CHAPTER FIFTEEN: in which he meets her part 2- AXEL

Twelve years ago

AXEL

“Shondra. Shondra Williams,” she said, turning our hands over.

Shondra the big.

Shondra the bold.

Shondra the beautiful.

She wore a light pink T-shirt, a gray leather jacket zipped to her mountains, and ripped blue jeans. Small silver hoops dangled from her earlobes and small glinting diamonds, three on each side, rose into her cartilage. Her makeup was over the top, like that of an Instagram model, but the bone structure underneath supported her fineness.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

She smiled, her braces glinting in the sun. I hadn’t seen the metal kind on anyone except in old sitcoms. All the people I knew could afford the invisible ones. I found the uniqueness made her even more attractive.

“Thank you, Axel.”

I like the way she took my compliment and put it in her pocket.

Shondra trailed a finger down the back of my hand, raising gooseflesh on my arms. “You have nice skin.”

Her matter-of-fact tone did nothing for me. Her touch, however, caused a hitch in my throat. I had to clear it before I thanked her.

A hint of a smile graced her face before it disappeared under her concentrated brow. “Your hands are very smooth, but your palms are rough.”

That summed up my personality too. Smooth with the ladies and rough on the field ... and between the sheets.

Take it easy, Axel.

My playa-instincts told me to slow down with this girl. Hell, woman. She was rockin’ her style and makeup so well; she had to be over eighteen.

“Is that why you are holding my hand? To give me an analysis?” I squeezed her fingers. An acceptable substitute for the other parts of her anatomy I desperately wanted to explore. “She cocked her head, elongating that beautiful neck I wanted to make my mark on.

She giggled. “Nooo. That’s not why.”

“Then why?”

Her gaze was on our hands as she spoke. “I just want to is all.”

The contrast between our skin tones was striking. Mine had the tint of a northern tan while hers was like rich Vermont syrup, a smooth, buttery brown.

I’d pour her all over my pancakes and eat every drop.

A child’s shriek from the swings broke me from my lustful thoughts.

“So what’s going on around here.” My “here” came out as “he-ya”.

She giggled again, laughing at my accent, which was more pronounced when I was nervous. I couldn’t help it. True beauty always wound me up.

Still, I couldn’t look weak in front of her. Shondra had displayed no hesitation in rejecting the guys who delivered crap lines and sported big egos. I wasn’t about to be among the losers.

Palman qui meruit.

I straightened my spine and gave her the look I reserved for my opposition on the football field. “Are you laughing at me?” I growled.

Her eyes grew wary, like two Victorian plates behind the window of an antique shop. She tugged her hand from mine. The cold rushed into my palm like an Arctic blast.

“No.” She looked over the field, past the players on the courts and into the distance. “I wasn’t. I was just thinking.”

Say something dumb-ass.

“Hey. I was just kidding, Shondra.” Forcing a laugh, I and twisted on the bench so she could see my candor. “I can be fake mad too, can’t I?” Girls back home loved it. They said my bad boy look made them throb.

Shondra kicked her feet out from under the bench, crossing her legs at the ankles. The shoelaces of her tattered gray Converse trailed the ground. “I don’t know you like that,” she pouted, biting the corner of her plump lower lip.

Hot damn, that’s sexy!

Usually when a girl played hard to get, I was out. Axel Sexton was above the chase. Not so with Shondra, I wanted to know the woman behind the stellar beauty.

“Will you give me a chance so you can?”

She skipped my question and asked one of her own. “So where do you live? I’ve never seen you at the park before.” Her gaze flickered to mine, and I became lost for a moment, busy imagining them full of sleep after I’d taken her all night.

“Um. I-I’m here with my parents, visiting my aunt and uncle. They have a house a couple of streets over.”

She nodded. Gathering her hair together from the base of her neck, she threw it over her shoulder.

No tracks or nothing. Shit is real.

I didn’t mind wigs, weaves, extensions or braids. It was just helpful to know the lay of the land so I wouldn’t tug them loose during sex.

“So... Axel, are you just here for Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah.”

I sighed, already wishing we were staying longer. It was kinda funny that normally for the break; we went skiing. Well, Dad and I did. Mom sat by the fireplace and read books all day. Anyway, when Mom first proposed this trip to visit her great Aunt, I threw a fit. I had been looking forward to the new crop of snow bunnies I’d plow all week. Last ski trip, I was in so many girls’ rooms, I barely spent time on my own. To solve the stand-off, Dad promised to take us to Aspen for Christmas. I reluctantly relented. Now, the thought of leaving filled me with a drudgery sort of sadness, like sludge at the bottom of a drain.

I know already that I’ll miss her.

Shondra sensed my moroseness and leaned in closer, bumping my shoulder. “So where are you from?”

“Vermont.”

Her face lit up like a department store Christmas tree and her voice held awe. “You are so lucky! I’ve always wanted to see the abscission of the leaves there.”

I swatted at a fly that buzzed in my ear, and my annoyance at the insect laced my words. “The what?”

She leaned away from me, probably thinking I’d directed my pique at her. “Abscission is the shedding of a tree’s leaves.” Her mouth curled into a defensive frown and she tossed her hair back. The parts the sun dappled on glowed like auburn fire. “I’m a girl who likes science and math. I won’t apologize for it.”

Shondra reminded me of the queen Nana Yaa Asantewain I’d read about in my World Culture class—proud and fierce. In that moment, I ached for her like no other.