Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Growing Up Girl ❯ Chapter 10

I could barely wait for the week to be over. I sped through my work at the office. I smiled all the way home on the bus. I went to bed early to pass the time. All week, I was excited. When Friday rolled around, I left work early, wanting to get home and sit by the phone and wait for Heero to call. At exactly 5:23, the time I usually walk through the door and take off my shoes, the phone rang. I turned off the tv and answered it, a smile in my voice. "Hello?" It was Heero. He wanted to come pick me up and we'd go out for drinks. Of course, I accepted.

I wore pants, so that I could get on the bike easier. He handed me the spare helmet. I climbed on the bike behind him.

Trowa and Wufei were at the bar. Heero and I sat at a table and watched them play pool. The jukebox was playing more recent songs. College students were everywhere. Heero waved at a lot of people. He was popular. Popular, but distant. I wondered how many people had gotten close to him? And how close had they gotten?

Wufei and Trowa had to pay up. They'd lost the game. I smiled at them and patted Trowa on the shoulder to comfort him. The three of them sat around drinking beers. I nursed my strawberry daiquiri. Everything felt so natural, until I realized something: This wasn't a date. Heero had taken me out for drinks with the guys. I listened to their conversation. They were talking about motorcycles. I lowered my eyebrows and glared at Heero. After a moment, he noticed and stared at me. "What?"

All three of them stared at me. "I need to talk to you. Privately." I got up and left the bar. Heero followed not far behind. I turned to glare at him, arms crossed over my chest. "What exactly is going on, here?"

He looked confused. "What?"

"Why did you bring me out drinking with your guy friends?"

He raised an eyebrow and stared at me as if I had lost my mind. "I... thought you had fun with them last time?"

"I did... but I'd rather just spend time with you. Or is this not a date?"

He looked around. He was confused and surprised. I'd caught him off guard. Maybe I was being a little harsh. "I... don't know what this is. Just spending time together, I guess."

"Time together, alone, would be better, Heero."

He smirked and shook his head, hands on his hips. His jacket bunched up around his waist. He took a step closer and looked into my eyes. Smooth was the only way to describe it. He looked smooth. "So you want me to take you on a real date, then?" I wasn't taken in by his charms. I nodded. He put his hand on my cheek and leaned forward. His lips caused my body to tighten and my stomach to clench. All of that from such a short kiss.

I hadn't known that I could ever be left breathless. I'd seen it in movies. Read about it. I thought it was over dramatic, things like that happening. It wasn't. It was real. "Let me go tell the guys. I'll be right back."

I waited outside, motionless. I was standing on the porch, right in front of the door. It didn't surprise me too much when a man, completely drunk, came stumbling outside and bumped right into me. I grabbed onto the railing to steady myself. He grabbed onto me to steady himself. His hand groped my chest. I gasped, turned around, and slapped him. He fell over. His friends, also drunk, started yelling at me. They got up in my face. They called me a bitch. A cunt. A whore. I pressed back against the railing. The man I'd slapped came up to me and grabbed my arm. He started jerking me around. I tried to pull away. He slapped me across the face. I screamed and fell to the floor. They were yelling things at me, grabbing on to me and groping me. I was disgusted and angry and scared. I kicked at them and fought back.

One of them was suddenly pulled away. Another was hit over the back with a chair, which broke apart. He fell, face-first and motionless, onto the floor beside me. I saw Heero grab one of them by the shoulder, spin him around, and hit him so hard he fell backwards, broke the railing, and dropped a good five feet to the cobblestone road below. He didn't get back up. I'd never seen a fight like this before. I'd never known punches could be that powerful, so forceful that Heero's entire body followed the momentum of it. I crawled back into a corner and watched. More people were joining in, pouring out of the bar to jump on Heero and Trowa and Wufei. It was a complete drunken brawl.

Heero was shoved onto the ground. I shrieked as I watched his face connect with the wooden planks and slide painfully against the splintering wood. More people jumped into the fight. In a moment of bravery I didn't know I possessed, I stood up and dove into the fight. I knew it was stupid. I was one of the only women fighting. Huge men with sweaty faces and hairy chests, their breath smelling like vodka and whiskey, were all around me. I shoved through the crowd to get to Heero. A man was standing between us. He wasn't much bigger than me. I grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around, like Heero had done. Then I punched him in the face. There was a painful cracking in my hand as my knuckles hit his jaw. Surprisingly, he fell to the floor. I stood motionless, staring at my fist.

The lessons I'd taken with Heero had paid off, apparently. Even after so long, now, I remembered how to punch. I rather liked it, too.

Heero grabbed my arm and pulled me down the stairs. We heard sirens wailing over Matchbox 20, the jukebox still playing loudly inside. We ran to the bike and didn't bother to put our helmets on. As soon as my arms were wrapped securely around his waist, we took off. I laughed loudly. Adrenaline was screaming in my veins, leaving me excited and shaking and crying all at once, anything to get the emotions out.

I didn't know where we were heading. I didn't care. Heero's hand slid down to mine and covered it from the cool wind. I put my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. My braid flew around behind me and slapped my back. I listened to the whining of the engine.

I could have fallen asleep. Maybe I did. When I finally opened my eyes, we were on the outskirts of town, slowing down as we pulled into a driveway. The house in front of us was small and looked rather rundown. There were sheets hanging up like curtains in the windows. I saw someone peek out from behind them. Heero turned off the bike and wheeled it under the carport. I got off the bike as he locked it up. "Where are we?"

He looked around. "Oh, this is my place."

I blinked at him and stared at the pathetic building, trying to remind myself that he was a young college student who worked at a supermarket part-time. We walked to the door. The concrete path had broken pieces and the plants that lined it were all dead. It wasn't locked. We stepped inside.

The floor seemed to have once been a creme color, so badly worn and dirty that it was brown. The walls had stains. The tv was screaming loudly, an old western show on. People waved to Heero from the couch and the recliner. I didn't recognize them. They all had beers.

The house was dimly lit, but I caught site of Heero's face and let out a surprised sound. He stared at me, then reached up to touch his bleeding cheek. He took me into the bathroom and handed over a small first-aid kit. "Would you mind?"

I took it from him. He closed the toilet lid and sat down, taking off his jacket. That was the first time I'd seen him without it on. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, resting in a bundle atop his shoulders. I tried to ignore how large his arms were compared to mine, how attractive they were, how powerful. I knelt down in front of him. He leaned forward and I used an alcohol pad to clean the area.

He started to hiss in pain. I blew lightly on his cheek. I hadn't meant it to seem that intimate. He closed his eyes and I could swear he was smiling. "This is nice."

I smiled and shook my head. "Cleaning up a bloody face after a drunken brawl?"

"No... having a woman here to take care of me." He turned his head just slightly and kissed the inside of my wrist. I couldn't move.

It was such a simple, simple action, yet it sent sparks of excitement through my body. It seems cliche, but I nearly shivered at the small contact. I tried to concentrate on the scratches across his cheek. There were splinters dug into his skin. "Do you have tweezers?"

He pulled open a drawer and searched around until he found them and handed them over. I had to get closer to see them. I held the back of his head with one hand. We were so close, I could feel him breathing. It was hard to keep my hand steady. There were only three, but it took me forever to remove them. My hand rested against his cheek. I could feel the roughness of facial stubble against my wrist. The splinters removed, I smoothed antibacterial cream into his cheek. It left the skin there shiny and greasy. I used toilet paper to wipe it off of my fingers as Heero grabbed his jacket. He left the room. I followed him down the hall, where he opened a door and stepped inside. The room was dark. I closed the door just as he turned on a lamp near his bed, which was nothing more than a mattress on the floor, covered with a blanket and sheet. The curtain was a sheet, tacked up. There was a pillow without a case on the floor. There were posters on the walls of motorcycles and motorcycles with women on them. The stereo had only one speaker. The dresser drawers were hanging open. The small table had only an alarm clock and a lamp. His books were piled up in a corner, near an open backpack. There was a pair of roller blades in the floor of his closet which had no door, along with a pair of tennis shoes. I smiled.

"Nice."

He sat down on the mattress bed and shrugged. "It's a place to sleep. And drink. Speaking of which: would you mind getting me a beer from the fridge?"

I didn't even bother to argue that I was the guest and he should be getting me a beer. The fridge had three six-packs, a bowl with an unidentifiable red sauce in it, an open can of chicken noodle soup, and a bag of baby carrots. I grabbed two beers and headed back to Heero's room.

He had his shirt off when I came in the room. I nearly dropped the beers. It was hard just to walk over to him and hand one over. I kept one for myself, already guessing that I'd need it, even though I hate beer. I sat down beside him and popped it open. Silence hung in the air like heavy fog.

Heero slurped from the can. I played with the tab. "Thank you, Heero."

"Hm? For what?" He stared straight ahead, at the wall.

"For helping me, I guess. You're really the only person who's... helped me." I remembered Linda, the prostitute who had helped me in the only way she could, and I sighed. "No, I guess that's not true. Others have helped me. But you're the only person who's cared. Who's protected me."

He touched the top of my head, ran his hand down my hair, down the length of the braid. "You're welcome." His hand came to rest on my lower back. I looked over at him. He was looking at me and smiling.

There was something in his eyes. Something I'd seen before. I knew then why he'd helped me. He wanted something in return.

But I must have been mistaken, because he didn't move. He didn't try to kiss me or take advantage of me. Didn't force me to the floor and have his way with me and make me cry. Maybe I only saw that because it's what I expected. It's what so many other men would have wanted and done.

He just let his hand rest on my back, fingers moving every now and then, sometimes touching my braid again. And I stared ahead at the wall, at a picture of a large, powerful Harley Davidson with chrome and a red and black color scheme. "Why do you protect me, anyway?"

Heero took his hand off my back and scooted back on the bed, leaning against the wall. He held his beer in his lap. "I guess I just don't like seeing women hurt. In any way. I've seen enough of that."

"That wouldn't explain why you helped me back then... in school."

Heero looked right at me. I saw his face. There was no room for lying. There was no sign of bullshit, to put it simply. "I guess I already knew, back then. I was just too young to realize it."

I smiled and lay down on my side, using Heero's thigh as a pillow. I silently kissed his black jeans, hoping he wouldn't notice. He played with the wisps of stray hair around my ear. "Honestly, I didn't think guys like you existed. You're just so... nice."

Heero's hand stopped moving. "I'm not that nice."

"Yes you are. You've got a rough exterior going on, the whole macho image, but inside, you're one of the kindest people I've met." His fingers continued to play with my hair.

I woke up Saturday morning to see my hand in front of my face, resting on a bare chest. It took me a moment to realize where I was. Heero was beneath me, awake but breathing softly and staring at the ceiling. When I moved, he noticed I was awake and smiled at me. I tried to remember how I'd fallen asleep.

The sheet was pulled up over my shoulders. I could hear the television in the living room. Cars drove by on the road outside the window. "What time is it?"

Heero checked his watch. "9:30."

I sat up, feeling a little sad for leaving such a warm, comfortable spot. He sat up as well. I watched his muscles flex as he stood up, grabbing a shirt from the floor to put on. "I fell asleep?" I pulled on my shirt, trying to smooth out some of the wrinkles. I realized my shoes were still on. What a dumb question.

"Uh... yeah. Not long after you laid down on my lap." He stretched and yawned and walked around a bit. I still hadn't gotten out of the bed. "Breakfast?"

I only ate breakfast on rare occasions. I shook my head. "I should probably get home. I need a shower."

Heero nodded. I stared at the large bruised scrape on his cheek and felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I couldn't help but smiling. He probably didn't know why I was doing it, but he grinned back at me, all the same.

When Heero dropped me off, he took off his helmet and walked me up the stairs to my building. I hesitated going inside, fingers gripping the door, but not really wanting to pull it open. "Again, thanks for last night."

He nodded and stared down, scraping his boot across the concrete steps. It must have taken courage, because I noticed his hesitation as he took another step forward. He came closer to me and looked into my eyes. I wondered if he was going to kiss me. I wondered if this would be the first kiss we would share where he wasn't uncertain, I wasn't uncertain, as to why it had been done.

And he did kiss me. There was more nervousness than passion. It was awkward. He bumped his nose against mine, but ignored it. Our teeth knocked together and we smiled. And after the initial nervousness was over, there was nothing but a breath-seizing emotion, all through my body. I felt his tongue touch mine. It was cold and tasted of toothpaste. I held his shoulder gently. He inhaled and exhaled and the passage of air across my cheek tickled me.

And then it was over.

He stepped away, smiled, and turned to walk down the steps. "I'll call you tonight." And he waved at me from the bike before driving away.

I touched my fingers to my lips and hurried inside, my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted to scream. I wanted to dance. I wanted to jump from a building and just fly off. But first, I needed to call Hilde.