Fault Line by Christa Desir

it’s like this secret language of boys made up of grunting, hooting, and shoving. Maybe you could give me some sort of decoder so I could figure out what it all means.”
    I parked the car and turned to her. “I’m not sure I know you well enough to let you in on our secrets yet. You’ve only been to one swim meet after all. And it wasn’t even an official competition.”
    She leaned toward me. “I might be able to make it worth your while,” she said, and rubbed the top of my head. I’d gotten used to her petting. In this twisted way, I sort of craved it.
    “Really?” I asked, my throat going a bit dry.
    “I’ve been known to be very persuasive.”
    She was kidding, but I swallowed hard anyway. I’d been thinking of having sex with Ani since the first day at her house. Sort of pathetic. Really pathetic, actually. My parents would kill me, or at the very least give me an endless lecture about “personal responsibility.” But with Ani’s legs and how she talked and the way she made me feel, my brain kept latching onto the idea of the two of us together.
    I cleared my throat. “I can’t just give this information out to anyone. You’d have to prove yourself worthy. I mean, there was a reason they separated the boys and girls in health class in fifth grade.”
    Ani cracked an even bigger smile. “Is that when you guys learned how to grunt? Well, shit. All we learned about were periods and how to put in tampons the right way.”
    I held my hands up. “Gross. Too much information.”
    Ani shifted closer to me. She batted her eyelashes and turned on what she called her vixen charm. “So how do I prove myself worthy?”
    I looked her up and down. Should I say it? It’d be too soon, but everything was so comfortable with Ani. Blunt and direct. “You could, uh, sleep with me.”
    Ani pulled back. Her face closed up. Damn. I knew it was too soon. God, I was such an ass.
    “Forget it. I didn’t mean that. I . . . uh . . . You don’t have to prove anything with me. To me. Whatever.” Aw, crap. I was babbling like a girl.
    Ani crossed her arms and I tried hard not to look at her cleavage. Stupid girl shirts with their low-cut necks. Her necklace hung just above her boobs so I focused there. Blue stones woven together with wire.
    “You want to have sex with me?”
    I scratched the back of my neck and looked at her face. Not mad, more curious. “Well, yeah. I mean, not if you’re not ready. But I think things are going pretty good between us, so I thought maybe . . .”
    “It’s pretty early, Bumble. I’m not really a jump-in-the-sack-after-the-first-month kind of girl.”
    “I didn’t think you were,” I said. I was glad she wasn’t. It sucks for guys to think about their girlfriends being with other guys.
    She tapped her finger on her chin. I shifted in my seat and played with the keys. I looked at an old Slurpee cup forgotten in the cup holder. There were fast food wrappers on the floor at Ani’s feet. My car was an embarrassing vortex of crap. I was a dirtbag. What girl could think about sex sitting in my disgusting car?
    “Let me get back to you on that one,” she said finally.
    I let out a breath. What the hell was I thinking bringing this up now?
    “I’ll still teach you to drive, though.”
    She laughed. “God, I hope so. I’d feel terrible if you had to drive the entire time on our road trip next summer.”
    “We’re going on a road trip?” And she was talking about us next summer? Sweet.
    “Of course. After graduation. After you get your swim scholarship. We’re going camping across the Midwest. And then we’re going to visit the house where they filmed A Christmas Story ,” she said. Her energy was like a hot shower after running a marathon in an ice storm.
    “ A Christmas Story? That Ralphie movie?”
    “Yes. The house is in Ohio. It’s right by the world’s biggest candy store. It’ll be great. We can bring your brother if you want.” I loved Michael, but there was no