“Oh, they need you. I know you didn’t have the same kind of relationship with either of your parents that I did with mine. But I can tell you, as someone who had…has, parents that I felt close to, but who definitely weren’t perfect, you need them. You feel the lack of them when they’re gone. You don’t need to be perfect for her to need you. I’m personally experimenting with imperfection.”
“Yeah?”
“Have you talked to Will?”
“Oddly, sleeping with you made me feel not so keen to see what he was up to.”
“Yeah. You would think, though, that he…”
“I think he’s busy.”
“Is he just having like a second life as a frat boy?”
“Do you care?”
“I really don’t, actually.”
He smiled and stood up. He had dirty, greasy hands, and when he put them on her face, she didn’t even complain. When he leaned in and kissed her, she kissed him back, and it felt like coming home in a way going into that apartment hadn’t. She looked up at him, her gaze questioning, but he didn’t give her any answers.
“Come over tonight,” he said.
“Okay.” She looked back at the car. “You lied,” she said, feeling breathless.
“About?”
“This car has no back seat.”
“I didn’t think the question was about a literal back seat, but more about whether or not I was planning to satisfy you, and thoroughly, throughout the trip.”
“And that’s a yes?” she asked.
He lowered his head, his forehead pressed to hers. He saw her. She didn’t want to hide. “That’s a hell yes.”
“Good.”
“I’ll see you tonight.”
This was another change. Another shift. But she was still working out what it meant. Because now they weren’t even taking a break from each other. Now they were bringing each other into their life here.
They didn’t walk around in public like a couple. They didn’t go out to eat or anything like that. She slept alone maybe twice a week, but otherwise, they were at each other’s houses, and even if they slept separate, that didn’t mean they didn’t hook up at some point during the day.
The drive between them to be physical was intense, and it was something that she refused to minimize. It was clearly something she needed. Something she was hungry for. This passion. The way that he was with her. Like he was discovering sex for the first time all over again with her.
It meant something to her because she had only been with one other man. Her experience was limited.
It meant something that he felt the same way, because he’d been with quite a few women, and had experience with casual sex. Somehow, the blend of the two realities made her feel like it must be real.
If he could feel this with his experience, and she could feel it with her lack, well, that had to matter.
When it came time for them to head north, to take the car up over The Great Northern road and go on their final trip, they drove from his house to the garage together. And that felt significant. It felt real. But so did everything else. The clock was winding down, and she knew that she would have to make some decisions she didn’t necessarily want to.
But for just a little while longer, maybe she could just be lost in this. In him.
At first she’d been desperate for the summer to end, and now it felt like an execution date.
Except she wasn’t a prisoner. She was in charge of her own life. Of what she did with her time. So she supposed it was up to her to decide what to do next.
It was time to stop living in the present.
