Inevitably Yours

Michael grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the trampoline with him. His grip was strong, and his hand was warm. I didn’t even resist as he pulled.

“I’m just warning you, this could be bad for your health,” I said as we both kicked our shoes off into the grass.

“And why is that?” he asked. He sat against the edge of the trampoline, easily pushing himself up onto it. I looked up at him as he stood on the stretchy black surface.

“I’m not exactly coordinated. I don’t play sports with balls or sticks because it can be dangerous,” I told him.

Michael laughed. “I’ll take my chances,” he said. I awkwardly climbed up into the trampoline as he stood in the center. When I was on my feet, he began to bounce softly. My arms came out to steady myself.

“Jump with me,” Michael laughed. I moved my legs just enough to make myself bounce, and soon we were both moving in a steady rhythm.

“So, are you going to explain how you know where I live?” I asked. I kept my eyes down on my feet like it was going to prevent me from falling. I avoided his eyes, not wanting to take a chance at staring at him too long.

“Nope,” he said. I could hear the cockiness in his voice. “I’m magic.”

“You mispronounced creepy,” I commented.

“If you found me creepy, you wouldn’t be out here right now,” he argued.

“True,” I shrugged. We continued to jump, and I could feel him coming down a little harder, pushing himself up higher.

“So, tell me something about freshman Quinn,” he said.

“Or you could tell me something about not-magic Michael,” I countered. “I don’t even know what grade you are in.”

“Okay, that’s fair. I’m a senior this year,” he said. I stopped my movement entirely but then regretted it as his momentum caused me to spill forward. I knocked into his legs, making him fall. Luckily, he was able to avoid falling on top of me.

As I pushed myself up, I looked at him. “You’re a senior? Like you graduate after this year?” I asked.

“You are kinda clumsy, aren’t you? Although, you probably shouldn’t just stop jumping,” he said, chuckling slightly. “I said senior, and that generally means I will be graduating.”

“Then why are you here?” I asked stupidly.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

My mouth moved, but words weren’t forming. What did a senior want with a freshman? We probably didn’t even have anything in common. He looked very much like a jock, a popular one who dates a lot of beautiful girls. My friend group was small and not very popular, and I partook in the least popular of extracurriculars like band. My ideal afternoon was sitting in a comfy armchair with a warm drink and a good book.

“Does that bother you?” he asked after watching me sputter for a moment.

Did it bother me? I guess it didn’t; it surprised and confused me more than anything. “It doesn’t really bother me,” I concluded. “I guess it just confuses me.”

“You shouldn’t worry about it so much,” he shrugged. He pushed himself up to his feet and held his hand out for me. I hesitantly took it, and he helped me up. “There aren’t any rules for who you can be friends with.”

Michael grabbed my other hand and began to move his legs slowly. We started hopping while he held onto my hands. “Friends?” I asked.

“You don’t want to be my friend?” he asked cheekily.

“No!” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean that.” I paused for a second as we started to move a little more. He slowly moved us so that we were jumping higher but in sync. “I don’t see why we can’t be friends, I guess. Although, I still don’t know anything about you other than your grade and the fact that you have a little brother.”

“Okay, how about I tell you something about me, and you tell me something about you. I’ll even go first,” he said. His confident, handsome smile never left his face. It was so easy-going and welcoming. I couldn’t help but think about how natural of a leader he would be; he had a habit of making someone relax around him.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“First,” he said. “I like hot sauce.”

I laughed. “You like hot sauce? That is what you are starting with?”

“Made you laugh, didn’t it?” he shot back. I nodded, not able to deny it.

“Okay, I like books,” I said.

“Nope!” he said loudly. “That is too obvious. I need something else.”

“How is that fair? I have never expressly said I like books before now,” I argued.

“Yes, but you had one at the pool, and you even brought one out here today. I even have a suspicion you were reading when I called last night,” he pointed out. I pouted a little.

“Fine,” I said. “I like to cook.”

“I like to eat,” he said happily. “Maybe we will be best friends.” That made me laugh again.

“Your turn,” I smiled.

“I wrestle,” he said.

“Not surprising,” I said. Michael opened his mouth in mock indignation.

“Am I really an open book?” he asked.

“No,” I said, tilting my head. “You just look really athletic. You have muscular legs and a muscular chest.”

His expression morphed into one of approval. I knew I had made a mistake immediately. “So, you were checking out my legs and chest?” His eyebrow raised in question.

“No!” I said quickly as my face heated up. We were jumping pretty high now, and we still held hands. I hadn’t even noticed.

“Your turn,” he laughed, sparing me.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“I run,” I said. “Cross country, not track,” I clarified.

“Really?” he asked in surprise.

“What does that mean?” I responded.

“I just wasn’t expecting that,” he said. “You don’t look very fast.”

I laughed at that. “I’m not. That’s why I run cross country. They only care that you make it across the finish line and look like you’re trying to be fast. Plus, it keeps my lungs in shape for band.”

“You play?” he asked. “What instrument?”

“Saxophone,” I said.

“Which one?” he questioned further. I was surprised now. Most people didn’t know there were different ones.

“Tenor for now,” I answered. “But I want to play Bari. I prefer it to the others.”

Michael let out a hearty laugh. He let go of my hand and let himself fall onto his back. His sudden change in rhythm caused me to falter. I fell to my butt and bounced up and down until we both stopped. Michael was still laughing, but I was just confused.

“What is so funny?” I finally asked.

“Well, two things,” he answered. “First, no offense, but how could you possibly march with a Bari? It’s like the size of you!”

“That’s mean!” I accused.

“Second,” he went on, ignoring me. “You can’t play it in marching band because I stopped you!”

I stared at him in confusion. We met a day ago; how could he have stopped me from doing anything? Slowly the pieces started to connect in my head.

“Wait, the director said that he had someone on the instrument and didn’t need a second. Does that mean…” I trailed off. Michael sat up and nodded.

“You’re looking at the resident Bari Sax player in the Stary High Marching Band,” he smiled proudly. My mouth fell open. I begged to be in that section and was told no. “In my defense, if I knew you were so cute, I would have told the director I was cool with another person in my section.”

“So, you told him not to let me play?” I asked.

“Yea,” he laughed. “I didn’t want to give up my freedom and be straddled to a newbie. Now, I am having second thoughts.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s too late,” I said. “Practice starts in a couple of weeks, and I know half the music for tenor sax.”

“You do know what this means, though,” he said.

“No, what?” I asked.

“We have a class together,” he said triumphantly. I rolled my eyes. “It’s a good thing we’re friends.” Michael stood to his feet once more and offered me his hand. I shook my head, scooting back toward the edge.

“I don’t want to fall a third time, thank you,” I told him. His look turned playful, and he started jumping around. His movement made it hard for me to get to the side where I could sit on the pad-covered springs and save myself from the bouncing.

“Hey!” I cried as I started to bounce about. Michael didn’t stop.

“Loosen up, Quinn,” he teased. He continued to jump around, laughing as I was bounced around at his feet helplessly.

“Please stop!” I squealed. Michael came down, his foot catching my ponytail. I yelped in pain, and he immediately caught himself, stopping his jumping.

“I’m sorry!” he said, quickly landing next to me. His hand came gently to my head, and he rubbed it tenderly. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” I looked up into his face to see worry.

“I’m okay,” I said. Our eyes met, and his look made me pause. All the confidence and cockiness was gone from his face, and it was replaced with tenderness and concern. It caught me completely off-guard.

“That was an accident,” he whispered. His hand moved gently against my scalp.

“It happens,” I said softly. He dropped his hand and softly smiled.

“Maybe we should take a break,” he suggested. I nodded my head absently, still gazing into his eyes. Michael adjusted himself next to me, planting his feet on the trampoline’s surface and resting his arms on his knees. His body was open to me, and he sat pretty close.

The sun was breaking through the trees over us, heating the air. Michael looked at me with a playful smile.

“Your turn,” I told him.

“I’m hungry,” he thought out loud.

“That doesn’t count,” I laughed. He smiled brighter.

“Sure it does,” he said.

“Would you like some lunch?” I asked. I bit my l*p; it felt a little forward, but it was just lunch. I didn’t eat much for breakfast and was getting hungry as well.

“Absolutely!” he said excitedly.

“Alright, let’s go inside.” I twisted around so I could crawl to the edge of the trampoline and carefully get down. When I turned around, Michael still sat there, staring a little absently at me. “Are you coming?” I asked.

“Right, yea,” he said, moving. He climbed off the trampoline and pulled his shoes on; then we headed back up the yard to the back door. I slid it open, leading the way inside.

MICHAEL

“Mmmmm,” Eros growled in my head. We watched Quinn crawl over to the edge of the trampoline and lower herself down. Her shorts were short and hugged her a*s nicely.

I tried to reign my testosterone in. Even spending a little bit of time with her, I knew Quinn wasn’t like that. She got a little flustered when I was close or touched her, but her mind was far away from where mine and Eros’s were.

I didn’t know why, but I was okay with taking this slow for some reason. I wasn’t used to it, but I felt like the Goddess was trying to tell me something here. I’d been drawn to Quinn since I’d seen her at the pool, and I couldn’t stay away. I couldn’t stop thinking about how her shorts would look so much better in the grass at her feet or if she was wearing anything under them. Still, I was determined to keep that to myself and not ruin the moment.

“What would her lips taste like?” I wondered, lost in thought. They were plump, and she was biting her bottom l*p as she looked at me.

“Which ones?” Eros crudely interrupted.

“Not what I meant. d**k,” I shot back.

“Are you coming?” she asked, her honeyed voice spreading pleasant warm pinpricks at the base of my spine as she brought me back to reality. She was looking at me expectantly from the ground. The sun coming through the trees above us made her hair shine and reflect hues of blue.

“Right, yea,” I said. I wondered if her blue hair was the reason for the note in her file that said ‘Breed?’ I’d thought about asking her, but it was too soon. Or maybe she didn’t know either. I moved off the trampoline and pulled my shoes back on before following her inside.

“Why don’t you sit, and I’ll make us something,” she said as we stepped inside. There was a small wooden dining table to one side of the kitchen. Everything was clean and orderly in the room.

“She will make a good mate,” Eros interjected. “It looks like she can feed us.”

“Shut up,” I demanded, pushing him away; he was driving me nuts. I couldn’t handle the whirlwind of emotion I was getting from being around Quinn on top of Eros pining for a mate and putting lewder thoughts in my head than I already had myself. He needed a time-out.

I watched as she went over to the fridge and started pulling things out. She worked quietly, pulling together some sandwiches and adding chips and fruit to the plates. I thought about helping, but when I tried, she shooed me away. It felt weird to sit there and stare, but I got lost in watching her move around the kitchen with easy grace.

It was adorable to see her on her tiptoes, reaching for things above her head while she softly hummed to herself. I couldn’t quite catch what it was, but it sounded incredibly off-key. Now that I knew she was the sax player who’d tried to play Bari with me, I connected that our band director told me she was an excellent musician. I thought it was odd that she couldn’t hum in tune, but it was endearing. I couldn’t wait to hear her play, and I regretted not letting her into my section now. We could have spent so much alone time together without anyone batting an eye at it.

When she finally came over with two plates in her hands, we were joined by her little brother.

“Q, why is he still here?” he asked her.