AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His hands are on Avery’s hips.
The answer?
Kisses. Variations of kisses. Repetitions of kisses. Learning each other through kisses.
The answer?
Clothes staying on, because there are parents walking inthe hall, because this isn’t that, not yet. But just because clothes stay on, it doesn’t mean there aren’t bodies to be felt through fabric, skin to feel the pressure, feel the touch.
The answer?
It doesn’t really matter what they do.
—
There is foodin the pantry, food in the refrigerator, and even candles and matches waiting on the kitchen counter, just in case the power goes out. There is also the constant narration of the Weather Channel from the television in the family room, the entire storm looking like a single cloud marauding over a quarter of the country.
Ryan and Avery act as one another’s mirrors, making sure all their clothing looks settled before heading to the kitchen. If Avery’s parents notice anything is off, they don’t say a word. Plus, Avery’s mother is busy with dinner and Avery’s father is busy with the weather. Since it is now dark out, the television is his window.
“There you are,” Avery’s mother says when Ryan and Avery walk into the room, as if she hadn’t known where they were all along. “I think we need to have a talk. First off, I realized I didn’t ask you if you have any allergies or food restrictions, Ryan.”
“I’m good with whatever,” Ryan replies. There are about a hundred foods he hates, but he figures this isn’t what she’s asking. His position here is untested enough that he’ll eat anything she makes.
“Great. We’re having chicken, potatoes, and broccoli—I figured that wouldn’t be very controversial. The bigger issue is the snow. They’re saying the highways are a complete mess, and the storm’s not going to slow down until midnight at the earliest. So it’s looking like you’re going to have to spend the night here. There’s no way I’m letting you drive home in this. I’d like to talk to your mother, if that’s okay. Explain what’s going on. I can’t imagine there’s going to be school tomorrow.”
Avery tries unsuccessfully to suppress a yip of joy, afraid that if the universe knows how pleased he is by this turn of events, it will send a sudden heat wave. Then he realizes this is silly, and allows his mom to take some satisfaction in the way he buzzes and beams.
Ryan’s spirits can’t bounce quite as high as Avery’s. He is sure that Avery’s mother is right, and that there is no feasible, safe way for him to get home. He even knows his parents will concede that. But there will still be the matter of why he came here in the first place, why he hadn’t turned back at the first glimmer of trouble. There won’t be hell to pay so much as he’ll get a bigger weekly allowance of hell.
“I can just call her,” he tells Avery’s mom. “Explain the situation.”
“Trust me,” comes the reply, “I’m a mother. She’s going to want to talk to me.”
Sure enough, after Ryan calls and tells his mother what’s up, and that what was supposed to be a date (he doesn’t use the worddate) has turned into a sleepover (he goes nowherenear the wordsleepover), she immediately asks to talk to Avery’s mother. As if the blizzard is some moon landing he’s shooting on a sound stage.
Ryan has no idea what, if anything, Avery has told his mom about Ryan’s parents, but Avery’s mom ups the cheer factor in her voice by at least three whorls when she says, “Hi there!” at the start of their conversation. Then there is a serious “Yes” and an empathetic “Oh, believe me, I understand.” After that—Ryan has no idea, because Avery’s mom walks out of the kitchen, and stays out of the kitchen for another five minutes.
“Clearly, they’re arranging our marriage,” Avery comments in the interim.
“If I weren’t so terrified, I’d find that funny,” Ryan replies.
Avery’s father comes into the kitchen, plucks a grape from the refrigerator, and pops it into his mouth.
“Smells good,” he says.
“We’ll be sure to pass that on to Mom,” Avery vows.
Avery’s father looks around. “Oh. Where is she?”
“Talking to Ryan’s mom. He’s staying tonight.”
“Good deal,” Avery’s father says. Then he turns to Ryan. “You don’t mind sleeping in the backyard, do you? We’ve got a great sleeping bag somewhere in the basement. I think it’sinsulated.”
“Dad. Not cool.”
“I wasn’t aiming for cool. I was aiming forfrigid.”
Avery’s mother returns to the kitchen. Avery thinks she looks a little less carefree than before. Ryan thinks she looks like she’s just talked to his mother.
