Page 88 of Find My Way Down to You

I’m not wearing a suit anymore. Only a ramen-stainedT-shirt and boxers. On my next inhale, I smell them:

Flower petals.

I was in Aides. I was with Milos at the ball. I was with Cary, before and after.

My lips tingle. We kissed.

A smile spreads across my face before I can stop it. Something else shifts in me too. It’s a wildfire under my skin. Carelessly, it spreads. I’m not sure how to put it out.

Well, I am.

My bedroom door is shut. I can’t hear any noises on the other side. Maybe Max hasn’t come home yet. Still, I move quietly. I let my hand slide down my stomach.

My fingers skid over my hip bone, into my waistband. Then lower.

Flames rise swift and hot in my cheeks. It’s been so long since I did this. Since Iwantedto. So long since I thought about another boy in this way. But the images come without any effort.

The light across his smooth face. Pale gold skin against a black suit. His hair caught between my fingers. The muscles in his back arching under my palm. Our bodies crushed together, mouths dancing.

His sugary taste on my tongue. Nervous urgency in his kiss.

It plays over and over behind my eyelids. My heart races against my throat. The tide rises faster than I expected, filling and taking me.

I go, willingly.

It’s a different kind of drowning.

The Before

I feel…different.

Of course I do. I’m exhausted and euphoric at the same time. My body’s sore too. Muscles slowly readjusting. Sweat cools on my skin as my breaths even out into a steady rhythm.

The difference is more than just physical. Something else has changed inside me. I can’t explain it. Minutes pass before I even have a name for it:

Fearlessness.

Like I could leap off the steep cliffs of Shoreline Park. Plunge into the rolling waves of the Pacific.

Like the thing I just did was awkward and exciting and brave.

All I want is to soak this moment in. Stare up at London’s bedroom ceiling. Let my brain wander.

What else has changed? How does it feel? How doeshefeel?

The empty spot on the bed next to me is still warm. Seconds after we finished, London waddled into his bathroom. It was cute to watch. But now I miss him. Even though his scent lingers on his pillows and his UCSB hoodie hangs over his desk chair and every inch of this room is organized in a way that is purely London…

I want therealthing.

And I don’t wait long.

The bathroom door creaks open. Bare feet pad on the hardwood floor. He pinches my still-naked hip.

Standing over me with tousled hair and his smile weirder than ever, London says, “Get up.”

My brow furrows. “Where am I going?”

Dread curdles in my stomach. It claws at my thoughts. Is he kicking me out? Was that it? We had sex and now…he doesn’t want me around?