Page 78 of Like a Love Story
“And you’re pretty,” I say.
“Um, thanks?” he says, imitating me.
“Why are you friends with Darryl Lorde?” I ask. “Why do you stand around while he says such awful things?”
Saadi shrugs. “Who else am I supposed to be friends with?”
“There are other choices,” I say. “You could be friends with me.”
“As long as I wash my hands obsessively,” he says.
“Not obsessively, just regularly,” I say. “Also, as long as you stop being homophobic.”
“You know, we can’t all change the world, right?” he says. “Some of us just go along with things the way they are.”
“I get it,” I say. “I’m sure a lot of old Germans say the exact same thing.”
He laughs. “Did you just compare me to a Nazi?”
“IfDas Bootfits,” I say.
To my surprise, he laughs again. “Is it weird that the more you dislike me, the more I want to kiss you?” he asks.
“Um, I don’t know,” I say. “Do you go to therapy?”
He pulls me into a kiss. I explore his mouth with mytongue, feel every crevice of his body with my hands. The coarseness of his skin, the fuzz of his hair.
“Take my dress off,” I say, shocked by the commanding tone of my voice.
He yanks at the back of my dress.
“Carefully,” I warn.
“It’s beautiful,” he says as he carefully peels it off me. “So are you.”
He looks at me, taking my body in. I guide him on top of me, feel his hardness. He wants to have sex, but I tell him I’m not ready.
“Maybe next time.”
“Next time?” I ask.
He thrusts against me until he’s done, and then he collapses, his head on my breast.
I catch a glimpse of Annabel’s kitty-cat alarm clock. It’s ten thirty. It’ll be close to eleven if I run home now. My parents will kill me. Shit. “I’m so sorry, but I have to go,” I say. I see the bottle of water next to me. I’ve only had half of it. I grab it and chug the rest, begging for it to sober me up.
“We’ll do this again, right?” he asks.
“Uh, maybe,” I say as I put my dress back on.
I run home, ready to beg my parents’ forgiveness. TheyloveAnnabel, so it should be easy to come up with some excuse of what we were doing. My mom’s just so happy I have a girlfriend. When I walk in, my parents are awake, just as I expected. And they looklivid.
“Where have you been?” my mother asks. Tears well in her eyes.
“It’s almost eleven,” my dad says. He’s wearing a watch that Annabel’s dad gave him for his birthday last month. Seriously, all my best friends’ parents give my parents absurdly extravagant gifts.
“Annabel and I were just watching a movie,” I say. “We lost track of time.” My mom shakes her head, still crying. I move closer to her. “Mom, it’s okay. I’m sorry I worried you.”
“We were about to leave,” she says.
