with Brandon. He was perfect and happy. He had to be. I’d driven him away so he could be, in a way that wasn’t possible with me. “What do you mean?”
He looked up. “Why am I always thinking about you?”
4.
Sin and Cosin
----
Late that night, it started to snow again. The flakes floated against the windowpane, flashing blue when they caught the reflection of the emergency call box outside the entryway. We’d turned off all the lights in the suite, since there are things you can’t say if you’re not in the dark.
Snow is a different substance at 3 A.M . It accumulated on the ground, glowing in the moonlight, coating the campus with an unearthly, radioactive radiance. Part of me wanted to go out and roll around in it, see if I could shimmer as much as the crystalline trees and the icy ground and the frosted, wrought-iron banisters. The other part never wanted to leave the room. In the post-snowfall silence, it was easy to believe that the night would never end, and I’d never have to deal with the consequences that waited beyond this moment, beyond that door.
The room was still dark when I opened my eyes the next morning. It might have been the sound of the wind that woke me. New Haven was in for a rotten day, to judge by the wet, angry howling on the other side of the glass. So much better just to snuggle back under the covers, which I did.
And jostled the body lying next to me.
“Hi,” he said, and put his hand on my T-shirt-covered shoulder. “You’re awake.”
“How long have you been?” I whispered.
He shrugged, his arms brushing my torso beneath the covers. “A while.”
“Doin’ what?”
“Watchin’ you.”
I felt heat in my cheeks, and wondered if there was enough light for him to see me blush. The silence that followed his announcement was one in which, under normal circumstances, the girl would kiss the boy who’d wanted to watch her sleep, but these weren’t normal circumstances, and even though the rules were only a few hours old, I understood them.
1) Look, but don’t touch.
2) Talk, but don’t taste.
3) Sleep together, as long as you aren’t sleeping together .
Brandon wore the sweatpants and T-shirt I never had gotten around to returning to him. He shouldn’t have stayed, and we both knew it. But our conversation had gone on so late, ending just as the weather had been at its worst, that the very idea of sending him out in it had seemed unconscionable. Why the perfectly serviceable couch in the common room hadn’t been a viable option was a bit harder to explain away.
You know, if we planned to explain it to anyone. And I didn’t know if we did. It hadn’t once occurred to either of us to say What are we doing? or What does this mean?
And I didn’t want to be the one to break that spell. Not on this dreadful, bleak morning, cocooned inside my comforter, lost in the dreamtime of February. I didn’t want to know the answer to those questions. Didn’t even want to think the word Felicity, in case it was enough to crack this moment like thin ice.
But as I looked into Brandon’s eyes, I ran out of synonyms for happiness.
“You aren’t hungry, are you?” he asked me.
I rolled my eyes. Being hungry would mean getting up and going into public. And I never wanted to do that again. I wondered, idly, how long we could live on the Tic Tacs in my purse.
“Do you want to sleep more?”
I shook my head against the pillow, still not willing to speak. And now he was smiling. What a great smile he has. How in the world had I survived the last eight months without seeing it?
“Neither do I.” And then he snuggled back under the covers as well. His hand slipped from my shoulder down my arm and past my wrist, and he laced his fingers with mine.
I shifted my face up again and met his eyes. We stared at each other as his thumb softly traced that sensitive bit of skin at the base of my thumb and forefinger. It was another moment where normal
He looked up. “Why am I always thinking about you?”
4.
Sin and Cosin
----
Late that night, it started to snow again. The flakes floated against the windowpane, flashing blue when they caught the reflection of the emergency call box outside the entryway. We’d turned off all the lights in the suite, since there are things you can’t say if you’re not in the dark.
Snow is a different substance at 3 A.M . It accumulated on the ground, glowing in the moonlight, coating the campus with an unearthly, radioactive radiance. Part of me wanted to go out and roll around in it, see if I could shimmer as much as the crystalline trees and the icy ground and the frosted, wrought-iron banisters. The other part never wanted to leave the room. In the post-snowfall silence, it was easy to believe that the night would never end, and I’d never have to deal with the consequences that waited beyond this moment, beyond that door.
The room was still dark when I opened my eyes the next morning. It might have been the sound of the wind that woke me. New Haven was in for a rotten day, to judge by the wet, angry howling on the other side of the glass. So much better just to snuggle back under the covers, which I did.
And jostled the body lying next to me.
“Hi,” he said, and put his hand on my T-shirt-covered shoulder. “You’re awake.”
“How long have you been?” I whispered.
He shrugged, his arms brushing my torso beneath the covers. “A while.”
“Doin’ what?”
“Watchin’ you.”
I felt heat in my cheeks, and wondered if there was enough light for him to see me blush. The silence that followed his announcement was one in which, under normal circumstances, the girl would kiss the boy who’d wanted to watch her sleep, but these weren’t normal circumstances, and even though the rules were only a few hours old, I understood them.
1) Look, but don’t touch.
2) Talk, but don’t taste.
3) Sleep together, as long as you aren’t sleeping together .
Brandon wore the sweatpants and T-shirt I never had gotten around to returning to him. He shouldn’t have stayed, and we both knew it. But our conversation had gone on so late, ending just as the weather had been at its worst, that the very idea of sending him out in it had seemed unconscionable. Why the perfectly serviceable couch in the common room hadn’t been a viable option was a bit harder to explain away.
You know, if we planned to explain it to anyone. And I didn’t know if we did. It hadn’t once occurred to either of us to say What are we doing? or What does this mean?
And I didn’t want to be the one to break that spell. Not on this dreadful, bleak morning, cocooned inside my comforter, lost in the dreamtime of February. I didn’t want to know the answer to those questions. Didn’t even want to think the word Felicity, in case it was enough to crack this moment like thin ice.
But as I looked into Brandon’s eyes, I ran out of synonyms for happiness.
“You aren’t hungry, are you?” he asked me.
I rolled my eyes. Being hungry would mean getting up and going into public. And I never wanted to do that again. I wondered, idly, how long we could live on the Tic Tacs in my purse.
“Do you want to sleep more?”
I shook my head against the pillow, still not willing to speak. And now he was smiling. What a great smile he has. How in the world had I survived the last eight months without seeing it?
“Neither do I.” And then he snuggled back under the covers as well. His hand slipped from my shoulder down my arm and past my wrist, and he laced his fingers with mine.
I shifted my face up again and met his eyes. We stared at each other as his thumb softly traced that sensitive bit of skin at the base of my thumb and forefinger. It was another moment where normal
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