Page 19 of Plunge

We’d stay up all night before he left for college, packing up his bags and sleeping together just once more. For closure. It was supposed to be our mature and sophisticated farewell.

He doesn’t say anything for a long time and I wonder if he even heard me. If he’s still angry.

“You staying over,” he asks. I definitely hadn’t planned on it, but now that I’m here with my cheeks on fire and heat pooling between my legs, I’m not so sure. I feel drunk, but I’ve only had half a drink. I know it’s the intensity of seeing him.

I shrug.

“Tell me something,” he says, taking a long swallow of beer.

“What?”

His eyes bore into mine. “You ever get to see Paris like you wanted?” When I nod, he says, “Good,” and then stands like he’s going to leave.

“Wait,” I say, grabbing my coat and following him. I have no idea what I’m doing, but now that I’ve seen him I don’t want to just let him slip away again. Which is ridiculous because we’re both presumably heading back to a small town where I know just how to reach him.

He pauses and I duck into my coat. “Let me come with you,” I say, and he nods.

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