Page 106 of Saving Sparrow
I helped him tonight, and while I couldn’t put a finger on exactly how, I knew he was different because of it.Iwas different because of it.
He shifted on his feet, gaze flitting everywhere but me. He seemed unsure of what to do or say, unsure of how he should act, of how he should treat me. In the end, he said something I knew he’d never said before, because there hadn’t been anyone in his life the words could’ve applied to.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
I smiled back, stepping closer. “You never have to thank me for doing right by you, Sparrow.”
Elliott
Then
Quentin and I ran into the house, sweaty from the two-man flag football game we’d just played in the backyard.
“I let you win,” he panted, tossing me a bottle of water from the fridge.
“You did not,” I scoffed, knowing he absolutely did. I hadn’t made it easy for him, though.
I used the hem of my T-shirt to dry my face, letting it drop back into place when Quentin gave me a weird look. “What?” I asked, feeling self-conscious.
“Nothing.” He shook his head like he was trying to clear it. He’d been looking at my stomach, and now I wondered if the four-pack I’d developed wasn’t so cool after all.
“Maybe I can lift weights with you later,” I said, hoping to work my way up to a six-pack eventually, like his.
“Yeah, maybe.” He didn’t sound excited about the idea. “Why didn’t you come back last night?”
“Why didn’t you hunt me down like you promised?”
Quentin dropped his gaze to his bottle of water. “We were busy. Lost track of time. I was on my way to get you this morning.”
But I was already here, beating him to it. “Busy having sex?” I asked. “Too busy having sex to remember me?”
“No,” he said abruptly, his eyes meeting mine. “It wasn’t like that.”
“I know,” I whispered, because I hated the guilty look on his face. Hated that I’d put it there.
The truth was, I did come back last night, but he and Miguel were too “busy” to notice. I’d slept in the room across the hall, waking up first, pretending I’d just walked in when Quentin came barreling into the hall.
He set his water on the island, coming up behind me to fix my braid. It had come partially loose when he broke the rules and tackled me. My heartbeat quickened the moment he forced me to the grass, and it had nothing to do with the rush from the game. Something had changed inside of me, and even now it was hard to have him this close to me. Not because I hated it, but because I loved it in a way I shouldn’t, different from how I’d loved his nearness before.
“What did you do last night?” he asked, his breath warm against my neck.
Should I have told him the truth? Should I have admitted to tearing through the woods so I could touch myself without them knowing? We were friends, and there was a time when I would have told him that—I think—if I’d started doing itbeforemy feelings changed.
“Studied mostly.” I’d done my best to seem casual while we spoke about sex. Again, we were friends, and who better to ask about the things that were on my mind constantly? It wasn’t like I had anyone else I could’ve gone to.
In the beginning, watching them had been about validation, a reminder that I was good whenever the voice in my head said otherwise. It had been about getting comfortable with the thing that had only ever caused me shame. It hadn’t been about wanting it for myself or wanting them in that way. At least not before. And whenever I did get hard, I’d just concentrate on making it go away.
But the more comfortable, validated, and unashamed I became in my heart and mind, the more other parts of me started to want things, and the harder it became to wish those wants away.
I still remembered the moment something changed in me. The night we went to Darren’s party after the game. It wasn’t unusual to see Miguel dance. There wasn’t a song he wouldn’t sway to, no beat he wouldn’t pump his hips to. He’d done it that night to make Quentin jealous, I knew that, but the way he’d moved affected me in a way it hadn’t before.
Instead of seeing him dancing, I imagined him moving on top of Quentin. I pictured the way he moaned, the way he cried for Quentin tostop while spreading his legs wider. For the first time,Iwanted to know what that felt like. I wanted to know whattheywould feel like inside of me. It was all I could think about after that.
Inside of me…
Inside of me…
Inside of me…
