“Of course. Like, probably not right away. But I have definitely washed it.”
Pieces of a puzzle that I’ve been staring at for a long time are starting to fall into place.
“There’s a crack in the wall in your room. Over by the closet.”
“I know,” he says, pulling his hair back into a ponytail then taking it out again.
“I’m guessing you drew the short straw?”
Van tips my chin up and looks me in the eye. “No, Jos. Got first pick.”
My mind is racing, so I sit on my bed. Van joins me a second later as the tears start to fall. Levi used to hate it when I cried and Dad would always say that people process emotion in different ways. Some yell, some shut down. I cry.
Van’s voice is gentle when he rubs my back. “Hey, Jos, what’s going on? Please don’t get upset. If I freaked you out, I’m sorry.”
I shake my head in response and my words come out in a rush as the day hits me all at once. “I’m crying because I think you missed me just as much as I missed you and we lost all this time and why would anyone listen to porn that loud and I don’treally think balls is a bad word, do you? I mean, you should never tell anyone to suck your balls. That part was wrong, but boundaries are a thing, right?”
Van hasn’t heard about my visit to The Principal’s Office yet. To his credit, he doesn’t run screaming from the room. He just holds me close. “Am I supposed to say yes? I feel like I should say yes. Wait…” he says, reaching for the bags he left on the counter. “My answers are: yes, boundaries are a thing, you should only tell someone to suck your balls under very specific circumstances, balls is a great word, porn volume falls under boundaries, and yeah, Jos. I missed you every bit as much as you missed me. And I hate the time we wasted, but I love that we’re not wasting it anymore. But if those are the wrong answers, it’s okay, because I brought you mozzarella sticks and oatmeal raisin cookies. They’re your favorites and you had a shit day. So, do you want a cookie?”
That’s how we end up eating cookies in my bed. They taste so good that I don’t even mind the crumbs. Well, that could also be because of the thing Van does with his tongue when I’m on top of him and my thighs bracket his face.
A stressful day turned into a very good night. That should make me happy, and it does. But it also makes me wonder if Van knows that tonight wasn’t an anomaly. Crazy things happen each week for me. This isn’t the last date I’ll have to cancel or postpone. Someone’s always going to need a ride home from school, or a late-night run to the store for project supplies. Or someone to vent to when friends are mean and life is unfair.
Van made everything better with his words and a bakery bag of cookies. But how long can that magic last? Won’t he soon be tired of cleaning up other people’s messes? He’ll want me to put him first, but that won’t always be possible. Thinking about the future stresses me out, and I’ve run out of tears to cry, at least for tonight. I let my eyes drift shut as I fall asleep in Van’s arms. I’mnot sure how long this spell will last, but I’m going to do my best to enjoy it while I can.
Less than twenty-four hours later, Van’s naked in my room again.
This time, though, he’s getting ready for a game, so I can ogle all I want, but I’ll have to wait a while to do anything about it. I’m meeting his mom for the first time tonight, and we’re all going out after Bainbridge beats Coleridge. It will be hours before we can have sexy fun times again, but I can’t stop myself from looking. And yes, all those worries about the future are still pacing around in my brain, but I’m ignoring them for now. I’m nervous enough about meeting Van’s mom, and I don’t need to add one more thing to panic about. That’s why I’m filling my head with lusty thoughts. It’s an excellent distraction technique.
“Like what you see, Jos?” he teases, flexing his muscles.
“You know I do, but don’t look at me like that. You have a game. We don’t have time.” I am resolute in my reasoning, until he starts talking again.
"Don’t we? All I need is five minutes," he says with confidence.
I’m unconvinced. “You need five minutes for sex?”
My boyfriend shakes his head. “I need five minutes to put my face between your legs and get your night off to a good start. If you want more than five minutes after I’ve made you come on my lips, I won’t deny you. But if all you have time for is an appetizer, Jos, I’m here for you.”
The arena is packed with students from BU and Coleridge. It’s only an hour away, so there’s almost as much black and orange in the stands as there is burgundy and silver.
“What section is she in?” Mel asks, scanning the crowd. “Is she blonde, too?”
“Van said she’s down a couple rows from the press box. And no, I think the Viking hotness comes from his dad’s side.”
Mel laughs at me, but when I walk toward the center section, she follows. “Thanks for doing this,” I say. She could be in our usual seats—yes, I’m that girl who has a seat at every one of her boyfriend’s home games—but she knows that meeting Van’s mom rates high on the anxiety scale, so she’s my emotional support bestie.
“Please,” she says, waving me off. “This is gonna be great. How could anyone not love you? Plus, no matter how crazy she is, no one can out-crazy Wendy Franconetti. Did you see my shirt tonight? It’s custom-made.”
I pause my pursuit of Van’s mom to take a look at Mel. She looks perfect as usual in her gray beanie, leggings, and boots. She lifts Will’s jersey just enough that I can see her tee underneath. In scrawly print and accented with sparkles, it reads:My boyfriend’s gonna kick your boyfriend’s ass.
“Wow. Hard to believe that’s one of a kind,” I deadpan.
“Oh, I never said that,” Mel tells me, laughing. “If Wendy has her way, I’m going to help her set up an Etsy shop over Christmas break.”
I’m picturing my best friend folding t-shirts with outrageous sayings on them and packing boxes with Will’s mom. That is way out of my comfort zone, but Mel will love it. I give thecrowd another scan and that’s when I see two women huddled together and pointing at me. I thought Van’s mom was coming solo? Maybe they’re pointing at something behind me? I turn and check, but no. Everyone else is seated or milling about.
“Oh, that’s got to be them, come on,” Mel takes hold of my arm and whisks me in the direction of the two ladies who are ten rows down from the press box. I don’t even have time to panic properly because in a matter of seconds, I’m standing in the aisle next to Van’s mom.
