Page 88 of On the Edge

“Okay,” he mutters to himself, wiping his hands down theapron and reaching for a wire. Fascinated, I watch as he removes the clay from the wheel. The steps are completed so quickly, it’s apparent he’s done them dozens of times before.

“What did you make?” I ask him. He shrugs.

“I guess just a bowl. I didn’t set out to make anything specific. The open studio thing was just a ploy to hang out with you and talk. I didn’t actually expect us to take the pottery part seriously.”

Chuckling, I look down at my filthy hands and back up to Atlas’ face, which is covered in the remnants as well. I really don’t want the evening to end here. I want to get him alone and make up for a summer’s worth of kissing. I want to fall asleep the way we’ve done a handful of times, breath mingling and skin touching.

“Do you want to come back to my place?” he asks carefully, picking at his fingernails nervously. “We could clean up and maybe hang out for a bit… Or not, it’s up to you.”

“Yes,” I answer swiftly. He could have suggested we find the nearest body of water to clean off that way, and I would have agreed. As long as we remain together, I am up for anything. “Yes, that sounds excellent. I shall drive, yes?”

26

Atlas

Hands shaking slightly,I clean up our station. Henri, despite the apron, has managed to get clay on both his pants and his polo shirt, as well as up his forearms. Not to mention, what I smeared all over his face and into his hair. I want to take him home, stand him in my shower, and clean off every inch. Then, I want to lay him out on my bed and cover the same ground with my mouth.

Pump the brakes, Atlas, you’ve only just started to figure things out, I think, trying to talk myself down.

Silently, we leave the building walking side by side. I don’t grab for his hand, still a little unsure about exactly where we are, and needing explicit words to explain what he needs.

“Henri,” I whisper, as he leads me across the lawn. It’s dark, and the campus mostly empty.

“Yes?”

“Can you tell me exactly what you want? Like, are we…” I trail off, leaving that sentence for him to finish. I have a feeling I know what he’s going to say, and the possibility leaves me a little queasy.You want this,I remind myself sternly.

“Well, I think that is maybe up to you. I have not made it a secret, what I want.”

“Together,” I fill in.

“Boyfriends,” he adds slowly, as though he’s testing the word to see if it can hold our weight.

“Okay,” I agree, fighting back the flash of nerves. “Okay.”

Henri, probably hearing the abject terror that one word holds, slides his hand into mine and squeezes my fingers. Once we’re seated in his car, I point him toward the exit we’ll need to take to go back to my place.

“Do you remember where it is?” I ask him, knowing he only came over a handful of times. Most of our time together was spent tucked away in his dorm.

“If you wouldn’t mind directing,” he requests, so I do.

Nate’s truck is the only one in the driveway when Henri pulls in. I can see the light from the television filtering through the front window as we walk up the step, and let ourselves in. Nate’s sprawled out on the couch, remote resting on his stomach and face turned toward the TV. He glances over at the sound of the door and breaks out into a wide smile. I don’t fool myself into believing it’s because he’s excited to see me.

“Vas!” he exclaims, proving my theory correct.

“Hello, my friend,” Henri greets him, inclining his head slightly. “How are you this evening?”

“Good, good. You guys kiss and make up?”

“Yes,” Henri says without hesitation. It shouldn’t be possible, but somehow Nate’s smile grows.

“We’re going upstairs,” I interrupt. Eyeing Henri’s dirtyclothes, I sigh. “Nate, you got any sweats that he could borrow that aren’t covered in clay?”

Nate looks like he might faint with happiness. Walking over, he slings an arm over Henri’s shoulders and pulls him into his side. “I wouldloveto lend you some clothes, Vas. Spending the night?”

“Stop. And no touching,” I snap, shoving his arm off of Henri. He merely laughs and gestures us to follow him as he walks up the stairs. We hover in the doorway as Nate fishes through his closet. He selects a few things, tossing them over his shoulder at Henri, who catches them easily.

“Thank you. I shall wash them and bring them to practice, yes?”

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