Page 197 of I Can't Even Think Straight

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and when he replies it’s not what I expect.

“Who gives the best advice,” he asks,

“me or the school counselor?”

“You,” I say,

and it’s true.

I grin at him.

“You give the best everything.”

Matt smiles back at me:

I’m confident

he catches my meaning.

We’re not virgins anymore.

With one end in each hand,

I grasp the long red strip of fabric and toss it,

making a loop around

his broad back and shoulders.

My arms complete the loop.

With one end in each hand,

I use the fabric to pull Matt toward me.

We’re nose to nose,

almost kissing, like

boxers at a weigh-in.

Matt leans back and the loop becomes taut.

“You’re not getting

another kiss from me

until you can wrap

your hands properly.”

I release my grip

on both ends of the fabric,

and expect Matt to fall

backward onto the bed.

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