Page 44 of Turtles All the Way Down

"Okay, I get it. You don't want to talk to your mother. I love you anyway." She blew me a kiss and at last I escaped to my room.

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I did have to read for history, but after I finished, I wasn't tired and I kept thinking about texting Davis.

I knew what I wanted to write, or at least what I was thinking about writing. I couldn't stop thinking about the text--writing it out, hitting send knowing I couldn't take it back, the sweaty heart-race of waiting for a reply.

I turned off my light, rolled over onto my side, and shut my eyes, but I couldn't shake the thought; so I reached over for my phone, clicked it awake, and wrote him. When you said before that you like my body, what did you mean?

I watched the screen for a few seconds, waiting for the . . . of his reply to appear, but it didn't, so I put the phone back onto the bedside table. My brain was quiet now that I'd done the thing it wanted me to do, and I was nearly asleep when I heard the phone vibrate.

Him: I mean I like it.

Me: What about it?

Him: I like the way your shoulders slope down into your collarbone.

Him: And I like your legs. I like the curve of your calf.

Him: I like your hands. I like your long fingers and the insides of your wrists, the color of the skin there, the veins underneath it.

Me: I like your arms.

Him: They're skinny.

Me: They feel strong actually. Is this okay?

Him: Very.

Me: So, the curve of my calf? I never noticed it.

Him: It's nice.

Me: Is that it?

Him: I like your ass. I really really like your ass. Is this okay?

Me: Yes.

Him: I want to start a fan blog about your ass.

Me: Okay that's a little weird.

Him: I want to write fan fiction in which your amazing butt falls in love with your beautiful eyes.

Me: lol. You are really ruining the moment. You were saying...before...?

Him: That I like your body. I like your stomach and your legs and your hair and I like. Your. Body.

Me: Really?

Him: Really.

Me: What is wrong with me that texting is fun and kissing is scary?

Him: Nothing is wrong with you. Want to come over after school Monday? Watch a movie or something?

I paused for a while before finally writing, Sure.

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