“Wanna hang outside?” The muscle in his jaw tics.
Scratching my hand, I contemplate his suggestion. “Hmm, sure.”
We make our way to the parking lot of the motel which is usually vacant when it’s nearly midnight. Meadow’s bike is parked by the corner, when we reach it, I glide my hand along the fairings and the handles.
All the power it possesses—I’m still mesmerized by the sight of it.
“You can sit on it and wait while I make a quick run to the store.” He says in a soft tone.
Tapping on the fuel tank, I nod, “Fine by me.”
The friction of the pendant against his necklaces creates a soft clinking tune as he leaves. While he goes to the store, I sneak glimpses at his big strides and rapid walk. I have a clear sight of him from this spot. Nothing blocks him but those disguises he continues to master.
My stubborn bones start to ease up as I take a seat on the asphalt, lightly leaning my back against the bike so I wouldn’t knock it down.
A bag of Cheetos flies and lands on my lap, I look up to seeMeadow grinning. He sinks next to me, handing me a Pepsi and a bag of gummy bears. I’m impressed by the gesture but I don’t verbalize it, just say a simple, “Thank you.”
He opens a new pack of cigarettes, takes one, and pushes it between his lips. He swiftly flicks the lighter, the flame sears the tip of the cigarette and sparks it neon orange while the sizzling sound calms me and dissolves the stress of what happened in the bar.
He takes a few drags and brings the cigarette to my lips, I take a deep pull. Tendrils of smoke evaporate around me.
I take another pull and puff it to the soft, caressing wind.
Drinking my Pepsi and taking a mouthful of Cheetos, I nudge him to give me the smoke now that my hands are free. “Thanks, this is nice.”
“Silence, snacks, and a smoke.” He says calmly. “Triple S.”
I can’t see his expressions and his body isn’t projecting any hints of how he actually feels. “You forgot sex,” I add in a mischievous tone, smoke is rolling off my lips.
He gives me a side look, “Don’t tempt me.”
I wish I could rip those glasses off his face and look him in the eyes.
“I did it anyway, get over your pants.” I close my eyes for a moment. “I’m on my period and I’m in pain anyway.”
“Do you want to have sex?”
I sigh in amusement. “Thanks for offering.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know… for starters, aren’t you disgusted? It’s sticky andsmelly…”
“And extremely normal,” he steals the smoke from my hands, grazing our fingers, “Men need to step up. If I get hurt and have a severe cut on my hand, it’s bleeding and hurting would you have sex with me?”
“Yes, but it’s not quite the same.”
“Why? Because it naturally flows out of you in small streams.”
“Kind of.”
“What kind of men have you been with?” his voice comes off judgmental but there’s a fraction of sympathy in there too.
“None of your business.”
“Right…” he slightly parts his lips. “If you don’t feel comfortable having sex, I can use my fingers. I read in articles that sex during period is very healthy. It also helps with the pain, it’s like painkillers.”
“You read articles…?” I mock him, staring at him in disbelief.
