Part of her loved Lydia for putting it that way. For saying dirty dick.
But most of her just went red again and started flailing.
“Jesus Christ, Lydia, no.No. Oh my lord in heaven no. Is that what it sounded like I meant? No no no a million times no, I would never— I could never— The very thought of having sexual contact with Tate fills me with unspeakable horror. Are you kidding?”
“Then what the fuck happened?”
“Nothing happened.”Apart from the tickle fight that felt like I was fucking him.“He just told me.”
Lydia raised an eyebrow, fork halfway to her mouth.
“He told you he has a massive cock? Oh, well, that’s very convincing. Better call the FBI department in charge of large penises and let them know we cracked the case.”
“I want to laugh here, but his large penis is haunting my brain.”
“He probably doesn’t have a large penis. He was just…bragging.”
“He wasn’t though. That’s the problem. He completely organically brought it up in the middle of a conversation about having terrible sex.”
“Why were you talking about terrible sex in the first place?”
“We were watchingDirty Dancingfor the project. Then a lot of things happened.”
“Bad things? Things you hated and are now traumatized by?”
She took a long time to answer. Filled the space with lots of fidgeting and eating and glancing away as though thinking extremely hard. Really though she was just fighting a battle with her words—more than anything she wanted to say yes, but yes was not cooperating.
“No. No I wasn’t traumatized. No it wasn’t bad. But maybe that just makes everything worse somehow. I keep having all of this…fun with him. Like the most fun I’ve ever had with anyone. Then I realize we are having the fun and it feels insane.”
“How insane exactly?”
“Like I died two years ago and this is all just my heavenly reward for all the shitty things I had to endure through the whole of my dismal, mediocre little life.”
“You just called him a heavenly reward.”
“I know. I already hate myself for it.”
She knew Lydia was looking at her in the silence that followed. But she couldn’t bring herself to check for sure. If the expression on her face was disapproving, or pitying, Letty wasn’t sure she could take it.
And then a hand went over hers.
“Don’t. Don’t hate yourself. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying someone being nice to you,” she said, and oh it was such a relief to hear. To see her friend’s face, all full of concern and acceptance.
Only that wasn’t all.
There was more, said half laughing but no less troubling for it.
“I mean, it’s not like you’re going to fall in love with him. Right?” Lydia said.
And all she could do was nod.
Anything else was impossible, once those goosebumps bit down hard.
Chapter 12
She almost turned back around at the door to the gym. Of course she knew rationally that this was not the scene of so many high school crimes. It was larger, and airier, and the seating that surrounded the floor space was more impressive. It looked like an arena in there—yet still she hesitated. She thought of Tate, in one of those ridiculously revealing singlets, practicing his moves sweatily on some equally burly guy, and she hesitated. And when she finally did go in, she tried to keep her gaze casual and mostly focused on things above eye level: the clock on the wall, the scoreboard, the glass windows of Coach Parker’s office.
Not that she needed to.
