The Girl He Used to Know(53)
“Tina said I’m probably on the autism spectrum. High functioning, but still. I can get tested to find out for sure, but why? It’s not going to change anything.”
“I really don’t know what it would accomplish. Did she say what you might gain?”
“She said it might help me find peace.”
“Then I think you should do it.”
She hesitates. “What if it turns out that after going through the evaluation, I find out I’m not on the spectrum. That I really am just weird. I don’t know if I can handle that.”
“You’re not weird.”
“C’mon, Jonathan. All my life, I’ve been the poster girl for weird. It’s not that people like me don’t know how other people see us. But to us, you’re the ones who are weird, and we’re the ones who have to change if we want to fit in.”
“You’ve overcome a lot of hardships to get where you are today. The bullying. The people who tried to take advantage of you. It’s heartbreaking knowing that people treat others so horribly.”
“I don’t want you to be with me because you feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you. I admire you. It takes incredible strength to do what you’ve done, and you deserve every bit of happiness that comes your way.”
“It’s hereditary.” She says it quietly.
“I’ve known that since the day you introduced me to your dad.”
“You’ll regret it. A lifetime with me. A family with me. You’ll get more than you bargained for the same way my mom did.”
It’s possibly the most intuitive thing she’s ever said to me. Annika may struggle to identify what I’m feeling, to empathize, but she is quite capable of understanding what it means.
“The only thing I’ll regret is passing up another opportunity to find out if we have what it takes to go the distance. I thought we were going to build a life together after college, but you changed your mind. Don’t you think it’s time we talked about it? Because if you’re going to avoid the hard stuff, no matter how unpleasant the memories, I’m not sure how we’re going to do this. And I want to do this. Very much. Do you?”
She nods. “I know I didn’t handle it the right way, but I was just so devastated.”
“I know. I was, too.” I pull her closer and press my forehead against hers the way I used to all those years ago. Our eyes are closed and we stay that way until her breathing slows and I feel her exhale in a sigh of relief. “But come on. It’s me, Annika.”
“It’s always been you,” she says as she presses her lips to mine.
We can talk later. We will talk later. But right now there’s only one thing I want to do. I’ve been waiting for ten years and I can’t wait any longer.
We open our mouths and kiss for real. The kisses are the kind of kisses you don’t exchange in public, and there’s a rawness to them that wasn’t there in college. Back then, everything I did in regard to Annika was conducted with care and caution, as if she were made of glass and might shatter. She’s stronger now. She might not think so, but she is. I can see her strength in so many ways. I can feel it as her hands grip my arms.
We shift so that we’re lying down. The small couch isn’t ideal for any kind of sexual gymnastics, but that doesn’t slow us down in the least. I inhale and take hit after hit of her scent, burying my face in her neck while I kiss it. The kissing turns to sucking and Annika arches her back when I remove her shirt and bra. I skim my thumbs across her nipples with a firm touch and she groans. Her full skirt has an elastic waist, so it’s easy to strip her of it in one quick motion. Ditto her underwear. I’ll have to make this couch work, because now that she’s naked, I don’t want to stop even for a minute. There is a total absence of shyness as Annika spreads her legs, and I smile, not just because of the view but because this is the girl I remember. I love the way she opens herself up to me so completely. When we were younger it took a while for us to reach the place where she felt comfortable enough to let go, but once she did, it made me feel like she trusted me more than anyone in the world. Rightly so, because I would never give her a reason to think otherwise.
Annika attempts to undress me without breaking contact with my mouth and within the confines of a surface that is shorter than our outstretched bodies. It’s comical. She soldiers on because she’s as determined to make this couch work as I am. She wraps her hand around me and I smile again because she hasn’t forgotten the way I like to be touched, either.
Feeling around on the floor, I fish my wallet out of the pocket of my jeans. I could ask Annika if she’s on birth control, but I’d use the condom anyway, and not just in the name of safe sex. If anyone would understand my reasoning, it’s Annika.
There’s really only one position that’s going to work, and when I sit up and reach for her, she climbs on top as if she’s read my mind, one thigh pressed up on either side of me as she lowers herself so quickly I groan, but not because it hurts.
I let out a breathless laugh. “And you claim you never know what I’m thinking.” She laughs, too, but our laughter fades away, replaced with whispered words from me about how good she feels and how long it’s been and how much I’ve missed her.