Rachel, I say, grinning at the embarrassed look on her face.
She looks me in the eyes.
She wants to take a shower with me. Shes just too shy to ask.
Get in, I say.
My voice is hoarse, like Ive been screaming.
My voice was fine five seconds ago.
I close the shower curtain to hide what shes doing to me but
also to give her privacy while she undresses. I havent seen her
without her clothes on. Ive felt whats underneath them.
Im suddenly nervous.
She turns the light off.
Is that fine? she asks timidly. I say it is, but I wish she were
more confident. I need to make her more confident.
She opens the shower curtain, and I see one of her legs make
its way in first. I swallow when the rest of her body follows.
Luckily, theres just enough light from the night-light to cast a
faint glow over her.
I can see her enough.
I can see her perfectly.
Her eyes lock with mine again. She steps closer to me. I
wonder if shes ever shared a shower with anyone before, but
I dont ask her. I take a step toward her this time, because she
seems scared. I dont want her to be scared.
Im scared.
I touch her shoulders and guide her so that shes standing
under the water. I dont press myself against her, even though I
need to. I keep distance between us.
I have to.
The only things that connect are our mouths. I kiss her softly,
barely touching her lips, but it hurts so bad. It hurts worse than
any other kiss weve shared. Kisses where our mouths collide.
Our teeth collide. Frantic kisses that are so rushed theyre
sloppy. Kisses that end with me biting her lip or her biting
mine.
None of those kisses hurt like this one does, and I cant tell
why this one is hurting so much.
I have to pull back. I tell her to give me a minute, and she nods,
then rests her cheek against my chest. I lean back against the
wall and pull her with me while I keep my eyes closed tightly.
The words are once again attempting to break the barrier
Ive built up around them. Every time Im with her, they want
to come out, but I work and work to cement the wall that
surrounds them. She doesnt need to hear them.
I dont need to say them.
But theyre pounding on the walls. They always pound so hard
until all our kisses end up like this. Me needing a minute and
her giving me one. They need out now worse than ever before.
They need air. Theyre demanding to be heard.
Theres only so much pounding I can take before the walls
collapse.
There are only so many times my lips can touch hers without
the words spilling over the walls, breaking through the cracks,
traveling up my chest until Im holding her face, looking into
her eyes, allowing them to tear down all the barriers that stand
between us and the inevitable heartbreak.
The words come anyway.
I cant see anything, I tell her.
I know she doesnt know what Im talking about. I dont want
to elaborate, but the words come anyway. Theyve taken over.
When you move to Michigan and I stay in San Fran? I dont
see anything after that. I used to see whatever future I wanted,
but now I dont see anything.
I kiss the tear thats running down her cheek.
I cant do this, I tell her. The only thing I want to see is
you, and if I cant have that … nothing else is even worth it.
You make it better, Rachel. Everything. I kiss her hard on the
mouth, and it doesnt hurt at all this time, now that the words
are free. I love you, I tell her, freeing myself completely.
I kiss her again, not even giving her the chance to respond.
I dont need to hear her say the words to me until shes ready,
and I dont want to hear her tell me that the way I feel is
wrong.
Her hands are on my back, tugging, pulling me closer. Her legs
are wrapping around mine like shes trying to embed herself
inside me.
She already has.
Its frantic again. Teeth-crashing, lip-biting, hurried, rushed,
panting, touching.
Shes moaning, and I can feel her trying to pull from my
mouth, but my hand is wrapped in her hair, and Im covering
her mouth desperately, hoping shell never break for breath.
She makes me release her.
I drop my forehead to hers, gasping in an effort to keep my
emotions from spilling over the edge.
Miles, she says breathlessly. Miles, I love you. Im so scared.
I dont want us to end.
You love me, Rachel.
I pull back and look her in the eyes.
Shes crying.
I dont want her to be scared. I tell her itll be okay. I tell her
well wait until we graduate, then well tell them. I tell her
theyll have to be okay with it. Once were out of the house,
everything will be different. Everything will be good. Theyll
have to understand.
I tell her weve got this.
She nods feverishly.
Weve got this, she responds back, agreeing with me.
I press my forehead to hers. Weve got this, Rachel, I tell her.
I cant quit you now. No way.
She takes my face between her palms, and she kisses me.
You fell in love with me, Rachel.
Her kiss removes a weight from my chest that is so heavy I feel
like Im floating. I feel like shes floating with me.
I turn her until her back is against the wall.
I bring her arms above her head and link my fingers through
hers, pressing her hands into the tile wall behind her.
We look into each others eyes … and we completely shatter
rule number two.
Chapter thirteen
TATE
Thanks for making me go, Miles says to Corbin. Aside from another hand injury and finding out you thought I was gay, I had a good time.
Corbin laughs and turns to unlock our door. Its not exactly my fault I assumed you were gay. You never talk about girls, and youve apparently left sex off your schedule for six years straight.
Corbin gets the door open and walks inside, toward his bedroom. I stand in the doorway, facing Miles.
Hes looking straight at me. Invading me. Its on the agenda now, he says with a smile.
Im an agenda now. I dont want to be an agenda. I want to be a plan. A map. I want to be on a map to his future.
But that breaks rule number two.
Miles backs into his apartment after opening his door, and he nods his head in the direction of his bedroom.
After he goes to sleep? he whispers.
Fine, Miles. You can stop begging. Ill be your agenda.
I nod before closing the door.
I shower and shave and brush my teeth and sing and put on just enough makeup to make it look like I didnt put on any makeup at all. And fix my hair to make it look like I didnt fix my hair at all. And put back on the same clothes I had on earlier so it doesnt look like I changed clothes at all. But really, I changed my bra and my underwear, because they didnt match before but now they do. And then I freak the hell out because Miles will see my bra and underwear tonight.
And possibly touch them.
If its part of his agenda, he might even be the one to remove them.
My phone receives a text, and the sound startles me, because a text isnt on the agenda at eleven oclock at night. The text is from an unrecognized number. All it says is:
Is he in his room yet?
Me: How do you have my number?
Miles: I stole it from Corbins phone while we were driving.
Theres a weird voice in my head, singing, Na-na-na-na boo-boo. He stole my number.
Im such a child.
Me: No, hes watching TV.
Miles: Good. I have to run an errand. Ill be back in twenty minutes. Leaving the apartment unlocked in case he goes to bed before then.
Who runs errands at eleven oclock at night?
Me: See ya.
I stare at my last text to him and cringe. It sounds way too casual. Im giving him the impression that I do this all the time. He probably thinks all my days go something like this:
Random guy: Tate, you want to have sex?
Me: Sure. Let me finish up with these two guys, and Ill be right over. By the way, I dont have any rules, so anything goes.
Random guy: Awesome.
Fifteen minutes pass, and the television finally switches off. As soon as the door to Corbins bedroom closes, mine opens. Im across the living room and slipping out the front door and then bumping into Miles, who is standing in the hallway.
Good timing, he says.
Hes holding a bag. He moves it to his other hand so its not as visible to me.
After you, Tate, he says, pushing open his door.
No, Miles. I follow. Thats how it is with us. Youre solid, Im liquid. You part the waters, Im your wake.
You thirsty? He walks toward his kitchen, but Im not sure if I can follow him this time. I dont know how to do this, and Im scared hell notice that Ive never had a rule number one or two before. If the past and the future are off limits, that only leaves the present, and I have no idea what to do in the present.
I walk to the kitchen in the present. What do you have? I ask him.
The bag is on the counter now, and he sees me eyeing it, so he pushes it aside, out of my view.
Tell me what you want, and Ill see if I have it, he says.
Orange juice.
He grins, then reaches toward the bag. He pulls out a container of orange juice, and the simple fact that he even thought about it is testament to his generosity. Its also testament that it doesnt take much to make me melt. I should tell him my one rule has just become Stop doing things that make me want to break your rules.
I take the orange juice from him with a smile. What else is in the bag?
He shrugs. Stuff.
He watches me open the juice. He watches me take a drink of the juice. He watches me put the lid back on the juice. He watches me set the juice on his kitchen counter, but he doesnt watch me closely enough to notice how fast I can lunge for the bag.
I grab it right before his arms wrap around my waist.
Hes laughing. Put it back, Tate.
I open it and look inside.
Condoms.
I laugh and toss it back onto the counter. When I turn around, his arms dont leave me. I really want to say something inappropriate or embarrassing, but I cant think of anything. Just pretend I did and laugh anyway.
He doesnt laugh, but his arms are still around me. Youre so weird, he says.
I dont care.
He smiles. This whole thing is weird.
Hes telling me how weird this is, but it feels pretty damn good to me. Im not sure if weird feels good or bad to him. Is weird good or bad?
Both, he says. Neither.
Youre weird, I tell him.
He grins. I dont care.
He moves his hands up my back, to my shoulders, and slowly down my arms until his hands are touching mine.
That reminds me.
I pull his hand between us. Hows your hand?
Fine, he says.
I should probably check it out tomorrow, I say.
I wont be here tomorrow. I leave in a few hours.
Two thoughts cross my mind. One, Im very disappointed hes leaving tonight. Two, Why am I here if hes leaving tonight?
Shouldnt you be asleep?
He shakes his head. I cant sleep now.
You didnt even try, I say. You cant fly a plane on no sleep, Miles.
The first flight is short. Besides, Im copilot. Ill sleep on the plane.
Sleep isnt on his agenda. Tate is.
Tate overrules sleep on his agenda.
I wonder what else Tate overrules?
So, I whisper as I drop his hand. I pause, because I dont have anything to follow the So. Nothing. Not even a la-ti-do.
Its quiet.
Its getting awkward.
So, he says. His fingers move through mine and spread them apart. My fingers like his fingers.