Page 87 of Level Up
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“No—I don’t mean tonight, I meanever.”
“So do I.”
It tookthree days of late-night phone calls, but I’m finally in my bed this time.
It was kind of nice, actually, not worrying aboutperformingand instead just talking openly about whatever. Even if it meant I had to sort myself out afterwards—though apparently so did he, so I feel less embarrassed about that. But we haven’t yet stayed on the phone while we do.
I’ve cocooned myself in all the blankets I own, with all lights out in my bedroom and the curtains drawn shut to block out any streetlights, because I figure this will be a lot easier if I can just forget that I actually exist. That’s the plan, anyway.
“Have you…started?” I ask, even though it doesn’t sound like he’s moved a muscle in several minutes. I feel like we’re running out of time, since Malcolm will be back from his date at some point tonight.
“No.”
“Oh. Are you not…?”
He snorts. “No, I definitely am,” he says. “But I’m waiting for you.”
“I…don’t know how to do this,” I say stupidly.
“Which part?”
“The talkingpart.”
“You could say literally anything, at this point,” he says with a laugh.
“Okay, well—” I swallow and steady my nerves. “I was just thinking about this, um, dream I had. A while ago.”
“Oh?”
“It was after you came over to watch a movie,” I tell him hesitantly. “I think that’s… That’s when I realized that I…liked you in this way. And that night I dreamed that you?—”
“This dream was about me?”
“Um. Yes.”
There’s a pause and it sounds like he’s shifting around, but then it goes silent again. “Go on.”
“Well, I dreamed that you—Or, that we—Um. We were here, in my bed.”
“Right.”
“And, uh, you were sort of…using your mouth…on me.”
“Like the left boob thing?” he asks, and I can hear the hint of amusement in his voice.
“No…” I’m starting to burn up under all these blankets. “Lower.”
“Hot damn,” he says jokingly.
I actually laugh, because somehow he can be silly through all of this, and I’m still into him. “But I’ve never—I don’t actually know what that’s like, I’ve just read…books and stuff. It was all made up.”
“Did you like it, though?” More sound of movement, but I’m not sure if he’s actually doing anything yet.
“Uh, well, I sort of woke up because I was…you know.” I scrunch my face up in embarrassment as I say it.
“Whoa.” The word is just a deep whoosh of breath. “Did you have to touch yourself?”
