Page 36 of On the Edge

“I don’t do serious relationships, or virgins. Or Germans.”

He barks a startled laugh and grins at me. I don’t grinback, even though I want to. Even though I can feel it fighting to be free. Picking up my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder, I glance back at him. He hasn’t moved from the spot where I kissed him, as though the bottom of his feet sprouted roots.You need to leave, I tell myself, as I open my mouth to find another reason to stay.

“Feel free to tell me to fuck right off if you don’t want to answer this, but…are you ace?” When he just stares at me, I clarify. “Asexual.”

“Oh.” He pauses to think, and I wait patiently for once. I actually sort of appreciate that he doesn’t just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. I know his answer, whatever it is, will be sincere and well thought out. “Yes, I think I might be. I do not know how I would be sure.”

I point over at his daily schedule, pinned to the wall.

“I’d say scheduling a time to jerk off is a pretty clear indicator.”

Another chuckle, low and sexy in the dark room.

“I made a mistake in leaving that up, yes?” he asks, looking amused.

“Oh, yeah. I’m going to make fun of you for that all year.”

He doesn’t look annoyed. If anything he looks a little pleased. Half of his mouth is pulled up into a smirk and his eyes shine in the lamplight.

“I have never wanted to touch anyone like that, and I do not know that I would enjoy someone touching me,” he admits quietly. “But I should like to try. I think, perhaps, it might depend on the person.”

“Yeah,” I agree, even though the person doesn’t really matter much to me. I could sleep with anyone at all. The act means nothing to me. I don’t have it in me to do the feelings part.

“I enjoyed kissing you,” he adds, almost as an afterthought. “I wanted to.”

I enjoyed it, too,I think, surprised at myself. I really shouldn’t have enjoyed it. It was, as far as kisses go, one of the worst. And yet, if he asked me to, I’d drop my backpack on the floor and dive right back in for more.

Clearing my throat roughly, I turn to the door. “I’ll see you in class, Henri.”

“Goodnight, Atlas,” he murmurs as the door closes behind me.

11

Henri

Max is uncomfortable.He is fidgeting, fingers twisting together in his lap and lip caught between his teeth. He has not said a single word beyond thanking me for the ride. Pulling up to a stoplight, I keep my eyes on the light and try to reach him.

“It is nice for Coach Mackenzie and Coach Lawson to invite us over, yes?”

“Yeah,” Max murmurs.

“Are you wishing you could have invited Luke?” I glance over at him before focusing back on the road. His face is turned toward me, and he’s chewing his bottom lip so hard I worry he’ll break the skin. “I am sure Coach Mackenzie would not have minded.”

“A little bit, yeah. I uhm…actually, Vas, could you pull over for a second?”

Surprised, I sit forward and peer through the windshield. There is a gas station coming up. Putting my blinker on, I pullinto the lot and put the car in park. Reaching for my wallet, I pull out some cash.

“Are you not feeling well? I will go inside and get you some water.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m fine. I just wanted to talk to you for a second?” He sounds so unsure, a tilt to each word as though he’s questioning everything that comes out of his mouth.

“Of course, Max.” Turning to face him, I settle my features into blandness and just wait. Silence, I have found, is the best way to get people to talk. Americans are very uncomfortable with silence, and will rush to fill it. Max closes his eyes and takes a deliberate, deep inhale.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist since the start of the year, and one thing Dr. K wants me to do is open up to my friends. He says I have trust issues and that the way to conquer those fears is by…well, by trusting people. And I trust you. I trust you more than anyone else other than Luke and Coach Mackenzie. You’re a really good friend to me.”

I stare at him, nervous now as to the nature of this conversation. Max looks pained, like each word is a fishhook in his throat.

“You do not have to tell me anything you do not wish to share, Max,” I tell him quietly, hating to see him so upset.

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