Definitely Not Average - Chapter 21

This chapter is dedicated to LizeRP. =)
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After wards, we went and got an ice-cream. ‘What flavor, dear?’ The ice-cream man asked me.

‘Oh, I’ll have a triple strawberry scoop, please, with an extra large cone.’

T.J snorted. ‘Pig.’

I put a hand to my heart, pretending to be offended. ‘You wound me, sir. But you can’t really talk,’

He and I both looked at his triple-flavor - including strawberry, chocolate and mint - scoop, with three flakes, an extra large cone, and toffee and maple syrup sauce. Oh, I almost forgot to mention the sprinkles.

He pouted, and we made our way to sit on a bench in the park just opposite the ice-cream mean’s van. ‘Hey, watch your tongue, Mrs, I’m a growing boy.’

We sat opposite each other on the lunch bench, and I stuck my tongue out at him, then immediately put it back in when his gaze stayed on my mouth for just a little too long. ‘I think you’ve done enough growing, Mister.’

He grinned, that lovely, dimpled smile that I loved so much. ‘You think so? You really think six-foot is as tall as I’ll grow?’

I pursed my lips. ‘It better be. ‘Cause otherwise I’m going to get whiplash from looking up at you.’

He grinned. ‘Well, you are pretty tine.’

I smacked him on the arm. ‘I’m not tiny! I happen to be the average height.’

T.J snorted. ‘What exactly is that, then? Four-foot?’

‘Hey, watch it! I’m five-six and a half!’

His voice turned sarcastic. ‘Ooh, don’t forget that extra half!’

I mock-scowled. ‘Well, I’m sorry, Mr. Becker. But we can’t all be bodybuilders.’

His ice-blue eyes glinted, and that slow, sensual smile that always made me shiver curved his mouth, and he leaned forward to me across the table, and purred. ‘So you think I have muscle, huh?’

My gaze was locked onto his, and my breathing slowly started to accelerate. I said nothing; I wasn’t able to. His gaze seemed to silence me, made me catch my breath, and wait with anticipation. He slowly leaned towards me across the bench, and I found myself leaning into him, too. And then, before I knew it, his soft lips were coaxing mine open, his tongue sliding into my mouth, while his arms pulled me across the table. Yes, I’m sorry to say that I was kneeling on a lunch table, kissing a guy who I was only supposed to be friends with and running my hands through his hair. But he didn’t have a girlfriend, did he? So it was somewhat Okay…Oh, who am I kidding? It was wrong of us.

My hands were clutching onto his hair like he was my lifeline, and his hands rubbed my waist, while one of my hands trailed down to his shirt and lightly tugged. I was sure he could hear the loud, bold THUMP THUMP THUMP of my heart, but I didn’t care.

I’m sure we would have gone on for a lot longer if someone near us didn’t clear their throat.

We broke apart reluctantly - reluctantly?!?! - and turned to face an elderly woman holding the hand of whom I assumed to be her grand-son, looking to be in her mid-fifties, with dark grey hair that was styled into tight ringlets, and wearing an expression that could have frozen the sun. ‘Excuse me,’ she said stiffly. ‘If you’ve quite done with your little performance, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I took that table you two aren’t even using.’

I flushed scarlet, and before I could even utter a word, T.J cut in smoothly, ‘Actually, if you haven’t already noticed, we are using this table and we haven’t quite done with our performance yet, either,’

The elderly woman gawped, and the young boy holding her hand stared, wide-eyed, at T.J and I.

I don’t think my face could have gotten any redder, but I was proved wrong when T.J dragged me towards him again and planted his lips on mine. And then everything flew out of my head again, just as soon as my heart rate picked up.

‘Grace,’ T.J moaned against my lips, which were beginning to feel a little sore. ‘Grace.’

My hands tentatively touched his face, then stroked his cheekbones when he didn’t protest. One of his hands had trailed down to rest on my lower back, while the other hand was clutching onto the hair at the back of my head.

A shuffling of feet nearby pulls me out of the world I was in and back into harsh reality. I hurriedly pulled away from T.J, my breath coming out in ragged gasps, while I ran a hand through my hair. He looked slightly disappointed, and tried to pull me back to him, but I scrambled off of the table – yes, I know it was bad of me, I WAS KNEELING ON THE TABLE – and look frantically around for anyone other then the grouchy old lady who had interrupted us. Thankfully, no one was there, and the elderly lady had gone, too.

My breathing was still incredibly uneven, and when I listened hard – I refused to look at him – I could hear that T.J’s was, too.

‘Grace-’ he started, but I cut him off.

‘We’re just friends.’ I needed to voice aloud what was very hard to come to terms with, because it gave me some sick illusion that it was true. I knew that whatever me and T.J were at the moment, we weren’t just friends. Much as I wanted us to be, we just – we just weren’t.

T.J took so long to answer me that I eventually ended up having to turn to face him. His expression was blank, like that of a robot; impersonal, formal and just…not T.J. ‘Right,’ his voice was monotonous. ‘Just friends.’

I stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say, and I got the impression that T.J was thinking hard about something.

Finally, his posture relaxed, though there was still that troubles dimness in his eyes. But he did smile at me, which I thought was a good sign. He held out his arms, and I sub-consciously took a step back. I didn’t want another repeat performance on my hands.

‘Aw, come on,’ he pouted. ‘Don’t friends give other friends hugs?’

I thought that over for a moment, and then smiled hesitantly and slowly walked over to him. As soon as I was a couple of inches away from him, his arms wrapped around me in a vice-tight grip, and I couldn’t help but burying my face in his neck, while my hands clutched at his shoulders.

I loved the way he smelled – the faint natural, musky scent, blending in with his washing cleaner and Luther Cryte aftershave. I heard him inhale deeply, too, and I froze in his arms, frantically wondering if I smelled of sweat.

‘Relax,’ he whispered in my ear, and there, with his arms wrapped tightly around me and the thought that there was at least someone to hold me, I finally could.
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‘No fair!’ I pouted and playfully smacked T.J on his arm. ‘I was gonna feed that duck!’

He laughed. ‘Well, tough. I got it first.’

We were sitting on our jackets on a big stretch of grass, throwing stale bread to the ducks in the small lake before us.

‘Hey…T.J?’

‘Yeah?’ He said, and I could see he was frowning, probably from my tone. I was hesitant about asking him about what had been on my mind lately. But I wanted to know, so I asked him, ‘Have…have you heard from Rachael lately?’

His reaction surprised me; he threw his head back and laughed that rare laugh where he entirely let go. ‘Yeah. She’s called me just about one-hundred-and-fifty times in the past two days.’

I smirked. ‘Well, it looks like someone’s got a stalker.’

He only grinned, which prompted me to say, ‘So you don’t regret dumping her?’

‘Absolutely not.’ He replied immediately. And then I saw hesitation in the blue depths of his eyes, and he said quietly, ‘And anyway, I like this other girl.’

My heart dropped so fast the air actually whooshed out of me. My eyes filled with tears and I looked away. He liked someone else? I shook my head bitterly. Of course he did. I was stupid to even think that I might have had a chance with him. So stupid.

‘What’s she like?’ I asked working hard to control my shaky voice.

‘She’s smart and funny. She’s got a fiery temper and she’s caring - and she’s beautiful. Even though she doesn’t think so.’

My depressive mood increased. I could never be that kind of girl. And I knew it was a personal question to ask who this girl was, but the way he had described her sounded a lot like Liza Clarke. Unlike the rest of The Knowns, she was nice - and he was right; she was funny, and smart, and she did have a temper - everyone found that out about her when she slapped a girl in year eight for talking about her mother.

‘How long have you liked this girl for?’

He pondered. ‘Oh, about a couple of weeks.’

I probed a bit further. ‘Do I know this girl?’ I turned to face him.

‘Oh, yeah.’ He said immediately. And his beautiful eyes seemed to convey a message other then what he was saying. ‘You know her real good.’

I frowned. Most of the description had fit - except that part. I most definitely did not know Liza ‘real good’.

‘Well,’ I said, a gnawing sad aching in my belly. ‘I guess we better head back now.’

And as we walked back together silently, I was left to my thoughts. So…T.J Becker was in love with a girl - let’s call her Mystery Girl. And…and I -
The realization hit me so hard I actually stopped walking.

I was in love with T.J Becker.