“Because… I have no idea. You tell me.”

He sits up and crosses his arms, his muscles flexing. “It’s just something to think about. You could practice on me.” He smirks. “I’m an excellent judge.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m sure you are.”

He chuckles under his breath, totally pleased with himself, and then he stands up. “Are you sure you want me to leave? I mean, I’m assuming that’s why you’re standing by the door, looking all hot and bothered.”

I open my mouth to say, “Get out please,” but nothing comes out. I never want him to leave, which is really bad. I could blame it on the fact that I like his company, but the fact of the matter is that I need him. “You want to watch a movie or something?”

He smiles broadly. “A sappy, poetic one maybe?”

I point a finger at him. “You know they don’t exist. We tried to find one on Netflix, remember?”

He sits up, ruffling his hair into place. “I’m sure one exists, we just haven’t looked hard enough… but we can watch a movie.”

“Which one?”

“Whatever you want?”

I raise my eyebrows to express my doubt. “And what if I say the girliest movie ever?”

He yawns, stretching his arms above his head, showing off his rock-hard abs and the artful ink on his skin. “Then I guess I’ll finally get a nap. I’ve been wanting to take one all day.”

I roll my eyes, but smile. “I secretly think you like girly movies,” I say as we head out into the living room.

He shakes his head, but I hear him laugh under his breath. “Not the movie, just the company that comes along with it.”

I don’t say anything, because I can’t. I’ve never been around guys before who have complimented me on anything besides my tits and my ass. I situate myself on the couch while Ethan boots up the Xbox so we can stream Netflix. Grabbing the remote, he sits down on the couch beside me. He sits closer than I anticipated, his knee resting against mine and it feels almost painfully good, to the point where my body feels like it’s going to explode from the tension and heat, and while I hate it, I also love it because I’ve never felt it before. It’s crazy and strange, like I’m a virgin again or something, and it alters my entire thought process. For the first time in my life, I picture myself sitting next to him, doing this exact same thing ten years down the road. We would be living in the same shitty apartment and Ethan would still be working his job in construction because he never graduated from college and I don’t think he cares enough to do anything more with his life. And I won’t be going anywhere, since I could barely get a job as a dancer at some skanky run-down bar. I would still be wearing an outfit I got off a clearance rack and we would have the same crappy furniture because Ethan hates fancy stuff and we couldn’t afford it between our crappy salaries. But despite poverty, everything would be okay. In fact, I can actually envision myself happy, even if I were poor. I’ve had everything before, material-wise at least, and look where it got me. Addicted to pills, struggling to take care of myself, and bearing all the emotional trauma I couldn’t deal with because I’d been taught it was wrong to show emotions that were anything but perfect and pretty. I feel so content right now and I want to keep feeling content. Genuinely content.

Ethan drapes his arm on the back of the sofa and his fingers brush my hair away from my neck. He starts searching through the movies, asking me questions about them, and I answer with minimal responses because I’m too engulfed in what’s happening to my body and mind. There’s so much clearness in it and I’m hyperaware of everything, from the way his lip is slightly swollen from where he chews on it to the intoxicating scent of him. I can even feel the heat flowing off his body, enflaming my skin and he’s not even touching me. It’s amazing. Clear. Undiluted. Is this what I’ve been missing? All these years? Is this what things are supposed to feel like? Warm and heart pounding, instead of cold and silent. If it is, though, then what the heck am I supposed to do with it?

A little bit into the movie Ethan falls asleep and he slumps over, putting his head onto my shoulder. I’m fairly sure he has no idea that he did it and I wonder what he’ll think when he wakes up. I let him stay there, running my fingers through his hair, across his nose, his jawline, his lips, like a creeper touching someone in their sleep. I can’t help it though. He’s got such soft skin and amazing lips. I wonder what they’d taste like if our mouths finally came into contact with each other.

I’m smiling at the thought when he starts muttering in his sleep. At first it’s really quiet and it almost sounds like he’s saying “Lila.” But then he starts to get louder and I realize he’s saying “London, don’t leave me… Please, stay… I need you…”

London? Is it a person? If so, Ethan’s never mentioned a London before. Who could they be? A girlfriend? But if they are then why has he never introduced us? An endless list of things runs through my mind and I realize that even though he sleeps around, the idea of him having a girlfriend is like a knife to the heart. Sex is meaningless, but a girlfriend he could care about.

Maybe even love.

Ethan

“Oh, Ethan,” London singsongs as she skips through a field. There’s a bonfire burning near the trees in the distance and the smoke rises to the starry sky. There’s a party going on and people are laughing, shouting, drinking, having sex and London is out in the field skipping like the strange girl that she is.

“What are you doing?” I ask, drinking my beer as I walk slowly behind her, watching her move through the field of tall grass and weeds. “You’re going to get us lost.”

She spins around and around, with her head tipped back, her dark hair blending with the night. “I’m having fun.” She spins again and then stops as I reach her. “How about you?” she asks, breathless.

I knock back the rest of the beer and then crush the cup, throwing it into the dirt. “What about me?”

She grins, walking toward me, swaying her hips. “Are you having fun?”

“I’m having a blast,” I say flatly, placing my hands on her hips.

She frowns. “Well, that sounds convincing.”

I sigh, letting my head fall forward so it’s pressed against hers. “Sorry, I’m just tired. And there are too many people over at the party for my taste.”

“You can be such a party pooper,” she says. “But only half the time. And then sometimes you’re totally into it.”

“I’m totally into it when I’m either drunk or stoned,” I admit. “But when I’m sober, it drives me crazy.”

She pauses, hooking her finger through my belt loop. “Sometimes I think you’re going to just pack up and leave and go wandering off on your own.”

I don’t answer right away, moving my forehead away from hers so I can look her in the eye. “I sometimes think about it. Just packing up and hitting the road.”

“Would you take me with you if you do?”

“Would you want to go with me?”

“Maybe… I don’t know.” She doesn’t look like she wants to. “Would you want me to go with you?”

“Maybe,” I say, but honestly I’m not sure. I really like her, more than any other girl out there, but there are times when I do think about leaving not just my life behind, but everyone in it.

“You’re such an ass,” she says. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t want to take me with you.”

“I never said that,” I tell her.

“But you didn’t completely deny it,” she retorts.

Silence grows around us and she holds on to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Okay, I take my ‘maybe’ back. I want to go with you but only so you can take me away from this place—my life.” Her voice is flat, saddened, devoid of any emotion. She gets this way sometimes when she’s talking about her life.