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I squeezed one of her smooth hands and turned it over. I traced a line in her palm.
“You’re saying it’s no big deal, but your body language says you’re lying.”
“Why are you constantly reading my body language? Can’t my words be enough?”
“People often say one thing but feel completely different. Social conventions are filled with polite lies, and I often don’t understand them.”
“You don’t need to read my body language, Loïc. If I’m upset, I’ll be honest and tell you.”
I worried at my bottom lip.
“What?” she asked.
“I don’t think I know how to stop, but I don’t want to make you angry either. I promise I’m not doing it to spy on you. Your moods are important to me, and I want to do my best not to upset you.” The idea of trying not to read her was frightening. It was how I navigated in this odd world.
Her mouth twisted. Exasperation? She didn’t look angry, but I was still learning her tells.
Damn, I was still doing it.
“You’re safe with me. I’ll tell you if we have a serious problem.” She took my face in her free hand and ran her thumb along my cheek. It was intimate—overwhelming. How did people stand this? It was a rasp along my nerves and yet nirvana. Tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t want to pull away and chance hurting her feelings, but the feelings bubbling up in me were hard to stuff down.
“Okay,” I whispered, not feeling okay at all. I needed to talk to Jack, but I couldn’t leave. I needed to be here tomorrow or I would let her down. Maybe there was a way to find out Jack’s phone number. I paid for their phone, but I didn’t have their number memorized.
I’d have to figure out how to be okay on my own.
“Why don’t we go home and shower off some of this clown makeup. I feel like it might crack and fall off if I move too much.”
I nodded, and she kissed my forehead.
The knot in my throat caught my pathetic, worried whine, thank god.
She got to her feet, heading across the trailer to grab something out of the closet. I scraped myself together, swallowing, furtively drying my eyes with the back of my hand and hoping whatever makeup they had put on me wouldn’t give me away.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Loïc
Dancing frees Loïc from every dismal thought.
Euphoria.
Loïc Leduc, Journal 14
“Boo.”
She choked on her tea and coughed it up all over the fuzzy throw draped across her legs.
The pages she’d been reading geysered up out of her hands and cascaded to the floor.
“Loïc!” Wild-eyed, she pressed a hand to her chest.
I smiled an apology. “Sorry, I’ve been here for ten minutes. Didn’t you hear me come in?”
“If I’d heard you come in, I wouldn’t be having a heart attack right now!” She laughed and shook her head. Before she could trouble herselfto pick up the papers, I rushed over and collected them for her, then started sorting them. Luckily, they were numbered.
It looked like the script for the next episode. Our first two together had gone well, if Liza was any judge.
“Where have you been?”
“Around.” I shrugged. “Giving you space.”
