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Love American Style

Short story By: monicastar14
Young adult


Tags: Girl, Boy, Love, Sex, Feelings


Sleeping with someone is complicated. Especially if you're unsure how the other person feels, or even if they feel anything towards you at all. Zooey loves Sam. But does he? By the way, this is for Melissa Alburney's contest:D


Submitted:Aug 20, 2011    Reads: 2,813    Comments: 79    Likes: 42   


Love American Style

On nights like this, it's always great to take a walk. The wind is subtle with tiny wisps of air tickling my face in long motions that refreshes the mind. The city's bright lights illuminate the streets bringing life even when most people are dead to the world. The stars are still visible behind the lights and skyscrapers, a sight that is as magical enough to make one forget. Yes, truly beautiful.

Walking down the familiar streets on my way to my apartment I can't help but feel the adrenaline rush through my veins, something I despise of myself. I don't want to be excited for this, but I truly am. I can't wait to see him, but along the lines of wanting there is also hating, and those things can be blurred in many occasions. I see the familiar building, walking in with a little jump in my step. As I walk to the start of the stairs, I stop myself, thinking about all the other things I should have done and shouldn't have done. I shouldn't have called him but I did, I always did. Oh god, I can't do this, not because it's wrong, but because if I keep doing it, one day I'll break.

I resume walking up the stairs preferring this to taking the elevator for anxiety reasons, until I get to my hallway. As I turn the corner, I see him. Despite all my efforts, my heart skips a beat, my head swivels with thoughts, and my legs get a bit shaky.

What a sight he is. Leaning up against my door with his hands inside his pockets, looking down seemingly in deep thought; he can't look better. He hears me approach and his head pops up. His body doesn't move, but his eyes change as I get closer.

I walk up to him slowly and say, "Sam." There's nothing more I can say in this situation.

"Zooey." He says while he moves away from the door. I bring my bag closer to my body making it easier to search for my keys. I pull the bunch out locating the correct one, the one with a bird caricature attached to it. I insert the key in, opening the door cautiously, something I always do, and go in with Sam behind me. As I turn on the lights Sam approaches me from my back swings his arms around my waist and kisses my neck as soon as he moves my brown hair out of the way. I drop my bag to the floor, my keys along with it, and immediately my left hand goes to support his arm around my waist while my right runs its fingers through his hair.

I love the way his dark hair feels around my fingers; silky, smooth, thick, anything a girl would want in her own hair. My hands always feel a magnetic force to get to it as soon as we make contact. My hands are traitors to my brain, my heart traitor to my brain.

"Zooey." He whispers by my ear, sending shivers up my spine. Something that happens often.

I turn around in his arms to be closer to him. He looks down at me with those hazel eyes of his, bringing some sort of energy into me, making me want to do things I wish I wouln't do. His eyes lower to my lips, knowing what he wants to do I restrain myself from kissing him first. He has to do this first, for my own sanity he has to do this first.

He leans down softly laying his lips on mine, teasing me a bit. Kissing the corners of my lips with a playfulness reserved for lovers, making me want him even more. Finally his mouth opens, capturing my own with a ferocity that I can't help but want to match. My arms wrap around his neck, my hands hold his head, and his own palms resting on my cheek with a known strength. I open my my mouth giving him permission to let his tongue in. He holds me as our tongues run wild with one another letting each other know, how bad we both want this.

His hands fall from my face so he can help himself out of his jacket, never leaving my lips. Without thinking about it, I lean closer to him as I shrug my own sweater off. I press him up against a wall and he kisses me harder. I grab his shoulders and holster my self up onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist and feeling his arms support my back.

Without saying anything he holds me and walks me to the bedroom. We both go in with lust in our eyes, excited to have each other, to experience our bodies connect.

Though I hate myself for doing this, having sex with him is the most wonderful thing I have ever experienced. His body, his movements, but especially his sweet caresses and whispers. It's a rush I can't have enough of.

***

In the morning I wake up with no one by my side. The bed is always empty. He always leaves, but never before asking in a soft voice, "Do you want me to leave?", and I always say yes. I never have the guts to tell him to stay. There are times when I don't even say anything, I just lay there under the covers until I feel him get up. I wish he would tell me how he really feels, maybe that would give me some direction. But I will never ask him, that is not what this is about.

This is not about love. This was never about love. This is about a physical connection. This is about not being lonely. But it doesn't work that way because after, when he leaves, I feel even lonelier than before. When he shows up he gives me something, a fire that burns inside me, but then he leaves and he takes not only his fire back, but something else from me. I then feel empty.

I look up to the ceiling and feel the same hollowness I wanted to avoid. Sighing, I get up from bed so I can head to the shower.

Sam doesn't have a girlfriend, I don't have a boyfriend, but a while ago he came up a quiet arrangement so we won't be alone. Anyone can break it off, but neither of us have.

I take a long bath, change into a nice mood booster outfit. Some red tights under a navy blue dress. Dark colors make me happy. Calling my friend up to schedule a coffee date, I walk to the nearest coffee shop from my house. I grab myself a cold Horchata and grab my friend a Vanilla Latte. With both drinks at hand I go to our usual meeting spot; in a park.

I see my friend Cassie by the shade and walk to her, eventually handing her her drink. She knows of my problems and gives me time to gather my thoughts.

We sit hopelessly beneath a tree on a beautiful Summer day in the city, just damn picturesque. The park is in the center of the city surrounded by skyscrapers and buildings of sorts. Though being so, it still sparkled with innocence and joyfulness, as the trees served as magical posts of childhood, and the pond boasting it's wonderful array of nature which provided the little dreamer with imagination. Other simplicity was there too I suppose; the park was filled with playing and dancing children, dogs being walked, food being shared, and us, we lingered still, miserably and intently reflecting on better days.

"You have to tell him how you feel Zooey." Cassie spoke up. She looked to me as she sipped from her coffee simultaneously pleading with her eyes.

"You know I can't Cas." I say lamely and sip from my own drink.

"No, you just don't want to."

"That's not true."

"You're just afraid you're going to loose what you have with him," She flings her free hand around and adds, "Whatever it is that you guys have. but how will you ever know what he thinks if you don't ask him.?"

I drink more of my drink and think.

"What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if I make a fool of myself?"

"Zooey, you just can't go living like this. One day he'll find someone, and he'll leave you." She says harshly.

I look up to the baby blue sky and imagine myself relaxing in those cotton candy type clouds. I would feel light and easy, something I don't feel now.

"I know." I whisper to nobody in particular.

I know the day he finds somebody I'm out of the picture as easily as I came in. Then I will truly be heartbroken since he'll have someone who loves him as much as he loves her. I won't exist in his world. I still remember when I first met him, in my U.S history class in college. I fell in love with him as soon as we started the lecture on the American Revolution. He was such a history buff that is was cute, but he was always mysterious and chill, that I always wondered what went on in his mind. It wasn't until a couple of months ago that we actually started sleeping each other, and it was such bad timing since I was actually his rebound girl.

I look over to Cassie and tell her, "I'm going to tell him tonight."

"Good." She says with and encouraging smile. I pull out my cellphone, carefully dialing his number only to wait anxiously for him to answer.

He does.

"Uhm, Sam? It's Zooey. I was wondering if maybe you can meet me in the park near my apartment?" I ask softly. "Yeah? Oh good, by the big oak tree, you know which one? Okay, cool I'll see you at six." Done. I am going to tell him today, and finally I'll do what I'm so scared to do.

When it's close to six I walk through my neighborhood park to the place I told Sam to wait for me. I deeply want to see him, but I'm scared too. Since it's the evening now, the park is quite lonely, the main section is lonely, but I continue on to the secret spot of the park. I see the huge oak tree, in the middle of a hidden section away from the jungle jim, in a place where there are no benches or games, a place where one single swing dangles from the huge tree. Around, it is peaceful. I'm surrounded by other magnificent trees and lush grass. In other circumstances this would be awful romantic, but today it won't be.

I approach the swing, sitting as softly as I could and begin to swing on it. I remember from my childhood the steps, swing your feet outwards then inwards, repeating until I gain momentum. I feel the breeze against my cheek because of the velocity, it's harsh on my skin, but it also serves as a great focusing mechanism. I think about the wind hitting my face, and how beautiful the sun looks as it sets. After a while I grow tired and stop the swinging. I stay seated on the swing with a blank mind. As I grip the ropes on the sides tightly I hear footsteps approaching. I look over my shoulder and see Sam walking towards me.

His hands are inside his jacket pockets, as always, and he comes to me with an unreadable expression. He stands in front of me and shifts his weight nervously.

"Uh, Sam, I wanted-I wanted..." I look up to his face momentarily lost in those eyes of his. "Oh Sam," I say and stand from the swing. "I wasn't planning on telling you this anytime soon, but this morning I just felt I had to say something to you."

"Zooey, what's wrong?" He asks.

Everything. "Nothing much. Oh Jesus!" I say exasperated. I pin some of my hair behind my ear and look nervously around. "Sam, we have to stop what we're doing. I just can't do it anymore."

"Is there someone else?"

"No. No there's no one else. It's just that, I like you. No, I love you." I say and sigh. "I love you, and it kills me being with you. We hook up, then we go our separate ways. That hurts. As much I like being with you, I can't do it anymore because I need more than sex." Oh gosh, that didn't sound as classy as I wanted.

"I thought that was what you wanted." he says carefully.

"At first it was." I respond. Sam looks to the distance but doesn't say anything. "Every time you left my bed after asking me if I wanted you to leave, I'd go crazy. I really wanted you to stay, I wanted to scream at you to stay, but I knew if I did, everything would change and just wasn't sure about you. I wish you would tell me how you really feel." I say quietly.

"Zooey, I..." He says stumbling for words. Great I know what's coming he doesn't feel the same way. As much as I'm beating myself up this moment, I can't help but feel relief that i finally said I loved him. "You're my friend..."

"Right."

"And I treasure what we have."

"Great. Look you don't have to say anything else, I just wanted to let you know what I feel and know where you stood. Now I know, and that's all I wanted." I told him. though I didn't not want to feel bitter, inside I did. I was also angry at him. Angry that he didn't feel the same way, which was extremely selfish of me. "I have to go." I said and quickly and walked away. Once I knew no one could see me, I ran, and I cried. Tears formed at my eyes, spilled quickly down my cheeks but never reached my chin since I was running so fast.

At home I cried, but most importantly I felt alive.

***

It's one am. I wake up to the banging at my door, immediately checking the time. Those red numbers in my clock blare at me with vengeance from all the times I slammed the snooze button on it. I stand groggiiy and slowly, making my way to the door where I check through the peephole to see who it is.

Sam.

I pull back from the peephole just to stare at the door. I think about ignoring him, but in the end I don't. With Shaky fingers I open the door to my apartment revealing Sam, with the same clothes as earlier.

"Sam, what's wrong?" I ask and close the door behind me

"Zooey, I love you." He blurts out while he looks at me with wild eyes.

"What?" I croak.

"In the park, you wanted to know how I really felt, right?"

"Of course, and you said you treasured the friendship we had."

"Yes I did say that, and that's true."

"Then?"

"I treasure our friendship yes, that's why I never told you how much I loved you. I thought you felt differently. For fuck's sake you always told me to leave."

"Yes, but I told you why I did that." I tell him.

"Yeah, and every time I was with you, don't you think it killed me too?" He asks with a raised eyebrow. "I was a fucking coward because I just wanted to have you without telling you. If I pushed I thought you'd stop calling me, and I didn't want that." We look at each other for what seems like forever until he asks, "Do you want me to leave?"

"No. Never." He then crushes his body to mine and smothers my lips with his. He holds me tightly through my back and I hold his cheek. He kisses me so passionately; I feel the way his lips roll onto mine. His tongue, it licks my bottom lip until I let him in. I feel the smile form on his lips, and I know tonight will be different.

He leads me onto the bedroom, where we finally make love. In the morning, I'm in his arms, in my bed, and holding each other tightly.

For the first time, he was there, and he didn't even ask if he should leave. He just knew that this time I wanted him there.

*A/N Inspired by Our Deal, by Best Coast.*





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