The Understorey (The Leaving #1)

The Understorey (The Leaving #1) Page 20

I laughed. Definitely where Jules got her personality from.

“Cross my heart,” I said.

“So boy....” he began.

“What are you yelling up the stairs for? Mom’s not here. There was an emergency at the church, something about broken pipes,” Jules interrupted from behind me.

I turned and saw a pair of long legs stride toward the sitting room. I gulped and started to panic. At that precise moment I felt very self-conscious, having no clue what Julia Jacobs wanted with me. I fiddled with my glasses and pulled at my sweater. She was too radiant to bother with the likes of me. I turned my head and faced Jules’ dad again. He sat with his eyebrows creased. I must have taken too long to turn back around. Whatever the punishment for staring too long at someone’s daughter was I didn’t want to find out because his eyes told me it might be penalty of death. Oops. I had no intentions of disrespecting her father and after that held little to no eye contact with Jules to remedy how uncomfortable I had made him.

“Are you ready?” Jules asked.

“Sure,” I said, wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans.

“So, where are you going?” Her dad asked.

“Dad, you know where. I told you this morning. The Kanawha County Library in Charleston.”

“Okay,” he sighed, “but if you’re going to be home past seven you need to call Julia.”

“No problem pop,” she reached up and pecked him on the cheek.

I took Jules’ bag from her, politely shook Mr. Jacobs’ hand and led Jules to my truck. I opened the door for her and swung her bag into the bed. I hopped in, waved to a glaring Mr. Jacobs and headed toward Main.

When we reached the end of her street I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. I finally looked at Jules. She had her legs crossed and her right elbow on the window’s edge twisting a curl in her hand.

“You’re sweating Elliott Gray,” she said coolly.

“What?” I said, reaching my hand to my forehead, wiping away the perspiration.

“Need a towel?” She teased.

“Yes, actually,” I laughed, “I nearly hyperventilated from the very look of you. I don’t think your dad was too happy with me when it took me forever to break my stare.”

“He’ll survive,” she said. “Besides,” she leaned in close, “I like the way you stare at me. It’s a sweet stare. It makes me feel beautiful.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem for you Jules. You should feel that regardless.”

“It means a little more when you make me feel that way though. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome ma’am,” I said and tipped an imaginary hat her direction.

On our way to the library in Charleston, Jules and I talked about anything and everything. When the conversation turned toward music, it got heated though. We were both extremely opinionated when it came to music. Ironically, we loved all of the same bands but differed in opinion when it got down to the nitty gritty of the inner workings of individual songs. The heat was awesome actually. It was fun to talk to someone who held legitimate interest and opinion in something that mattered to me and we traded banter for almost an hour on the subject. When we reached the library and parked in the garage across the street, I put my truck in park and sighed with satisfaction. She was the most intellectually stimulating conversation I had ever had.

“You’re somethin’ else miss Jacobs,” I said trying to catch my breath.

“You’re quite a match, my friend. Sparring with you sure does bring out the spirit in a girl.”

I got out and ran to the other side of the truck. I opened the door for her and grabbed her hand. She thanked me and I grabbed our bags. We walked up the giant steps of the large stone library and ducked through its majestic entrance.

“This library is my Mecca,” whispered Jules.

“If I could, I would set up a tent in the back and read my life away,” I whispered back. “Join me?”

“Yes, sir. I will. I would,” she said looking up at me.

I grabbed her hand and we left a sparkled trail leading to a secluded table in the corner at the back of the library. Jules looked behind us.

“We have a supernatural gift that only we can see and benefit from Elliott,” she said matter-of-factly.

I stopped short.

“You know, for weeks I’ve tried to pin it down, get an exact name for it. I’m still trying to decipher its capabilities and parameters and all but it’s definitely our own exclusive gift. It’s fascinating.”

“And awesome. Really awesome,” she barely whispered the last part.

We smiled at each other.

Jules and I smiled a lot. So much, that I found my cheeks actually hurt when I finally rested my head at the end of the day. I would rub the muscles in them, readying them for their inevitable workout the next day. We were unashamed about showing the way we felt on our faces. That’s what I liked about Jules. She was not afraid to tell me through words, expressions, or our ability what she thought and how she felt. What a firework.

We sat at opposite ends of the table and poured our books onto its dark veneered surface. An hour had passed, I looked up and noticed we were absolutely alone. I interrupted her frenzied writing by placing my hand on hers.

“Jules?”

Her head popped up.

“Yeah?”

“Can I? Can I try something?”

A sly smile spread across her face.

“What?”

“Lean towards me?”

She did as I asked and I brought my cheek to hers, before whispering into her ear.

“Keep your head very still.”

She didn’t say anything but her breathing became as labored as mine. I softly kissed her cheek and the library lit up like the fourth of July. Fiery flowers burst like rockets from our table, exploded in the air above our heads, and their remnants misted to the table, chairs and floor beneath us like snow. I felt her anticipation and I know she felt mine. I felt her happiness and I know she felt mine. I felt her longing for more and I know she felt mine.

We sat upright, wide eyed and overwhelmed.

“Do it again,” she whispered.

“Okay,” I happily agreed but when I leaned in and she closed her eyes, prepared for the coming sensation, I stopped.

“You try it,” I whispered. “You’ll like it.”

“Okay, lean into me then.”

I obeyed her and could barely control my laughter. She stilled my head by grabbing my chin and tilting my face and she kissed my cheek softly. The same spirited flames flew above our heads and filled our chests with its sonic boom. We sat up once more, equally as stunned as before.

I had an idea.

“Stand up,” I said.

We scooted our chairs behind us and carefully maneuvered around the corners of the table coming face to face and panting in expectation. We both watched as my right hand link fingers with hers then again with the left, savoring every touch and every feeling, every spark. We looked into each other’s eyes and waited to steady our rapidly beating hearts for fear they’d burst before we’d get the chance to do what we’d waited so long for.

“Stop,” she whispered, trying not to laugh.

“Stop what?” I laughed.

“Stop intensifying how I feel inside. I don’t know how much more I can withstand. We keep trading emotions up and up and up.”

“What do you mean?” I said, nearly bursting with laughter.

“Whenever I show you how I feel, you react to the feeling and vice versa. It keeps magnifying. You’re driving me crazy!”

“Okay,” I said, almost toppling over with happiness.

We let go of our hold on one another and stepped back. Once we caught our breath and stopped laughing for at least a five second stretch, we repositioned ourselves and slowly intertwined our hands once more.

“Let’s start this place on nonexistent fire,” I teased.

“Promise.” She sucked in an excited breath.

We closed our eyes and I placed my feverish mouth to hers. Immediately, violent, zealous flashes of shimmering flames climbed to the furthest point, trailed like rain down the pitched ceiling and spilled down the walls, gathering at their feet pools of fervent, bubbling, silvery liquid electricity before evaporating into nothing.

We pulled away from the magnetic gravity that was our first kiss but kept our hands intertwined. We patiently lingered while our insides came back into our own control.

“That was......”

“The best thing I’ve ever felt and tasted in my entire life,” Jules finished with an intense twinkle in her bright green eyes.

“Exactly. What do you think? Will they all be like that? How about one more for good measure?” I flirted.

She nodded and bit her bottom lip in a smile.

“This time,” I continued, “let me hold your face with my hands.”

We did ‘one more for good measure’ six times. The only reason we had to stop was because I glanced at my watch to see how much time we had to practice. It was approaching seven o’clock and Jules needed to ring her dad to let him know I was taking her to dinner in Charleston and wouldn’t be home until eleven o’clock or so.

“Pop?” She said on her cell phone. “It’s Julia. Yeah, I know, who else. We’ve finished studying,” she winked my way, “but Elliott wants to take me to a restaurant while we’re in Charleston. Is that okay? Uh, huh. Uh, huh. Uh, huh. Around eleven, dad. Okay. See you then. Love you too.”

She hung up and smiled at me.

“Done,” she said. “Should you call your folks?”

“No, I told them I’d be home late, but before curfew and they waved me off.”

“Cool. Well, where to? I’m starving. You wore me out Mr.Gray,” she said with another wink.

“What’s your favorite food Jules?”

“On the count of three,” she teased. “One, two, three....”

“Italian,” we said in unison, then laughed until we almost spilled onto the ground.

“You’re so fun,” she said.

“No. You’re so fun.”

“Where to eat?” She asked, clasping her hands together.

“Excuse me?” I asked a local walking by, “The best place to get Italian?”

“Oh. Yeah. Fazio’s on Bullitt. It’s about five minutes northeast from here,” he said pointing in the direction of Fazio’s. “Just follow Capitol to Smith Street, take a left. Right on Court, left on Piedmont, tight on Bullitt. Fazio’s is on your right.”

I thanked him and dragged Jules to the truck. I threw her into the passenger seat and playfully leaned over her to put her seat belt on for her and kept my face close to hers.

“Comfortable miss Jacobs?”

“Yes, very,” she breathed deeply.

I kept my hand on hers and caught my breathe when I felt things I’d never thought I could share with someone let alone feel. I moved my face close to hers and our breaths washed warmly against each other’s cheeks. I just stared as she bit her bottom lip.

“Oh my God Jules.” I breathed deeply. “You have to stop doing that.”