The You I've Never Known(55)

Last night, I lay in bed worrying. Not about the fact that we’d made love,

or even that I’d enjoyed it so much, but about how it might change the way we relate to each other.

Part of the attraction was not acting on it, and now that isn’t an option.

So what happens next

time we’re together?

Does having sex once

make it a requirement going forward? I don’t even know if that would be such a bad thing.

But I don’t want to feel trapped. Sex should be spontaneous, I think, not something expected.

And on the far end of all that, what if I’m the one who comes to expect it?





Look at Me


I’m a regular sex expert.

Not.

The thought is hilarious.

Totally.

I’ve barely done two positions.

Lame.

But then, I’ve done a girl and a guy.

True.

I should really stop thinking about this.

Duh.

It could become an obsession.

Maybe.

I’m going to see Gabe today.

Awesome.

I should hang out with Monica tomorrow.

Definitely.

Can we chill with no sex involved?

Only one way to find out.

What’s that?

Just say no.

But what fun is that?





Dad Still Isn’t Home


By midmorning, when Gabe picks me up.

I’m ready to go as soon as the GTO pulls in the driveway, and I meet him outside, denying any chance at a roll in the hay, as Dad likes to call it, at least when talking to me. Once I asked if he’d ever actually done it in the hay, because it sounded itchy.

He didn’t think the question was funny, coming from his daughter. I didn’t think the discussion was merited, coming from my dad, who was warning me against

rolling anywhere, anytime, with anybody.

I listened pretty well for quite a while, though once I understood the way of things, I thought him quite the hypocrite. I still do, but maybe now I can forgive him some.

Meanwhile, I hop into Gabe’s car, allow him to lean across the seat for a kiss hello.

It is sweet. Not demanding, or even requesting.

I’m a little relieved I don’t want to jump his bones.





At Least Not Right This Minute


As he backs out onto the road

I ask, “So, have you seen Dad

this morning? He survived

the eggnog, I take it?”

Yeah, but barely. He looked beat-up hungover.

“That doesn’t surprise me.

When he gets three sheets

to the squall, a nasty hangover is guaranteed. He deserves it.”

Yeah, he was pretty shitty yesterday. Sorry he did that.

“Not your fault. Don’t be sorry.

Besides, I’m used to it. Sort of.”

I’m tired of talking about Dad, and this conversation could go

somewhere I’d rather it didn’t.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

We bump along out toward

the highway, and it strikes me, “I should probably give you

some money for gas.”

He smiles. Do you have any money? No, I didn’t think so.

No worries. It’s okay. I planned to see you again, and besides, who wants to spend the day with your dad and Zelda?

That makes me laugh. “I get

your point. But you know,

I think you need a hobby.”

He grins. How about I make you my hobby? You, girl, are quite entertaining.

“Entertaining? I don’t think

anyone’s ever called me that

before. It’s a good thing, right?”

A very good thing. You’re funny.

And smart. Not only smart, but you know lots of stuff, and the two don’t always go together. In fact, I’ve wondered how you know as much as you do.

Didn’t you change schools a lot?

“Yeah, I did, and that was hard, especially as I got older. But

there’s something to be said for seeing a lot of the country and learning that way. Plus, someone invented these great things called books. I read all the time.”





I Don’t Add the Part


About swiping books.

Dad called it “borrowing,”

but what we did was steal

them, sometimes from

the people we were mooching

off of, and other times

from libraries. Either Dad

would scrounge a library card, or, if we stayed in one place long enough, he’d get one

of his own. Once in a while

those books would get returned, but more often they’d move on across the country when we

did. Then Dad would make

a game of removing any pages

with a name stamped on them

and dropping the well-read books into a return slot at a library in another town. Rotating books into their catalog can only be a good thing, right?

On some level, that was true, and it never struck me that

what we were doing was wrong

until I hit maybe fifth grade.

Books are definite necessities, says Gabe. I spend a fair amount of time reading myself, especially at Zelda’s. Either that or indulge in her steady diet of reality TV.