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That’s how far.
Still, the idea that he was interested in me suddenly was strange to me and a little exciting. I sipped my water and tried not to let my mind wander too much, but it was harder than it should have been.
Finally, I left my glass next to the sink, went into my room, and slid under the blankets. Getting off was inevitable. The entire day had been one whirlwind after another. It had been wild. I felt so many different emotions that I didn’t even know what to do. Still, one thing stuck with me: Locke.
I thought about his hands on my body. I thought about what it would feel like to have him touch me for real. I thought about what it might be like to have him wrap himself around me. I thought about all of that and more, and I touched every part of myself.
When I came, I tried to be as quiet as possible. The walls were thin, and I didn’t want to wake up Fawn, but fuck, if it wasn’t one of the best orgasms I’d ever had in my life. Would Locke and I ever fool around? I thought about it a lot. Ever since he’d come into the store, I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it.
He had started something with me that night, I knew. We’d started some sort of dance, but there was a huge problem. Locke acted like he’d been taking dancing lessons his entire life, and I didn’t even know where to start. I was going to fall on my face, I knew, and the only person who was going to get hurt was me.
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Fawn walked into the kitchen the next morning. I was leaning against the counter sipping a cup of coffee.
“I have a meeting,” I told her.
“Where?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “You look really nice.”
“Thanks,” I said, setting down my coffee. “So why does that sound like an insult?”
Fawn only laughed. She pushed by me to open the fridge and pull out the orange juice. She got herself a glass and then looked back at me.
“You look fancy,” she said. “You aren’t headed to class. That’s for sure. Date?” She asked.
“At this hour? No,” I shook my head. “I’m going to meet with Locke.”
I wasn’t sure why I was telling her the truth except for the fact that I really, really didn’t want to get murdered, and somehow, the idea of being honest seemed better than telling her a lie. I didn’t want to be known as the liar roommate, and besides, Fawn wasn’t going to judge me. Was she?
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Why?”
“He was here last night.”
She spit out her orange juice.
“What? Where? Did you fuck?”
“No!” I screeched. “And I’m only telling you in case I disappear and don’t come back. If he murders me, someone should know.”
“What? Why me?” She shook her head.
“Because you’re the only one I have,” I told her.
“Why can’t you call your-“ She stopped herself before she said “mom,” but I still cringed. Yeah, that was a wound that was going to hurt for a long time. Fawn had the decency to blush. “Sorry,” she said. “Sometimes I forget.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I do, too.”
It was horrible, but that was the hard part about dealing with death. Sometimes you were okay, and sometimes you weren’t. Sometimes everything seemed totally fine, and sometimes it seemed like the world was going to end.
There were days when I missed my mom so much that it hurt to breathe, and there were days when I barely thought about her at all. That was the burden of being one of the living. You were always carrying ghosts of the past.
“It’s fine,” I said again. Fawn still looked embarrassed, but she tried to push through the awkwardness of the moment.
“What are you going to say to him?” She asked.
“I have no idea.”
“What does he want you to come over for?”
“Again, I don’t know,” I said.
