If I Was Your Girl(50)

“Grant,” I said, turning to him, “this is wonderful. I don’t know what to say.”

“Yeah,” Grant said. I realized he was staring at me. “You make me feel that way a lot.” His lips parted as we stared at each other, and for a moment our eyes just danced back and forth and we breathed each other in.

He stepped forward and pressed his lips to mine. I closed my eyes and leaned into him, my fingertips grazing the lapels of his jacket as our mouths moved. I smiled and bit his lip as I undid the buttons on his jacket. He shrugged it off and broke our kiss to gingerly hang it over a tree branch.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just it’s the only suit I’ve got and I don’t wanna mess it up. It needs to last me at least until homecoming.”

I silently hooked a finger around his tie and pulled him to the tree trunk. He fussed at first, afraid the food might get cold, but I wasn’t hungry. I untied his tie, throwing it onto the same branch as his jacket. He placed his hand on my thigh. I put my hand against his chest and loved how hard his muscles were under his shirt, and especially how different our bodies were, how we were as different as two people could be but when he kissed me again our differences came together and we weren’t hard chest muscles or a soft thigh or breasts or beard shadow, we were just one thing exploring itself and shivering with the joy of it.

He reached under my skirt and I stiffened instinctively, still not used to that territory being safe. He looked up at me, eyes wide, and I slowly loosened back up. I nodded and we resumed our kiss as his fingers danced up my thigh and found the top of my leggings, which he slowly pulled down. We both looked at my legs as he unpeeled them. They were November pale, but long and shapely. Seeing him see them, I loved them even more. He ran his hand up my calf to the back of my knee and then up the back of my thigh and I gasped at the realization that touch could be like this. I thought of that poor girl pretending to be a boy who tried to kill herself and I wanted her to see this, to feel this, so she could understand that one day she might not just be okay with her body but that she would be able to feel things, beautiful things, inside of it.

He kissed the nape of my neck and I unbuttoned his shirt and slid it down his arms. His body was so lean and strong and real, not the body of a model or a movie star or even really an athlete, but a body with muscles built from long, tiring labor. I lifted my sweater over my head and I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t afraid. We stared at each other for a moment and came to a silent decision. I stood and wiggled out of my skirt while he sat forward and shucked his pants. We looked at each other again, and my breath caught in my chest.

I bit my lip and unclasped my bra and let it fall to the floor. His eyes were so wide I could see my reflection in them, and the girl in those mirrors was smiling and she was beautiful. He took me by the arms and pulled me back down. I giggled and ran my fingers down his stomach as he crawled on top of me.

He kissed me again and I wrapped my arms around him. His fingers ran down my side, tickling me, and it took every ounce of willpower not to giggle and squirm, and from there they passed over my hip bone and down farther still. I didn’t stop him but I breathed in sharply and stiffened. His eyes snapped open and he raised himself off me, his eyes wide with concern.

“Is this your first time?” he asked. When I looked away, he touched my cheek, turning my gaze back to his. “Of course it’s your first time. You said I was your first kiss. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said, biting my lip. I knew where I wanted to go with Grant tonight, but now that we were here, I was scared.

“Okay.” He rolled onto his side and rested his hand on my cheek. “Do you wanna slow down?”

“Yeah,” I said, grateful that he knew, and understood. “This is really wonderful, but yeah.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “That’s so absolutely fine.” He rolled onto his back. We laced our fingers together and watched the sky fade from orange to purple to black, just feeling each other’s warmth and listening to each other’s breathing.

“I’ve been thinking about the future,” Grant said. I turned to look at him. He was still staring up at the dome of stars above us. “I can’t get into NYU or anything, but I talked to the guidance counselor and she said if I get my grades up I could get some grants and go to college in state. I might be able to go to community college without even takin’ out any loans.”

“Wow,” I said, snuggling up next to him and resting a hand over his heart. It was beating so fast. I didn’t ask what he was going to do about his family—I wanted him to only think about himself, for once.

“And I was thinkin’,” he said, turning now to look at me. Our noses pressed together and I unfocused my eyes. “I could use some of my financial aid and get a computer, and when you’re in New York we could Skype each other.”

“Maybe you could come up and visit,” I said.

“Maybe,” Grant said. “That’d be nice.”

“And maybe,” I said, bringing my lips centimeters from his and letting my eyelids droop, “once you’ve gotten all A’s down here, you could transfer to my school and get an apartment with me.”

“For now though,” he said, pulling me tight to him and sneaking a quick kiss, “this is just fine.”

I nodded. But my mind was already racing ahead, imagining a future I had scarcely allowed myself to consider. I thought of Grant holding my hand as we walked down a New York City street, of lounging on a blanket in Central Park, reading for class as he napped peacefully beside me. I knew we were only just beginning, but I couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to be with him until the end.