I take Robs shirt off so now were pressed chest-to-chest. Our skin keeps making these weird, slurpy, suctiony sounds as our stomachs come together and then pop apart. At a certain point his hands fall away. Im still kissing him, moving down his chest, feeling the fuzz of hair scattered there. Chest hair has always grossed me out; its another thing I dont think about tonight.
Robs gotten quiet. Hes probably shocked. Ive never even done this much with him before. Normally when we hook up hes the one who takes charge. Ive always been afraid Ill do something wrong. It feels so awkward to act like you know what youre doing. Ive never even been totally naked with him.
Rob? I whisper, and he moans quietly. My arms are shaking from holding my weight up for so long so I stand up. Do you want me to take my dress off?
Silence. My heart is beating fast, and even though the room is cold, sweat is tickling my underarms. Rob? I repeat.
All of a sudden he lets out an enormous, honking snore and rolls over. The snores continue, long waves of them.
For a while I just stand there and listen to it. When Rob snores its always reminded me of when I was little and used to sit on the front porch and watch my dad make narrow circles on the back of his six-year-old Sears ride-on mower, which growled so badly I had to cover my ears. I never went inside, though. I loved to watch the neat little compact tracks of green my dad left in his wake, hundreds of tiny blades of grass spinning through the air like ballerinas.
Its so dark in the room it takes me forever to find my bra and stupid fur thing; I have to grope on my hands and knees for them. Im not upset. Im not feeling much of anything, not really thinking, just ticking off things I have to do. Find the bra. Hitch up the dress. Get out the door.
I slip into the hallway. The musics pumping at a normal volume, and people are flowing in and out of the back room. Juliet Sykes is gone.
A couple of people give me weird looks. Im sure Im a mess but dont have the energy to care. Its amazing how well Im holding it together, actually, and even though my brain is foggy I think that very clearly: Its amazing how well youre holding it together. I think, Lindsay would be proud.
Your dress isnt zipped. Carly Jablonski giggles at me.
Behind her someone says, What were you doing in there?
I ignore them. I just keep movingfloating, really, without really knowing where Im headeddrifting down the stairs and out onto the wraparound porch and, when the cold hits me like a punch, back into the house and into the kitchen. Suddenly the idea of the dark, quiet house lying peacefully beyond the DO NOT ENTER sign, full of moonlit squares and the quiet tickings of old clocks, seems appealing. So I go that way, beyond the door, through the dining room, through the alcove where Tara spilled the vase, my boots crunching on the glass, into the living room.
One wall is almost all windows. It faces out onto the front lawn. Outside, the night looks silvery and frosted, all the trees wrapped in a shroud of ice, like theyve been built out of plaster. I begin to wonder if everything in this world, the world Im stuck in, is just a replica, a cheap imitation of the real thing. Then I sit down on the carpetin the exact center of a perfect square of moonlightand I begin to cry. The first sob is almost a scream.
I dont know how long Im thereat least fifteen minutes, since I manage to pretty much cry myself out. In the process I snot all over myself and completely ruin my fur shrug with mascara and face gunk. But at a certain point I become aware that theres someone else in the room.
I get very still. Parts of the room are lost in shadow, but I can sense something moving at its periphery. A checkered sneaker flickers in and out of view.
How long have you been standing there? I ask, wiping my nose for the fortieth time on the back of my arm.
Not long. Kents voice is very quiet. I can tell hes lying, but I dont mind. It actually makes me feel better to know I wasnt alone this whole time.
Are you okay? He takes a few steps into the room so the moonlight hits him and turns him silver. I mean, youre obviously not okay, but I just wanted to know if, you know, theres anything I could do or something you want to talk about or
Kent? I interrupt him. He always did have a habit of launching into tangents, even when we were little.
He stops. Yeah?
Do youcould I maybe have a glass of water?
Yeah. Give me a sec. He sounds relieved to do something, and I hear the whisper of his sneakers on the carpet. Hes back in under a minute with a tall glass of water. It has just the right amount of ice cubes.
After I take a few long gulps I say, Sorry for being back here. The sign and everything.
Thats okay. Kent sits cross-legged on the carpet next to me, not so close that were touching but close enough that I can feel him sitting there. I mean, the sign was pretty much for other people. You know, to keep people from breaking my parents shit or whatever. Ive never really had a party before.
Why did you have one now? I say, just to keep him talking.
He gives a half laugh. I thought if I had a party, you would come.
I feel a rush of embarrassment, heat spreading up from my toes. His comment is so unexpected I dont know what to say. He doesnt seem embarrassed though. He just sits there looking at me. So typical Kent. He never understood that you cant just say something like that.
The silence has lasted a couple beats too long. I grasp for something to say. This room must get a lot of light during the day.
Kent laughs. Its like being in the middle of the sun.
Silence again. We can still hear the music, but its muffled, like it has to travel miles before it reaches us. I like that.
Listen. Just trying to say what I want to say makes a lump swell up in my throat. Im sorry about earlier. I reallythanks for making me feel better. Im sorry Ive always been At the last second I cant say it after all. Im sorry Ive always been awful. Im sorry theres something wrong with me.
I meant what I said earlier, Kent says quietly. About your hair.
He shifts slightlya fraction of an inch, moving closerand it hits me then that Im sitting in the middle of a moonlit room with Kent McFuller.
I should go. I stand up. Im still not very steady on my feet, and the room tilts with me.
Whoa. Kent gets up, reaching out a hand to steady me. You sure youre okay?
I It occurs to me I dont know where to go and I have no body to get me there, anyway. I cant stand the thought of Tara grinning at me, and Lindsays obviously out. At this point its so awful its funny, and I let out a short laugh. I dont want to go home.
Kent doesnt ask why. Im grateful for that. He just shoves his hands in his pockets. The outlines of his face are touched with light, like hes glowing.
You could He swallows. You could always stay here.
I stare at him. Thank God its dark. I have no idea what my face looks like.
He quickly stutters, Not, like, stay with me. Obviously not. I just meantwell, we have a couple guest rooms, with sheets already on the beds and stuff. Clean sheets, obviously, its not like we leave them on after people
Okay.
use them, that would be gross. We actually have a housekeeper who comes twice a week and
Kent? I said okay. I mean, Id like to stay. If you dont mind.
He stands there for a second with his mouth hanging open as though hes sure hes misheard me. Then he takes his hands out of his pockets, curls them and uncurls them, lifts them and drops them against his thighs. Sure, yeah, no, thats fine.
But for another minute he doesnt move. He just stares at me. The hotness returns, only this time its moving into my head, making everything seem cloudy and remote. My eyes are suddenly heavy.
Youre tired, he says, and his voice is soft again.
Its been a long day, I say.
Come on. He reaches out his hand and without thinking I take it. Its warm and dry, and as he leads me deeper into the house, away from the music, into the shadows, I close my eyes and remember how he used to slip his hand in mine and whisper, Dont listen to them. Just keep walking. Keep your head up. It almost feels like no time has passed. It doesnt feel crazy that Im holding hands with Kent McFuller and Im letting him lead me somewhereit feels normal.
The music fades away altogether. Everything is so quiet. Our feet barely make a sound on the carpets, and each room is a web of shadow and moonlight. The house smells like polished wood and rain and just a little bit like chimney smoke, like someones recently had a fire. I think, This would be a perfect house to get snowed into.
This way, Kent says. He pushes open a doorit creaks on its hingesand I hear him fumbling for a light switch on the wall.
No, I say.
He hesitates. No light?
No light.
Very slowly he guides me inside the room. Here its almost completely dark. I can barely make out the outline of his shoulders.
The beds over here.
I let him pull me over to him. Were only inches away, and its like I can feel his impression in the darkness, like its taking on a form around him. Were still holding hands, but now were face-to-face. I never realized how tall he was: at least four inches taller than I am. Theres the strangest amount of warmth coming off him. Its everywhere, radiating outward, making my fingers tingle.
Your skin, I say, barely a whisper. Its hot.
Its always this way, he says. Something rustles in the dark and I know he has moved his arm. His fingers hover half an inch from my face, and its like I can see them, burning hot and white. He drops his arm, taking the warmth with him.
And its the weirdest thing, but standing there with Kent McFuller in a room so pitch-black it could be buried somewhere, I feel the tiniest of tiny things spark inside me, a little flame at the very bottom of my stomach that makes me unafraid.
There are extra blankets in the closet, he says. His lips are right by my cheek.
Thank you, I whisper back.
He stays until Ive gotten into bed, and then he draws up the blankets around my shoulders like its normal, like hes been putting me to bed every night of my whole life. Typical Kent McFuller.
FIVE
You see, I was still looking for answers then. I still wanted to know why. As though somebody was going to answer that for me, as though any answer would be satisfying.