Heart Bones(39)

“I did,” I say. “But I also didn’t.”

I find a comfort in his non-judgmental presence, and it’s confusing, because if I’m comfortable around him and I’m attracted to him, why did I start to panic when he was kissing me?

“Dakota took something you’re supposed to enjoy and he made you feel ashamed of it. It’s not like that for all girls. The girls I’ve been with—they enjoy it as much as I do. If they didn’t, I wouldn’t allow it to happen.”

“I enjoyed it a little bit,” I admit. “Just not the whole time. But that’s not your fault, obviously.”

“It isn’t yours, either,” he says. “And I won’t kiss you again. Not unless you ask me to.”

I don’t say anything. I don’t understand why that feels like both a punishment and a chivalrous gift.

He smiles gently. “Won’t kiss you, won’t hug you, won’t make you get back in the ocean.”

“My God, I’m just a ball of fun,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“You probably are. Hell, I might be, too. We just have too much piled on top of us to know what we’re like when we’re not under pressure.”

I nod in complete agreement. “Sara and Marcos are fun. But me and you? We’re just…depressing.”

Samson laughs. “Not depressing. We’re deep. There’s a difference.”

“If you say so.”

I don’t know how we possibly ended this night and this conversation with both of us smiling. But I’m afraid if I don’t walk away now, one of us will say something to ruin this moment. I back a step away from him. “See you tomorrow?”

His smile falters. “Yeah. Good night, Beyah.”

“Good night.”

I slip away from him, toward the stairs. Pepper Jack Cheese stands up and follows me down. When we reach the stilt level of my house, I spin around and look up at him. Samson hasn’t gone back inside yet. He’s leaning over the balcony, watching me. I walk backward a couple of feet, until I’m under the house and can’t see him anymore.

When he’s out of my line of sight, I stop walking and lean against a pillar. I close my eyes and run my hands down my face. There’s no way I can be around him all summer and not want to be consumed by him. But I also don’t want to be consumed by someone I’m just going to have to say goodbye to eventually.

I might feel invincible sometimes, but I’m not Wonder Woman.



Alana is awake and in the kitchen when I walk back into the house. She’s at the counter, leaning over a bowl of ice cream. She takes a spoon out of her mouth and smiles at me. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“What about Samson? Is he okay?”

I nod. “He’s fine. He said Dad doesn’t hit all that hard.”

Alana laughs. “I’m surprised your father hit him. I didn’t know he had it in him.” She points at her ice cream. “You want a bowl?”

Ice cream actually sounds like heaven right now. I need something to cool me down. “I’d love some.”

Alana pulls a bowl out of the cabinet and I take a seat at the bar. She takes ice cream out of the freezer and begins scooping it into the bowl. “I’m sorry if we embarrassed you earlier.”

“It’s okay.”

Alana pushes the bowl of ice cream across the counter. I take a bite and it’s so good, I want to groan. But I stay quiet and eat it like ice cream has always been something I had access to. In reality, we never had it at our house. I learned not to keep much frozen stuff because when the power gets cut due to lack of payment, cleaning out a freezer of melted and rotten food is never fun.

“Can I ask you something?” Alana says.

I nod but keep the spoon in my mouth. I’m nervous for whatever it is she’s going to ask me. I just hope she doesn’t ask me about my mother. Alana seems nice and I’m not sure I can lie to her, but I certainly don’t want to tell her the truth right now.

“Are you Catholic?”

That’s not what I was expecting her to ask. “No. Why?”

She flicks a hand toward the ceiling. “Saw the picture of Mother Teresa in your room.”

“Oh. No. It’s just…it’s more like a souvenir.”

She nods, and then says, “So you aren’t religiously opposed to birth control?”

There it is. I look away from her, down to my ice cream. “No. But I’m not currently taking it. I’m not…you know.”

“Sexually active?” She says it so casually.

“Yeah. Not anymore, anyway.”

“Well,” she says. “That’s good to hear. But if you think you might find yourself in a situation this summer where that might change, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared. I can make you an appointment.”

I take another bite of my ice cream to stall my response. She can probably see the flush in my cheeks.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Beyah.”

“I know,” I say. “I’m just not used to talking about things like this with people.”

Alana casually drops her spoon in her empty bowl and walks it to the sink. “Your mother never talks to you about this stuff?”