Page 29 of Nonverbal

Having the house to myself tonight is boring, but I’m glad Troy isn’t here. I know I said it was fine that he move in, but now that he’s here, I feel weird. He’s friendly, but he stands too close. His breath smells, and he smiles at me crooked. His gaze makes me self-conscious, which I’m usually not. Only when using my AAC app in public.

Brody always watches Troy and is mindful of his schedule to make sure we’re never alone, so I don’t feel unsafe. Just uncomfortable.

Maybe I’m being too quick to judge or missing an opportunity. Troy is a horn dog. I hear him talking on his phone outside because he does it near my window. He and his friends, or whoever he’s talking to, chat about women constantly. I bet he’d jump into bed with me a lot quicker than Brody. I probably should pursue him. He’d make a solid number five on my list. But ever since that night when Brody rescued me at Josh’s place, I feel different. Something shifted, but I can’t explain what. I don’t know why or how my insides changed, but I’m…I don’t know. I don’t even know how to put it in words.

Troy is attractive, but when I think about hooking up with him instead of Brody, I have that uncomfortable squirmy feeling I get when someone I don’t know touches me without warning. When Amber talks about a cute guy she saw and asks if I’m interested in meeting him, I change the subject. I’m indifferent, and that’s completely unlike me. I’m normally open to all hookups. And I’ve developed an interest in kissing. I want to kiss Brody. A lot. But that’s weird. Kissing is weird. Smooshing your tongue against someone else’s is gross and pointless. I’ve tolerated it in the past, but it seems like a waste of time when two people can go straight to fucking.

I don’t know why I think kissing would be different, even enjoyable, with Brody.

These urges to make out are probably because he’s the only man I’ve spent more than a few hours with. I’m severely lacking in real-life relationship experience. I’ve talked to lots of people online, lots of people all over the world. Even had friendships. But Amber is my first adult IRL friend and Brody is my first IRL longer-term male acquaintance person. Friend? Do I call him my friend?

I sit up. I don’t need to lie here and ponder the meaning of life and love. I’m bored and I’m alone for the evening. I need something to do. I grab Bamsy and head to the living room. Time for porn. There are still five DVDs I haven’t watched. One of them is new. I memorized all the titles, so I noticed right away when a new one popped up. At first, I thought Brody bought one for himself, but he never watches them. The only TV in the house is in the living room, so I would know.

I’m not sure why he bought one just for me, but it’s different from the rest. It says it’s specifically made for women with more sensuality, passion, and hot men. I’ve been curious. I’m not sure about the sensuality and passion, but I enjoy hot men.

I pop the made-for-women DVD into the console and settle onto the couch with Bamsy and a soda. As soon as the man on the TV yanks the woman against him and says, “I’ve been waiting all day to kiss these beautiful lips,” the front door bangs open. I flinch.

Troy and a woman with raven-black hair are sucking each other’s faces off. They stumble their way inside. He notices me and freezes. “Oh, shit, Paige,” he says. “Thought you might be out with Amber.” He closes the front door and hugs the woman against him. She’s tiny compared to his massive frame. “This is Candy.”

She waves, flashing a bow tattoo on her inner wrist, completely disinterested in me.

Troy glances at the TV. “Woah. What are you watching?” The man is now fondling the woman’s breasts through her shirt, taking time to thoroughly lick all the skin on her neck.

Candy laughs. It’s a screech that grates my ears. “Uh, okay, weirdo. That’s a little odd. You don’t turn it off for guests?”

“Hey, leave her be,” Troy says to her before turning his attention back to me. “Anyway, Paige, we’ll be in the office. Brody and Amber will probably be gone for a while, huh?”

I nod.

“Cool. Turn the volume up.”

I frown as they giggle their way down the hallway to Brody’s office, where Troy sleeps on a large air mattress. I don’t like the volume up louder than this. Women’s moans of pleasure can be ear piercing, and the repetitive ‘uh, uh, uh, uh’ gets to me.

I squeeze Bamsy and kiss his soft head. My body is sick and achy from knowing I’m alone with Troy. And Candy. I don’t know her. I’m in a confined space with a strange woman I don’t know if I can trust. And her voice is like broken glass.

I’ll go for a walk. Maybe Frank will be home soon and I can hang out at his place. I trust him.

As I switch the TV off and stand, a muffled grunt floats down the hallway. Then a moan. Something squeaks, probably the air mattress. I squeeze Bamsy tight. I’ve never been around two people having sex in real life. Well, my mom. Not in front of me, but she’s had a lot of boyfriends over the years. Sometimes I heard them through the walls and had to drown out the sounds with loud EDM.

A smack jolts me, then there’s more grunting and moaning. I shouldn’t, I know that, but my legs grow their own consciousness and carry me down the hallway. The office door is cracked enough for me to see Troy and Candy going at it doggie style, fully naked, while balancing on the air mattress. They sure didn’t waste time. They aren’t talking the way people do in porn, but Troy is rough. He smacks Candy’s ass and grunts again.

I shouldn’t be watching, but I can’t turn away. Candy is so in control and confident of her power. She emits a strong, female sexual energy I can’t embody. Because I’m a fraud. An impostor of a woman. Everything I’ve done with Brody and other men are things I’ve seen in porn or in movies. I copy. I mimic. I pretend. Because I don’t know what it’s like to be a fully sexual woman. Candy clearly knows and she’s owning it.

Urges, desires…I don’t know what they lead to. What are sexual sensations for? I’ve never felt the sweet release of orgasmic pleasure that makes people writhe and moan. The flood of brain chemicals that create a euphoric after-sex glow. It’s like having cake I can never eat. I know what the cake smells like, how it looks, the feel of the icing on my fingertips, but I can’t fathom the taste. It’s never been on my tongue. What’s the taste of sex? What’s beyond this ache and frustration that suffocates me?

Troy flips Candy over and they go at it missionary style. Their bodies fall into sync—joining, connecting, riding the rhythm closer to that shared sexual burst. The burst that brings two people as close as they’ll ever get. The air fills with a new smell. Tangy salt and bitterness. Sex.

I shrink into the shadows, one eye watching them through the crack. If I never orgasm, I’ll never experience love. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. I know about loving friends or family. But what does romantic love feel like? How does that taste? People in love have sex because love only deepens and solidifies after an orgasm. Sex creates love. That message is everywhere—porn, movies, books, music. Full romantic adoration comes from connecting sexually. If I can’t orgasm, how can I ever experience love?

Maybe I don’t want to. Love is conditional and only leads to pain. You can never trust someone to love you no matter what, and most people in love leave each other. That’s a fact backed by science.

“You’re a dirty slut,” Troy growls.

“Just your dirty slut,” Candy responds.

He slaps her cheek and then grabs her chin. “Yeah? You like that?”

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