Page 42 of The Stars in the Sky
I told her, vaguely, that we had a good time and he wanted to date me. It seemed like she wanted to ask more but she didn't. We chatted about their weekends and then I left, needing some time to think. Since I usually fed off of the interactions with others, this was unusual, but I needed to think about what I was doing with Will.
It was just sex, right? We were so sexually compatible. He turned me on and I apparently turned him on. He was hot and seemingly constantly aroused. It was fun to be with him. It was fun to have sex with him. But we'd never be together, together, because we were too different.
And that was it.
Maybe.
Fuck.
What Amelia had said made me think. Having more than just sex with Will? I didn't know about that. I didn't know if I could show him all of me. I mean, while I was the type to organize a party, cheer up a friend, or start a Kickstarter project to get rid of the garbage patch in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, I didn't usually open up to people, especially guys. I think it had to do with how I grew up, moving around all the time, always moving onto the next person. If you got too close to someone, it hurt, because you had to say goodbye and maybe you'd never see them again. So it was safe to be friendly and have fun, but not fall very deep.
I’d dated all kinds of guys, but had been in very few relationships and the ones that I’d been in didn't last long. I never really let them know what I felt, but rather hid it under my party exterior.
Will seemed to dodge my image as a party girl and go right for themeunderneath. He just decided that he liked me and that was it. His actions, after yelling at me when I bumped into him naked that first day, were all caring—taking me to Andersen's for vegan split pea soup, cleaning me up before sex, immediately introducing me to his mother when I complained about not having met her.
Why did I complain about not having met his parents if it was just sex?
So it boiled down to the fact that he was so vehemently anti-politically correct, while I, essentially, was politically correct in every possible way. And while this may seem like a stupid thing to worry about, because these beliefs were so central to both of us, it mattered at a basic level. I wanted to be tolerant of others, but I thought of his politics as that of the intolerant. How can you be tolerant of the intolerant?
I mean, you want people to agree with you. At least about the important stuff.
Right?
Fuck.
I didn't know what to think anymore. It was a lot simpler when I’d just decided to jump Will's bones and be done with it. Now that there was this possibility of more, I was scared.
Wanting to escape my thoughts, I wandered over to the barn and the corral to see what the wranglers were doing. Although I officially had the weekend off and could do whatever I wanted, I loved hanging around the horses.
Jimmy, the old wrangler, and Hector, the young wrangler were mucking out the corral, a daily activity. I grabbed a rake and helped them and they looked at me gratefully.
"Enjoying Headlands?" asked Jimmy, a guru with a drawl.
"I love it here. It's so beautiful and I love the work that the Program does for kids. I met Will's mom and dad and I am so glad that they opened the facility for others."
Jimmy paused for a moment in his mucking and turned and looked at me.
"Will likes you," he said.
"I don't know about that," I said, trying to be modest.
"I've known him since he was born. Never seen him take a woman to meet his parents."
Really?
"His parents are so nice."
Jimmy nodded.
"I just wish they wouldn't watch Fox News all the time," I said.
"They are the last of the old-fashioned California Republicans. Not this new stuff. Old style. Don't raise their taxes or tell 'em what to do on their land."
I raised an eyebrow. That was interesting. I’d assumed that his parents were the Fox News ultra-conservative.
Maybe I needed to just talk to them.
WasIbeing intolerant ofthem?
Hector came by with fresh hay after we had mucked out the corral and the stalls, and we fed the horses and made sure they had fresh water.
A fresh start.
And then it was time to get cleaned up for dinner.
In the chow hall, I sat next to Will, his leg pressed up against me again. He smelled clean and had just taken a shower. After dinner, he asked me to spend the night but I told him no because I wanted to stay in my bunk. I needed the space.
But in the middle of the night, after tossing and turning in my bottom bunk, I snuck out of the bunkhouse and knocked on Will's door in my jammies. He let me in and I tumbled into his arms. He kissed me deeply, took me upstairs to his room, and kept me awake for a while. I eventually fell asleep in his strong arms, tucked into him, under his quilt, in his whitewashed room, in his old-fashioned farmhouse that was starting to feel like home, and I slept very well.
