what you’re doing. What I should be asking is why?”

“You know how I was telling you about lady balls last week? I grew a pair—remember?” She winks conspiratorially.

A laugh bubbles up from my stomach. “Umm, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I can see up your dress, and I don’t see balls,” I tell her then mutter to myself, “Thank fuck for that.”

She starts laughing with me. “Damn it. I thought I had this seduction thing down. Obviously, you’re immune to my charms.”

I scoff. “No, I just don’t take anything at face value. If it seems too good to be true, it usually is. And the idea of you trying to seduce me? Yeah, way too good to be true.”

She does a little victory fist pump. “So, it was working? And if you weren’t such a cynic, you totally would have fallen for my seduction technique?”

“I’m not a cynic, El. I’m a realist. Big difference.”

Eliza frowns at me then scoots closer. Our knees are touching, and there’s barely a foot of space between our bodies. “You say realist; I say cynic. I think this is pretty real myself.”

I take a deep breath and resist the urge to slam my mouth down on hers. The longer we sit here like this, the harder it’s getting to hold myself back. “We better get going. Can’t have Miss Perfect ruining her rep by showing up at school with the black sheep,” I say and stand, holding my hand out to her to help her off the bench.

Her petite hand wraps around my much larger one. She holds tight as she stands and throws her leg over the bench. Once she’s standing with both feet on the same side of the seat, I go to release her, but she twines her fingers through mine.

I’m nearly a foot taller than her, and I look down to find she’s smiling at me with that damn smile that’s starting to work its way under my skin. “El,” I warn.

“Doesn’t it feel real to you?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

I can’t deny that being this close to her feels amazing. “I’m not sticking around, El. I’m out of here in a matter of months. And I’m not taking anything with me.”

She bites her bottom lip then says, “What’s that got to do with right now?”

I rub my temples with the thumb and forefinger of my free hand. “I don’t want to hurt you, El. You’re not a casual kind of girl, and I would never treat you like one. But that’s all you’ll get with me.”

A frown furrows her brows, and she grits her teeth. “Who are you to say what kind of girl I am? Maybe all I want is casual. Maybe you’re the one who would end up hurt, not me. Huh?”

She’s so feisty, and I like it. “Oh, trust me, I know I would end up hurting. But hurt and I go way back. I can handle it.” I tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear and look down into her amazing eyes. “Maybe I can’t handle casual with you.”

Her eyes flicker to my lips and back to my eyes. “Consider me fairly warned,” she says then pushes up to her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. With one hand still twined through mine, she brings her free hand up behind my neck and holds me to her as her sweet little tongue slides inside my mouth.

Before I know it, I’ve released her hand, and I’m lifting her to sit on the edge of the picnic table as she wraps her legs around my waist. She doesn’t let up her assault on my mouth, and I fucking love how into it she is.

Little murmurs come from her throat, and I’m rock. Fucking. Solid. How did she get me so worked up when, not two minutes ago, I was telling her this couldn’t happen?

She squeezes her thighs tighter, bringing me impossibly closer, and I clench my fists in the fabric of her sundress by her hips. “Jesus, El,” I breathe, and she responds by sliding both her hands up into my hair then pulling so hard my head tilts back and she latches onto my throat, licking and nibbling the flesh there.

“Holy shit. Ease up, princess,” I urge, not wanting to freak her out with the monster she’s created in my pants. She just went from zero to sixty in a heartbeat, and my dick is digging it.

She chuckles softly as she pulls back to peer up at me. “Sorry, got a bit carried away.”

I look at her smiling face. “What was that?”

She shrugs, sliding her palms down to my shoulders, then she drags her nails from my pecs to my abs. “Pent-up sexual frustration?”

“Umm, okay …” I say with a quirked brow.

“What? Don’t believe me?” she questions my obvious disbelief.

“Uh, kinda hard to believe. It’s not like I’ve been putting the moves on you or anything. Unless you’re just using me to release sexual frustration caused by someone else?” I’m joking—I think.

Eliza scoffs. “Not likely. Can I tell you something? But you have to promise not to freak out.”