The Black Coats(27)
“Yes, Harry. I brought a girl. Try not to be so shocked.”
Harry looked Thea up and down as Thea braced herself for the worst. More common than it should have been, the older generation down here sometimes had a terrible reaction to mixed-race couples. Remnants of racism tended to float through supposedly liberal Austin like dust in the air of an empty house.
Harry paused, his eyes tracing Thea’s features before his face exploded into an ecstatic grin. “And she’s a lovely one! Together, you will make beautiful babies!”
Drew winced. “Oh my God, Harry, stop.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I had to say it. Come on in.”
Thea ducked under Drew’s arm and into the tight corners of the cluttered, musty shop. The lighting was dim, and she had to squint to see the corners of the room.
“Well, I’ll let Drew give you the tour. God knows he spends enough time here, sadly waiting for his father to come home from saving the world, the poor kid.”
Drew rolled his eyes. “Okay, that’s enough of that conversation. Maybe next we can talk about my awkward moments during puberty.” He turned back to Thea. “Now, shall we?”
Thea grinned. “Please.” She was dying to see what was in here.
Drew lowered his voice and leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear. “Welcome to the weirdest shit you’ve ever seen.”
The museum itself was just two floors, not much larger than one of Thea’s classrooms; still, there were oddities crammed into every available space. Thea and Drew’s casual banter fell away as they both succumbed to piqued curiosity. Hanging skeletons, their jaws hinged open, seemed to laugh at the pair as they slowly made their way through the peculiarium. There were the skulls of nomads and balls of bright wax carved to look like miniature brains, as well as a book covered in skin that Thea knew she would see in her nightmares. Not everything was macabre; in one corner alone there were old bottles filled with antique potions promising remedies for “the lady’s monthly madness,” a collection of large insects forever preserved in glass jars filled with resin, and a torturous-looking device used for childbirth in the 1830s. Each shelf promised weird and fascinating discoveries, and Thea lost herself in the strange items, her reflection distorted in a large glass pane that protected a two-headed taxidermic calf. The ceiling was covered with hanging black butterflies, each one pinned so that they looked menacingly down upon the guests.
“How have I never heard about this place?” Thea wondered aloud, watching the butterflies spin lazily in the air-conditioning.
Drew shrugged as he ran his fingers over a large banana sculpture with an alien erupting out of the center. “It’s not really a place they tell tourists to visit. The neighborhood has gone to hell, but Harry has stayed. When he goes, all the stuff will go, too.” His face fell, and he ran his foot over the floor. “Although, I’m personally hoping that I get the lobotomy set with matching skull.”
She looked over and drank him in: hands shoved deep in his pockets, green eyes lingering on the aluminum spaceship that dangled overhead. She felt propelled toward him, as if he had a gravitational pull all his own. She wanted to be close to him. She wanted to lose herself in this funny ray of sunshine who also smelled really good.
“Thea, wait until you see—” He stopped talking when he felt her hands on his face and gently turned it to hers. Mopey hall-ghost Thea Soloman would have never done this before, not even before Natalie. But something about being in the Black Coats was making her bolder. Why shouldn’t I kiss him when I want to? Why wait for him when this is what I want?
He paused for a moment before clenching his hands around her waist. He bent down, pressing his mouth hungrily over hers. Light exploded in her vision. His lips were soft, and his mouth tasted of mint. His thumbs softly caressed her cheekbones, his tongue teasing across her bottom lip. Everything faded from her recent memory: the Black Coats, Natalie, her parents, this weird museum. There was only Drew and the way his strong body pressed against hers, the way his hair was falling over her forehead.
His kiss was gentle but wanting, and she could tell he was losing himself in the same way she was. His breath was warm as it passed over her mouth. Thea let her hands crawl up the back of his shirt, the cotton fabric starched and rigid. Drew pulled back before diving in to kiss her again, more passionately this time, this one unafraid. She lost track of time. There was only his mouth on hers, happiness glowing out from every pore. She hadn’t felt this way in so long, if ever. Finally, he pulled back with a gasp. Thea looked up at him and started laughing. His glasses were fogged up. Drew let out a long breath, his hands tangling up in her hair, his lips moving from her mouth to her cheek to her neck. He moaned. “Wow. Okay. That was amazing.”
He pulled her into a hug and Thea buried herself in the crook of his hard shoulder, suddenly embarrassed at her boldness. “Sorry. I should have . . .” I should have let you kiss me first.
“No. Somehow that was just perfect.” He grinned. “Also, we had an audience.” Thea turned. On the shelf in front of her, a terrifying doll peered out at them from a wooden bed.
“Oh. That’s kind of awkward.” Thea grimaced.
Drew reached out with a laugh and spun the clown around to face the other way. “We probably made his day.” Slowly, Drew pushed her hair back from her face, his eyes never leaving hers.