wrote me off, probably.
“But you’re doing business management next year?” Jason says.
“Yeah, I kind of have to.”
“Why do you have to?”
I shrug. “Because I’m not going to be a doctor.” Which is the Caribbean expectation. If you’re not a doctor, you’re a banker. So I’ve got to get that business or finance degree before I apply to banks because that’s the way it works.
“I get it,” he says. “I wanted to go to film school but my parents thought it would be nice to have a poli sci background. They think I could get a government job.”
All immigrant kids know that a government job is not as good as becoming a doctor, but it’s definitely as good as a banker so it’s still up there. I could see Jason doing it, too. But it doesn’t seem to be what he wants. He doesn’t sound bitter about this at all, just a little sad. “What kind of films would you make?”
“Horror, but not the gory kind. The kind that’s about what happens when real life goes wrong.”
Ha. When real life goes wrong? I could tell him some stories.
“There’s that look on your face,” he says, putting a finger on my forehead.
“What look?”
“That one right there. Every time we talk about something other than the gym, you close up.”
“No, I don’t.” I push his hand away.
“Yeah, you do. I asked about your dad last week, remember? I mean, he just died. I thought you’d want to talk about it. But you changed the subject.”
He’s right. “Because it’s been a bit crazy at my house lately. I found out my mom took out an insurance policy on my dad.” Damn. That just slipped out.
Jason sits back on his bed. “Is that weird?”
“Yeah, it is. She never told me she did, and then she tried to hide the information from me. Plus, she’s got this new boyfriend, right after Dad dies. She won’t even talk about how they met. It’s like everything is a secret all of a sudden.”
He goes quiet for a moment. “Sounds messed up.”
I really don’t want to talk about Dad anymore. But I like that Jason offered. Like I could talk if I wanted to—or was allowed to.
Jason is just there, across from me on his bed. I’m on the hard, narrow chair by his desk and noticing that he’s one of those guys that gets better looking the longer you look at him. I want him to kiss me and I guess he wants it too because the second I uncross my legs, he leans forward. His lips are on mine and before I know it, I’m under him and on his bed.
We fool around for a while. I think I’m going to feel like it’s enough soon, and I’ll get up and go. But truthfully, I dead-ass don’t get to the point where it’s enough.
“You alright?” he asks. Both our shirts are off. He doesn’t seem to mind that I’m wearing a regular sports bra. Whatevs, it’s clean.
“Yeah.” Still don’t want to go.
“Do you want to stop?”
I don’t even have to think about it. “No.”
Jason knows it’s my first time, so he’s really careful. I watch in fascination as he puts on a condom. When he tries to kiss below my belly button, I clench my thighs together so he can’t open me up, and I only relax when his mouth is back on mine. When he’s inside me and I feel…I don’t know where to start. I’m happy to feel him pressing against me.
I guess I never thought it was gonna be like this.
* * *
After.
The sex was okay, minus the O. Right away, almost immediately, he asked me if I came. I said yes, because he looked so eager. Then he fell asleep on top of me, so I wiggled out from under him, texted Noor and asked her what coming feels like. I probably could have waited but I felt like I needed to talk to someone. She said, Psshhtt. You would know it when it happens. Where r u? Want me to get Hassan to pick u up?
I’m good.
Jason wanted to tag along with me when I left, to at least see me partway home, but I was gone before he could get his clothes on. I kinda like riding the subway at night anyway. It’s empty, quiet.
He didn’t hurt you, did he? Noor manages to sound mad, even through a text.
No, I write back. It didn’t hurt, really. Definitely not more than that