The Possibility of Us Read online

  I moved to kiss her again, to taste that moan. Her tongue pushed against mine, hungrier, harder. I slid my lips against her neck and her throat, descended down the center of her chest, my tongue on her stomach, teasing her belly button. “I’ve decided this is the lobster of body parts.”

  She laughed, and I went even lower. A velvety sigh escaped her, a sound that made my whole body ache. I looked up at her, my mouth open, but too dazed to speak, adoring the expanse of her soft white skin I was now lucky enough to call home. I slid my hand underneath the lace of her panties, teasing her as I moved down her delicate skin. I stroked her slowly at first, her body rocking against mine, guiding my finger faster until she seized against me—clutching me with her thighs. When I slipped my finger inside and her body gave in a way that turned from just temptation to urgency, I could tell she was ready. I’d touched her before, but this was different—this was her letting me be the one, be her only one.

  “You were worth the wait.” I licked at her stomach again, tasting her sweet skin.

  “We were worth the wait,” she replied. “Now take your pants off.”

  I laughed and scrambled to stand, unbuttoning my jeans and throwing them across the room at Olympic speed.

  She called me back over to the bed, to her beautiful body, beckoning with one finger. “No more waiting.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Cassie

  I slipped out of Ben’s room early, after I’d already called Laura and asked her to get rid of Drew. I needed to come back into our room and get my stuff, and I didn’t want Drew there fucking shit up.

  I was back at Ben’s in fifteen minutes with my bag packed and ready to go. There was no more losing when it came to him and me. Not if I could help it. I guess even if I tried my hardest not to be a princess, I couldn’t help wanting Ben to be my prince.

  There were VA hospitals and community colleges in Maine. It had everything New York had, except for Ben.

  As I was about to knock on the door, it opened. Ben was standing there with his bag packed at his side.

  “I’m coming with you,” I said, before he could speak.

  “I’m coming with you,” he replied, indicating his bag.

  “No,” I said slowly, forcefully, “I’m coming with you.”

  “No,” he repeated, octave for octave, “I’m coming with you.”

  Drew walked up behind him. I’d kind of forgotten sending him out of mine and Laura’s room meant he’d have to come back up here. “You guys seriously sound like a crazy homeless man having an argument with himself. Make a fucking decision.” He laughed, walking into the bathroom and closing the door. I heard the shower turn on, a roar in the walls.

  At least he was leaving us alone.

  “Does he know what he owes for the room yet?” I asked.

  Ben shook his head. “Soon enough.”

  “I think we should just get the hell out of here before he finds out.”

  “Off into the sunset, Bonnie and Clyde style?”

  “Minus the guns, I guess.”

  “Hoping to avoid another stint at Turning Pines?”

  “Oh fuck yes.” I laughed.

  We stood there staring at each other for a moment like we both actually had guns, waiting to see who would shoot first.

  “So, am I going with you, or are you coming with me?” I asked.

  “I think the only question is, do you really want to live with Drew?”

  I’d wanted to go with Ben, but his current situation was not at all ideal. The thought of living with Drew was definitely not a happily ever after, but I knew it wouldn’t be permanent. The only permanent thing that mattered was me and Ben, Ben and me.

  It was the only thing that had ever mattered.

  “I will for you,” I said.

  He shook his head. “I don’t want things getting in the way of us anymore, Cassie, especially not my asshole brother.”

  “So you admit he’s an asshole.”

  “I admit he can be,” Ben said, smiling.

  “Does that mean we’re going back to New York?”

  “I guess so,” he said with a heavy nod.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, looking into his eyes for my own reassurance.

  “My life isn’t a life without you, Cassie. It hasn’t been, and it won’t be.”

  “But you’re willing to leave everything behind?” I asked, even though I had been, too. “What about your asshole brother?” I added, wanting him to know I understood what he was sacrificing for me. What I’d been willing to sacrifice for him.

  “I think we’re both ready to start taking care of ourselves,” he said. “And if you’ll let me, I’m ready to start taking care of you.”

  The shower turned off , and we both looked at the closed door of the bathroom, listened to the shock of the silence. Drew would be ready to go and viewing his bill soon.

  “I don’t really have time to repeat what I just said,” Ben continued, “but it’s Drew’s apartment and his band. I was kind of just subletting his life.” He planted his eyes on me. “You are everything.”

  I kissed him quickly, a kiss of agreement. “But what will you do in Collinsville?”

  “I was thinking they might have room for me at that community college you were talking about. Someone told me I should probably work with kids, so I was considering studying to be a music teacher.” He smiled.

  “You’d be amazing,” I said, reaching out for his hands.

  “What should we do with him?” he asked, flicking his head toward the bathroom.

  “I’m sure Laura would drive him home.” I dialed my cell and told her what Ben and I were doing. Luckily, she was on break from school and didn’t want to punch Drew in the nuts every time she saw him, so she was more than willing to help.

  “We’re taking off,” Ben yelled through the bathroom door, pulling a Drew. “Laura’s going to drive you back to Maine,” he added, also pulling a Ben because he would never be selfish enough to just leave without making sure Drew knew he had a way home.

  Drew stepped back into the hotel room, his hair wet. He had a towel around his waist. “Does that mean you guys are finally fucking back together?”

  “We finally fucking are,” I said, unable to keep myself from smiling, forgetting for a moment I was still on the phone.

  “About fucking time,” I heard Laura say through the speaker, laughing at her language. “Tell Drew to meet me in the lobby when he’s ready, and make sure you call me,” she added, then hung up.

  Ben put his arms around me, picked me up, and twirled me around like we’d just won something. I yelped and kicked my legs back, enjoying the ride.

  I heard Drew behind us pretending to retch. “At least I’m close to a toilet this time,” he said, closing the bathroom door behind him.

  “You do realize this means that I got my way,” Ben said, putting me down.

  “Fuck you,” I replied, with more love than I’d ever given those two words.

  We headed down the hall to the elevator in a haze, buzzing all the way downstairs and the whole time we rushed through the lobby to the parking lot.

  It was snowing lightly, and I couldn’t help thinking of the snow as rice Rawe was throwing down on us from wherever she was up there—helping us celebrate our last day of regret, our first day of beginning—the beginning of us.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ben

  “You drive,” I said, throwing Cassie the keys.

  “Fuck yeah!” she said, eyeing the Camaro as we got inside.

  It seemed symbolic when she started the car and drove us out of the parking lot. It was just her and me doing what we wanted to do. We were in control of our life together.

  For once, circumstance wouldn’t rule us: we would.

  “I can’t fucking believe we’re doing this,” she said, the smile on her face so big it made her nose wrinkle.

  I couldn’t, either, but also I knew this weekend couldn’t have ended any other way.
/>   I didn’t want to be the person I was without Cassie, and I didn’t want her to be the person she was without me.

  “I guess I need to find a job,” I said.

  “Surf shop?” she asked.

  “You think they’re hiring?” I joked.

  She smiled. “There are tons of kids in Collinsville who I’m sure would love learning how to smash the shit out of drums from you.”

  “Private lessons are definitely a place to start while I get settled with school,” I said, nodding as her idea became mine.

  I heard my phone ding with a text, then another. I looked at it. “Drew says he’s taking the money we spent out of the portion of the security deposit I paid toward his apartment. He also said we’re fucking assholes.” I couldn’t help starting to laugh.

  “This is one time I will happily be called an asshole.”

  “Okay, asshole,” I replied.

  Cassie revved the engine, looked at the rearview mirror. “Not by you, asshole,” she said, laughing.

  “Will you elbow me in the balls if I tell you I can’t imagine my life without you?”

  “No,” she said, “but if you make me cry, I definitely fucking will.”

  “You are my only, Cassie,” I said, touching her thigh. I needed to say the words. I needed her to know I was all-in this time.

  She took her hand off the wheel for the moment and ran it over mine. “I’m ready to give that role a shot,” she replied, turning onto the interstate.

  In that moment, with the car barreling down the road like a shooting star you’d put all your wishes on, the snow blowing around us like confetti, and Cassie finally by my side, the chance was all I needed.

  The possibility of us was enough.

  About the Author

  Lisa Burstein is a tea seller by day and a writer by night. She received her MFA in Creative Writing from the Inland Northwest Center for Writers at Eastern Washington University. She is also the author of Pretty Amy, The Next Forever, Dear Cassie and Sneaking Candy. She lives in Portland, Oregon with her very patient husband, a neurotic dog and two cats.

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  Other books by Lisa Burstein

  Pretty Amy

  The Next Forever

  Dear Cassie

  Sneaking Candy

  Find out where Ben & Cassie’s love story began in

  Lisa Burstein’s DEAR CASSIE

  Read on for a sneak peek!

  What if the last place you should fall in love is the first place that you do?

  You’d think getting sent to Turning Pines Wilderness Camp for a month-long rehabilitation “retreat” and being forced to re-live it in this journal would be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.

  You’d be wrong.

  There’s the reason I was sent to Turning Pines in the first place: I got arrested. On prom night. With my two best friends, who I haven’t talked to since and probably never will again. And then there’s the real reason I was sent here. The thing I can’t talk about with the guy I can’t even think about.

  What if the moment you’ve closed yourself off is the moment you start to break open?

  But there’s this guy here. Ben. And the more I swear he won’t—he can’t—the deeper under my skin he’s getting. After the thing that happened, I promised I’d never fall for another boy’s lies.

  And yet I can’t help but wonder…what if?

  I Don’t Even Want to Say How Many Days to Go

  Are you there, Smokey Bear? It’s me, Cassie.

  I’m in a shitty shack in the woods with nothing to start the fires you are so desperate to keep people from igniting. I also have no cigarettes to light the stuff that starts fires. I’m seriously pretending to smoke this pencil. If I find some matches I may actually end up smoking it.

  I’m at a sleep-away camp for criminals—a mosquito pit that’s supposed to pass as court-ordered rehab. I have no cell phone, none of my own clothes, and no jewelry. They took the dog-tags my brother gave me. They took the six silver hoops that I have worn in my ears since, like, forever. My holes will probably close up, but jewelry can be used as a weapon. The people forced to be here with me would actually consider using jewelry as a weapon.

  I have been given a flashlight. Why that’s not considered a weapon I don’t know, but maybe it’s because it’s essential in a place where lights-out comes at lame-ass nine o’clock p.m. You wouldn’t want to hit someone on the head with it—even though you sort of want to—because then you would have to write this mandatory “Assessment Diary” in the dark.

  If you didn’t see the skywriters, I was arrested with my best friends Lila and Amy on prom night with the shitload of pot we stole from the dickheads who stood us up for the dance. I was driving, Lila was being Mirror-addict Lila, and Amy was in the backseat shitting bricks. That’s the short story.

  I guess this will be the long one.

  I’m supposed to write about why I’m here. I’m glad I have a legal reason to blame, because there is no way in hell I am going to write about why I really think I’m here.

  No matter what, I can never write about that.

  Like I said, it started on prom night.

  I was wearing a tight red dress that Lila had picked out. Something I would never usually wear. It made me feel sexy—and normally I don’t do sexy—but hell, I was already going to the prom, and honestly, that wasn’t something I would normally do, either. Lila was all into it because she had a boyfriend and Amy was all into it because Lila’s boyfriend was getting her a date, and, well, I guess I was all into it because it was either that or stay home with my parents. Which I didn’t want to do for all sorts of reasons, reasons that will probably be another entry I will be forced to write, so I’ll save it.

  The night actually started out kind of fun. The three of us dressed up: Lila in light purple, Amy in light blue, and me in red—fucking Lila. We were laughing and getting along, but then we got to Lila’s boyfriend Brian’s house and it all went to shit. He wasn’t there. None of our dates was.

  I had to give Lila some credit. She was so pissed off about us being stood up by our dates that she actually broke into his house and swiped his marijuana stash.

  That’s about all I’ll give Lila credit for that night.

  I’m supposed to leave the arrest behind me, but that doesn’t mean I can stop thinking about that red dress hanging in my closet, like a dead body in a freezer, and wondering if my mother has hocked it yet for beer money. Oh, crap, see? Now I’m writing about my family. Moving on …

  When I landed at the Arcata, California, airport this afternoon, after the four-hour flight from New York, the arrest wasn’t even on my mind. It was occupied instead by an asshole in a tight white T-shirt and dark jeans, sitting on a metal bench in baggage claim, who kept staring at me like my hair was made of boobs.

  I didn’t know what else to do when I got there except sit on that bench—so cold from the air-conditioning that I could feel it through my cargo pants and on the backs of my arms. I held the strap of my duffel bag tight. It made an angry red mark on my hand.

  “Waiting for someone?” he asked. He didn’t turn to look at me, just talked like we were two old men sitting next to each other in the park. He had wavy brown hair, desperately in need of a cut.

  “Not for you,” I said. We were both sitting there looking around—both obviously waiting for someone. Why did he care who I was waiting for?

  “Who, then?” he asked, not at all understanding that I didn’t want to talk to him. Maybe he was that stupid, or maybe he was that much of an asshole.

  “Get lost,” I said. Even without the cigarette I was dying to smoke, I needed to play it cool, at least until I saw the people in uniforms. Would they be dressed in, like, me
dical whites, or would it be more like policemen?

  I put another stick of cinnamon gum in my mouth, but I didn’t offer him any. My brother, Tim, had bought me one of those Plen-T-packs. He gave it to methat morning when he dropped me off at the airport in my Civic, which he was going to take care of while I was gone. At least my car wasn’t being punished like I was for being there on prom night.

  Tim had never been to rehab, but he’d been to war just like my dad, and he knew gum could be my new addiction, could be one small thing that might keep me sane. He was right. I needed all the gum I could get.

  I swallowed a mouthful of cinnamon spit.

  “Your mom,” the asshole sitting next to me said.

  “What?” I turned to him. He had that perfect skin some guys have that looks like it belongs on a girl—dewy and glowy and rosy and not all that masculine.

  “You waiting for your mom?” he asked.

  Did I look that young? That lame? Sure, I was still seventeen. My lawyer had said that was what saved me—made it so I could be sent to rehab. I guess it was good my parents didn’t hold me back in kindergarten like my teacher had suggested. Of course, if they had, I wouldn’t have been going to the prom that night anyway.

  I wouldn’t have even known Amy and Lila.

  “No,” I growled. “Screw my mom,” I added, though I’m not sure why. I didn’t mean that, not really. I didn’t give two shits about my mom. I had enough to deal with without thinking about her. Screw him for bringing her up.

  “Poor you,” he said.

  Right, poor me; maybe it was true. I was here. Amy wasn’t—she got probation for ratting me out. And Lila wasn’t—she took off to God knows where. So that left me, Cassie, to deal with this bullshit all alone. Fuck them all anyway.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  He shrugged, one of those infuriating shrugs that said he knew exactly what he wanted but wasn’t about to tell me. He started smacking the tops of his thighs in that way guys who play drums do.