Page 73 of Saving Sparrow
Miguel’s eyes were his most captivating feature, but the way his body moved beneath Quentin’s was what stole my attention tonight. He loved to dance, and what he and Quentin were doing was a type of dance. His hips rolled and his back arched in a way that made me swallow. I could see why Quentin refused to call it a night. Miguel was breathtaking. They both were.
It went on for hours, and by the time they’d showered—leaving me to come down from the adrenaline rush—I’d fallenasleep. I woke to Quentin taking my shoes off, and Miguel holding out my favorite nightgown. They turned away for a moment, giving me privacy to slip out of my jeans and T-shirt. I almost moaned when the silk slithered over my skin.
“Done.” My voice was deep, weighed down by exhaustion. Quentin scooped me up, crossing to the bed before laying me down on the clean sheets. I scooted to the middle, and he pressed up against my back.
Miguel settled onto his side in front of me, kissing my forehead before backing away a little so he could see me. I traced a finger over his puffy lips, then over one of the bruises Quentin had sucked onto his neck. An involuntary shudder went through me, causing Miguel’s eyes to fill with worry.
“You okay?” Quentin asked, his arm around my waist squeezing me tighter.
“Yeah,” I lied, closing my eyes. “I’m okay.”
Quentin rolled me onto my back, both he and Miguel now hovering over me.
“What’s wrong, Ellie? You’re shaking.” Miguel’s tone matched his panicked expression. “Did we do something wrong?”
“No, no. It’s not that,” I promised, assuming he thought he and Quentin had traumatized me. They weren’t the ones responsible for my trauma.
They stared down at me, waiting, a low rumble building in Quentin’s chest. I placed my palm there, feeling his heart beating frantically. I waited for it to calm, waited for my touch to soothe him before speaking again.
“Do you believe in God?” I whispered. I hadn’t singled anyone out with my question, but Miguel answered anyway.
“I… I don’t know.”
I’d never asked them that before, maybe because I struggled with the answer myself. I screwed my eyes shut, tears trickling past my temples and soaking into my hair.
“Hey, it’s just us here,” Miguel said, laying a hand across my cheek. “Just the three of us, the only people who matter.”
Nothing else mattered because we hadus.Nothing could hurt us as long as we had each other. Quentin squeezed in closer beside me, his body a wall of protection.
I swallowed, finding the courage to confess. “I knew a boy named Gideon once. We kissed, and that kiss ruined everything.”
“What do you mean it ruined everything?” Quentin asked, but I couldn’t answer that. I shook my head. His lips thinned, but he didn’t push. They’d promised never to ask me about “before,” and even though I was the one bringing it up now, he kept his word.
“I thought it was wrong,” I rasped, searching his face through my blurry gaze. Miguel continued to stroke my hair. “I thought kissing him was wrong.”
“And do you still think it’s wrong?” Quentin asked me that earlier. I hadn’t answered him then. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. I thought about the love I saw between them during the hours they’d had sex in this bed, thought about the way Quentin cared for Miguel after, thought about the way they both now cared for me.
“No,” I whispered, finally sure about what I believed in. “I don’t think it was wrong.”
Miguel dried my tears and kissed my cheeks while Quentin told me he was proud of me.
“And if anyone ever makes you feel differently, you tell them to come see me, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed, letting him manhandle me into a hug.
We situated ourselves into our usual sleeping positions once more. Quentin’s warmth left my back for a second while he turned his lamp off, then we were surrounded by darkness, but I felt nothing but light around me.
I sighed, closing my eyes and drifting to sleep. I didn’t say my prayers that night or any night after.
Elliott
Then
We skipped school the next day. Besides being too tired to get up when Miguel’s alarm went off, I wasn’t ready to go back yet. Miguel suggested we go down to the lake where he and Quentin had camped out a few times. We packed a cooler with sandwiches and drinks, then spent the next hour with the wind in our hair and Quentin’s favorite rap album blaring through the speakers as we cruised down the mountain pass.
Things were different between us. The smile Miguel gave me when we woke up was brighter than all his smiles before, and when Quentin snuggled in closer and whispered,“I’m glad your crazy aunt chose to move here,”a single word popped into my head that had never showed up there before.Family.They were more than my friends now; they were my family.
They’d given me hope, something I’d never had before. I also felt more confident and liked—maybe even loved—for the first time ever. There was nothing wrong with me. There never had been. I wouldn’t be burning in the pits of hell, and maybe the devil didn’t live inside of me.
