Page 55 of Ancient History

Hutch was hanging by the athlete’s table, his natural habitat, flanked by students who were probably shooting the shit over the soccer victories. After a lackluster football season in the fall, South Rock needed this boost. He held court as he gave them a play by play. Hutch had this inborn ability to be popular. It astounded me that he was a loner in Nashville.

He’d probably be too busy to eat today, and that was fine. He deserved this moment. He and his team worked hard.

When I got to our table, on my chair was an opened bag of Skittles consisting of only reds, purples, and oranges. I glanced over at the star of the hour, and he shot me a subtle wink that was like its own version of a quickie.

The rest of the day flew by as a raucous energy took over the school the closer we got to the pep rally. After sixth period, where half of my class was fully checked out, I got a message notification on Milkman.

SoccerStar: Meet at my car for a quick nap?

Mr. Brightside: You’re tired? You have a pep rally in 40 minutes.

SoccerStar: Hence the nap.

Mr. Brightside: You want a nap. Sure.

SoccerStar: Just a nap. No Shitheads Allowed.

I met up with Hutch in the teacher parking lot. He leaned against his car like he was auditioning to play Jake Ryan inSixteen Candles. The sight of him drove me wild.

“Funny running into you here,” I said.

He flashed me a sexy smirk that made my stomach do a somersault. “Want to take a quick ride?”

“What happened to the nap?”

“Do you trust me?”

Who was I to say no to a cute guy?

Hutch drove us to a familiar spot: the parking lot of an abandoned ice cream stand. Scoop’s Ice Cream had been a big deal up until the mid-2000s, when code violations forced it to shut down. It was too far from downtown to attract new tenants, which was a shame because it was on a hill that overlooked the Hudson River. That view was one of the things that attracted us to this spot in high school. That, and it was secluded.

“And what are we doing here?” I asked.

Hutch launched at me, pulling me into a kiss. “No time for banter. I have a pep rally in half an hour, and I’m way too hard to nap.” He pulled my hand to his crotch for proof.

Without saying a word, we climbed into his backseat. We kissed and groped in a maelstrom of heat and hunger.

“Today’s been crazy. Everyone’s been coming up to me, congratulating the team. We were expected to lose the second game. It’s been amazing, but exhausting recounting the games. I love it, though. After years of feeling out of the loop, I’m back on the field, just in a different capacity.”

“I’ll have to come to the games.” I leaned into him, letting his hardness dig into my thigh. I remembered his back seat as being more spacious. Maybe I was more flexible back then.

“So I came out to Raleigh this weekend,” he said. He massaged his fingers softly through my hair, then down my neck. He knew all my spots. I tipped my head forward, giving him full access.

“You did? How’d it go?”

“Cool. Shockingly cool. He was whatever about it.”

“Nice. This also feels nice,” I said, rubbing against him in between kisses.

“Did you finish the Skittles?”

“You know it. But there’s something I still don’t understand, something that will keep me up at night. Why do you only like green and yellow skittles? They are the worst ones.”

His chest rumbled underneath me. Our heads were turned to the sunroof where soft white clouds floated past our vision.

“I only eat them because I know you love the reds, purples, and oranges.”

I sat up, looked at him to make sure he was serious. I’d never felt so touched in my life. I kissed him softly at first, but with more heat when he cupped my head in his hand.

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