DEACON
I slidthe book onto my nightstand, carefully opening the pages to where the small slip of paper was. Winter had written my name on it. He’d set the book aside for me, and the book was great.
But this little slip of paper meant so much more.
My name in his handwriting.
I’d told him I liked him. Probably shouldn’t have just said it like that, but usually if I thought it, I said it. There was no taking it back now, and I wouldn’t even if I could.
Because he’d said he liked me too.
Those words shot through me like a bolt of lightning, a pinball of excitement.
I hadn’t wanted to leave. I wanted to stay there and help him in his store, but he was so busy and it was his first day, so when Mom and Dad said it was time to go, I went with them.
I wished I hadn’t, though.
Mom had asked him if he’d be going to the Christmas tree lighting tonight and he’d said yes. Then she’d told him we might see him there.
So now I had to wait until it was time to go to that.
Thinking about seeing him again made me nervous, but in a good way. Not a tummy ache this time. More jittery. Exciting.
I liked him.
And he liked me.
Just knowing that made me feel... well, I felt everything all at once. But it made me feel that we’d be okay. That we’d established that first step, and now we could see what was next.
I’d read up on everything I could find on asexuality. I wanted to better understand him and what he meant when he’d said he’d never felt sexual attraction.
It was almost a relief, to be honest.
Had I thought of sex? Yes. Did I want to have sex?
I couldn’t imagine I ever would want that.
I wasn’t comfortable with touch, or intimacy, or scrutiny.
Did I touch myself? Yes. Not often, though. Did it feel good? Sure. Could I ever imagine doing that to someone else? Or having it done to me by someone else?
Undecided, leaning heavily toward a no.
Knowing Winter didn’t want that, knowing he wouldn’t pressure me into that, was such a relief. Considering I couldn’t even imagine holding his hand, anything more than that seemed foolish to worry about.
Even holding hands and kissing seemed so far out of my comfort zone that I couldn’t even imagine it.
Maybe one day. But also maybe not ever. And either was fine with me.
Only maybe if I was okay with it. If I’d worked up to that. And as of right now, my answer would be no, but I couldn’t logically say that might change in the future.
According to everything I’d found online about asexuality,some people still liked to kiss and hold hands and cuddle and hug. They just never felt any need for anything more. Some didn’t even want to do that. They wanted nothing physical; just to hang out, have deep and meaningful conversations, have dinner and watch movies and read books. They wanted to feel connected to a special person who understood them, valued them as a person without any physical aspect to their relationship; a purely platonic relationship.
I liked the sound of that very much.
I had to wonder what Winter wanted. If he wanted anything.
I would need to ask him.
