Page 74 of Level Up
I repeat: I CAN BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS.
I can be normal about the fact that Damien is sitting on my couch again, and I am sitting next to him again, and my leg is touching his again, and he’s watching the speedrun on-screen like he’s actually paying attention.
Which is fine, because I’m totally paying attention, too. Just maybe not to the right thing.
“That was a pretty neat shortcut,” he says, chewing his lip pensively. And I know that he is because I’m watching his face instead of the screen.
I’m aware on some level I should look away, look at the screen, pretend that I know what’s going on, but instead I keep staring at him. Because I can’t not.
And eventually he notices.
His eyes slide sideways towards me, but he doesn’t turn his head—I wonder how much he can actually see when it’s not through his glasses. This is absolutely when I should look away. But I don’t.
“Are you going to maul me again?” he asks with a smallsmirk, and I cover my face as it immediately burns with embarrassment.
“Oh mygod?—”
“Hey.” He laughs lightly and turns towards me to pry my hands off my face. “I was kidding.”
“But maybe I was going to!” I wail, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to hide my face again despite him having both my hands in his grip.
“Okay.” He laughs again. “I feel like we should get something clear, here.”
I squint one eye open at him. “Yes?”
“There’s nothing you could do to me that I won’t be into,” he says, and I get another wave of embarrassment when I remember some of the things I’ve thought about doing with him.
“What if I kicked you in the nutsack?” I say jokingly, trying to deflect.
“Okay,almostnothing you could do.”
“But I…” I drop my shoulders half a degree and unclench from the orb shape I’ve been trying to make of myself. “I’m worried I’m going to do something wrong.”
“I’m saying that youcan’tdo something wrong,” he tells me. His tone is still light, although I think he’s being serious. “But you have to take the lead here, because I don’t know what you’re comfortable with.”
Well, neither do I, buddy.
I slip my hands away from his and he lets me, but I don’t use them to hide my face again, despite the growing urge inside me to burrow to the Earth’s molten core, because it sounds more comfortable than this conversation right now.
I give him a small nod. “Okay.”
“Okay.” He’s still watching me. Like he’s waiting for me to say something. Or do something.
“Does this mean I have to be the one to start kissing you?”I ask, unable to keep the seething annoyance out of my voice. I really don’t want to have to be in charge here.
“Yes,” he says seriously.
I make a frustrated noise at the back of my throat. “But you alreadyknowthat I’m comfortable kissing you!”
“Are you, though? Because last time, you ran away.”
I’m pretty sure the Earth’s core is just straight down; I should ask if my grandma has a shovel.
“At least for now,” he adds, picking up one of my hands again and lacing his fingers through mine, “you have to take the lead on this. I’m cool with whatever you want, even if it’s just this.” He lifts our joined hands as an example.
“What if I try to initiate something and you turn me down?” My voice is small when I ask, and I immediately wish I hadn’t.
“I won’t.”
