“I don’t know.I’ve never had that.What do I do?”
“Okay.”He blows out a breath and rubs his jaw like he’s trying not to panic.“Okay.Come with me.”
He takes my wrist, and I follow him into the bathroom again.
“Stand in the tub.”He clears his throat and looks away.“And take off your underwear.”
I climb into the rusty bathtub and pull down my underwear.The red-stained fabric looks unreal, like someone else wore it.
“This is my only pair.”I hold it out and away.
“I’ll take care of it.”He takes it from my hand and brings it to the sink.
With bucket water and a sliver of soap, he washes it the same way he cleans away other blood, fast and silent.I’ve watched him wash blood from his hands more times than I can remember.But nevermyblood.
Red drips along his fingers, mixing with the water and twisting into little spirals before disappearing down the drain.It’s weirdly beautiful.Mesmerizing.
When he’s finished, the underwear is white again.He wrings it out and hangs it on the line next to his socks.
I’m still standing in the tub.Still bleeding.Still confused.So I take off the shirt, too.I don’t want to get it dirty.It slides up over my head, and the air in the room hits my skin, making me shiver.
Jag turns around.His eyes go wide, then snap away so fast he stumbles and spins toward the wall.
“What—?”His fists flex against the tiles.“What are you doing?Cover yourself!”
“Why?You’ve seen me naked.”
“That was different.”He presses both hands behind his nape like he’s trying to hold his skull together.His elbows stick out like wings, and every muscle in his back goes tense.“You… Dove… You can’t just— God.Fuck!”
“Why are you acting weird?”
“I’m not… Fuck.Fuck.”He bends at his waist and straightens again.“You don’t look like a little girl anymore.”
I stare at his back.His spine moves when he breathes, jagged and rippling.
“What do I look like?”
“Like a woman.”He shakes his head sharply.“But you’re not.You’re still a kid.You can’t take your clothes off in front of anyone.Not ever.Not even me.”
“Well, that’s not true.I know what people do together without clothes on.”
“Kill me now,” he whispers under his breath.Then louder, “The shirt.Tell me when it’s on.”
“Fine.”I pull it on and cross my arms.“Done.”
When he turns around, he doesn’t look at me first.He looks at the doorway like he’s about to sprint into the night to avoid this whole thing.
So I say one word that will grab his attention.“Sex.”
He looks at me now.Really looks.
“What do you know about that?”His eyes narrow, then widen, then do this panicked flicker.
“I know you’ve been doing it for years.”
His face drains of color.
I push on.“Sometimes when you sneaked out of our forts and tents in the middle of the night, I followed you.”
