I’m starting to feel spoiled.
Zack takes my arm and we head outside, threading through sun-dappled woods toward the visitors lot until we get to his orange McLaren. He opens the doors—which lift up in a Back to the Future sort of way—and holds my hand while I climb in, ever the gentleman.
True to his word, we hit the bookstore and load up on yaoi—yes, more of the super sexual Japanese manga that I like. I’m not even ashamed to admit it anymore. Zack decides to go a different route and ends up deciding to try some yuri—a girl on girl version of the books I’ve got. He says he’s not really into manga, but I appreciate that he’s willing to give it a try.
“I didn’t know it was my thing either until … well, I read some and now it definitely is my thing,” I say as we get back in the car, and Zack puts the giant bag of books in the backseat.
The lake where we’re having our picnic is the very same one that I attended my first Infinity Club party at, in the upper northeast section of campus. When we get there, there’s already a picnic table set up with a white cloth, an old-fashioned looking basket, and bottles of chilled sparkling cider.
My cheeks flush, and I bite my lip.
“Too cheesy?” Zack asks, tucking his hands into his pockets, but it’s not, and I shake my head.
“Not to me,” I tell him, taking a seat and finding out that inside the basket, he’s put all my favorite foods: purple grapes, salami and crackers, hummus and pretzels, dried banana chips, and dark chocolate with sea salt.
The spot Zack’s picked is so close to the water that when I kick off my shoes, I can dip my toe in. Of course, even though it’s sunny outside, it’s still February, and the lake’s a bit icy. Birds chirp, and the trees rustle pleasantly in the wind.
“You know I’m not playing around, right?” he asks me, standing up and moving over to sit on my side of the table, so close that I can feel his body heat.
“I never thought you were,” I tell him, but he’s already shaking his head.
“No, but … when I saw you that morning after …” Neither of us needs to say it: we both know exactly what he’s talking about. After I slept with Creed. “I knew I wasn’t trying hard enough. Marnye,” Zack continues, grabbing my wrist and pulling me into his lap. The boys do that a lot, and I let them because I like it. I really, really do. “You’ve been asking me lately about college and my plans for the future. But you know what? You are my plan for the future. You’re what I want.”
“Zack,” I start, but he lifts his fingers up and brushes them down the side of my face. His heart is racing as fast as mine. I can see it in the thundering of the pulse point in his throat.
“It’s true. You said it yourself: we have everything. We want for nothing. But that’s not true. The only thing I’ve ever really wanted with a passion is you.” He pulls my face close and then kisses me with the scent of sweet grapes on his breath, his tongue tasting me as carefully as I sampled that chocolate earlier. And the sounds he makes are so dark and tinged with need that I wonder if he finds me as decadent as I did our dessert.
We start to kiss, my hands winding around his neck, fingers playing with the fine, soft hairs at the base of his scalp. I’m essentially straddling him now, and I realize how short my dress is. It’s already riding up, and I shiver as a cool breeze sweeps across the lake and gives me goose bumps.
“Let’s go back to the car,” he whispers, and I nod, sliding off so he can stand up. The first thing he does is give me his letterman jacket. It’s huge on me, but I love swimming in all that Zack-scented fabric. “It’s as long as your damn dress,” he murmurs, but in a very appreciative sort of way.
We pack up the remainder of our picnic, and take the short winding path back to the car.
Zack slides into the passenger seat and pulls me onto his lap, closing the doors of his orange McLaren, and trapping us in our own private little bubble. He sweeps his arms around me, and I revel in the feeling of strength, of being protected.
“Oh, Marnye,” he murmurs, putting one of his big hands on the back of my head and pulling me in for a kiss. The way Zack Brooks kisses is so different from the other boys, slow and sensual and romantic in a way that can’t be faked. He really believes in that kind of stuff, that fuck-the-rest-of-the-world, sun-is-always-shining, pink-clouds-are-in-the-sky sort of romance. Soulmates. Together forever. Young love.
