Sam shakes his head, but after a second, he starts moving toward the front door.
I don’t try to catch up, but I do follow him inside.
It’s strange how familiar the space feels now.Homey.That distant panel of light that spills out of Sam’s room.The lingering smell of the chicken enchilada casserole.
Sam’s already on the other side of the room, arms folded across his chest.Not combative.Definitely defensive.
I shut the door and give us both a moment and say, “Do you want to sit down?”
He shakes his head and makes that not-laugh sound again.“I can’t believe I said that.What the fuck is wrong with me?”
“Nothing’s wrong with you.I’m glad you told me.Thank you for telling me.”
He looks off into the kitchen.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” I say.“Do you want to talk about this?Or do you want to, I don’t know, chill?We can put something on TV.”
That brings him around.He looks at me with this simultaneous look of horror and disbelief, like I might be the stupidest person he’s ever met.He even manages an outraged, “No!”Sam only sounds slightly more in control of himself when, a few seconds later, he says, “I only told you because—I don’t know.”It takes him even longer to say, “I like you.”
I don’t know everything about Sam, but I know that’s a few hundred miles of progress packed into three words.
“I like you too,” I say.
He shakes his head.
“Yeah, dumbass, wellIkissedyou, remember?”
He actually looks betrayed.Then, like he’s fighting it, he smiles.
“Can we sit down?”I ask.“I don’t bite.Unless you’re into that.”As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I raise my hands.“That was reflex.”
But Sam gives me a lookconfirmingI’m the dumbest person he’s ever met, and he takes a seat on the couch.At the far end.Pressed up against the armrest like he’s going to flip over it and sprint away if I try anything.
“If I sit next to you,” I say, “are you going to put me in a chokehold?”
He looks younger when he rolls his eyes.
I sit—close, but not right on top of him.I bump his knee with mine.“You realize about ten minutes ago, we were pretty comfortable touching each other.”
“I shouldn’t have told you.Now it’s going to be weird.I kept thinking I wouldn’t have to say anything and—and you know.”Idon’tknow, but from how red he turns, I’ve got an idea.“I should have kept my trap shut.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not weird for me.”
He does this single, contemptuousha, and all of a sudden, I know two things: the dark side of teenage Sammy, and the fact that his gran must have gone through alotof switches.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”I ask.
There’s this part of me that thinks he might not answer, but then he says, “You think I don’t know what I’m doing.”He rubs his thighs.“And you’ve got all this experience.”
Now, I do laugh.A short one, and it makes him snap his head toward me.I hold up my hands.“It’s just, this is the first time that not keeping my dick dry has come back to bite me in the ass.Well, in this particular way.”
Not even a smile.
“Okay,” I say, “so let’s be real polite and use your way of saying it: I’ve got some experience.”
“You’ve got alotof experience.”
“Jesus God, Sammy, it’s not like I’ve got a For Rent sign.”Still nothing, so I continue, “I’ve got more experience than you.So what?I don’t care.Nobody who’s worth a damn is going to care.”
