love seat.
We had to make out very quietly, for fear of waking people, and we vibrated together in the complete darkness, our hips grinding, my heart rising and falling, our lips brushing against each other endlessly, and when I tried to do more, he said, “No, no.”
“Is it because Mari’s here?” I whispered.
“No.”
“Then what?” A thought suddenly occurred to me: Perhaps this was just our goodbye. Maybe it was this and nothing else.
“It’s because sex isn’t that great,” he said. “And this right now is the best part.”
The words took me back to that moment at the picnic table, when I’d thought he was lovesick over Mari, and I’d given him all that heartfelt advice.
His face came down, but his lips didn’t touch mine; they only grazed my cheek and forehead.
“Holy shit,” I said.
The laugh came from deep in his throat, and he whispered, “Shh,” and we kept on touching lips to each other in slow, shimmery time, with our minds fading in and out of sleep, until the first light poked through the blinds.
“Is it morning?” I said.
We were pretzeled on the love seat. Over in the corner Mari was facedown, with an arm flung over her head.
“I need coffee.”
“Me too,” she called.
Dave mouthed the word “Yikes.” I wondered what she’d seen while we thought she was sleeping, and I was embarrassed, though we hadn’t done much more than kiss.
“Yeah . . . ,” I said. “Let’s, umm, let’s make some coffee.”
Carrie and Gabi emerged. Hen complained about the noise. My mom walked in, eyebrow raised, only to exclaim excitedly when she saw Dave in the living room.
“You’re here! You’re here! You’re all here!”
She was still hyped up from working her night shift, and she insisted on making breakfast. After breakfast, Hen and Mari and Carrie and Gabi all left, and my mom went to bed. Dave and I crawled into my room and collapsed from lack of sleep, only to wake up from a text from Avani.
Avani: Jesus Christ, last night was a shit show. Thanks for coming.
The weekend wasn’t over, of course. Pothan and Ken wanted to know what was up. I told them to drop in. Then I texted Hen to see what he was doing, but he had work to do.
Henry: Also, my head feels awful.
I texted Jessie.
Me: What’s up with Niko? How did that go?
Jessie: I might be in love.
Me: You want to come over?
She dropped by at the same time as Ken and Pothan, and Dave and I went out with them to a burger place in downtown Grenadine, where we made fun of Jessie for her ridiculous homecoming date while she beamed at everything and everyone. By then, Hen was free, and he dropped by. Pothan and Ken left to use their fake IDs to buy some pot from a store in San Jose, but we saw some T99ers we knew, and they dropped into our booth to talk shit on Avani’s party, while we in turn talked shit on homecoming.
Dave yawned. “I have to work on my Mars project.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
So I gave him a long hug and walked him to the door of the restaurant. When I came back to the booth. Jessie turned her eyes on me. “So are you two a thing again?”
“Almost definitely? Umm, I think so?”
“You sure?” she said.
“Sure. Of course. . . .” Then I thought for a second. “Wait a second. I have to go! But this was awesome—let’s hang out more!”
I ran up behind the unsuspecting Dave and came to a sudden stop next to him. “I’ll walk you home,” I said.
“You don’t have to.”
“Sure, but I’m gonna.”
I threw an arm around him, crushing him close. My whole brain was filled up with the multitudinous awesomenesses of Dave, and the only possible words to say were “I love you.”
He looked at me, and a slow smile crept across his face. “I know.”
“Really?” I said. “But . . . I didn’t know until now.”
“No, it’s a—it’s a Star Wars thing.”
“Oh.”
“Trust me, my friends are gonna be really happy when I tell them I said that.”
“So . . . do you love me too?”
“I do,” he said. “I love you so much.”
We walked hand in hand, repeating the phrase to each other, sounding like idiots, and when we stood on the gloomy, rain-choked patio, our kiss was very prolonged.
“I do have to study,” he said.
“Let me do it with you.”
“No,” he said. “No. But let’s talk soon.”
He waited on the threshold, with all his weight balanced on one foot. I ran a finger up the side of his coat and tugged once on his lapel. “Please?” I said. “I don’t know where I’m gonna go. You’re just gonna leave me out here, all alone, by myself, to miss you and pine over you and cry about you and be completely pathetic?”
“No. Absolutely . . .” He paused for a second. “No. No.”
I looked at him with puppy-dog eyes, and we hovered on the threshold for a solid sixty seconds, with him saying, “No, no, I’m serious, no, I’ll get zero work done,” until, with a snap of the eyes, I released him from my spell.
“All right, fine,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”
“Totally.”
The twin ends of his unknotted bow tie flapped loose around his neck as he took a step inside and, with a fleeting smile, closed the door.