*comfort 2001-05-04 2:12 a.m.*

Comfort

�So, what do you think?�

�I�m not sure. I mean,� she ran her hands through her hair. �I�m not sure.�

Sunset was over, but it still wasn�t entirely dark. The sky was Maxfield Parrishing,

showing off it�s various dusky shades of teal. They were laying in the grass in her

backyard, arms crossed behind their heads, staring at the stars, the same as it had always

been since he moved in next door, six years ago when they were ten. Except their bodies

weren�t as loose as they had always been. They weren�t touching at all. There was an

awfulness in the air.

�I mean, everybody thinks,� he cleared his throat. He wasn�t sure if he could say

it. �Everybody thinks we�re already, I mean, you know.�

�Everybody thinks we�re having sex. I know that.� She didn�t want to sound that

cold. �My mom even asked if she and I needed to talk about anything, last week.�

�So, don�t you think-�

�I don�t think we should have sex.�

�No! I don�t think we should,� he cleared his throat again, the words sticking in

his throat, �I don�t think we should have sex either. At least not yet. I mean, not for a

really long time. Not till we�re married. I mean, not that we�ll necessarily get married or

anything. But no, I didn�t mean we should have sex.� He stopped. He heard crickets.

He heard her breathing. �I didn�t mean that.�

�Good,� she said, and turned on her side. She turned so she was facing away from

him, and immediately realized what a dumb idea that was. Listening to his awkwardness

had reminded her who he was. Ever since they were ten, they�d had conversations like

this at least once a week, and it had gotten so comfortable between them that something

like that wouldn�t mean anything at all. She�d just turned to turn, to get more

comfortable. Except now, it looked like a cold shoulder. She didn�t want to have sex

with him, but she didn�t hate him either.

�Good,� he said, and turned and faced the other way.

She sighed.

He could see into her house from where he was laying. The lights were on in the

kitchen. They beckoned to him tauntingly. The house was so comfortable and familiar to

him. He knew it as well as his own house, and he felt more comfortable there than at

home. The household moved around him naturally, and he�d always felt like he belonged

there. And now it just reminded him of how he didn�t belong with it, with her. It was not

his house. She was not his anything anymore.

�I�m sorry,� he said.

She turned to him, consciously genuine. �For what?�

�For everything.� He continued to face away from her, aware of the fact that

when she turned, she was a few inches closer than she had been before. �For bringing it

up.�

�Oh.� She decided that that oh was even dumber than her turning had been

before. This whole situation was so wrong. She wanted to be ten years old again. �I

mean, it�s okay. I mean, I�m glad.�

His muscles tightened, ready for her to unleash some new cruelty. �You�re glad?�

�Yeah, I mean, I�m glad you felt you could bring it up. I mean, I�m glad you feel

so comfortable with me that you can bring something like that up with me.�

�Yeah,� he said. It was quiet again. He scratched his knee, just for some noise,

some movement. �I�m glad, too.�

*listening to: *
<<< | >>>

*<<<<<* *<<* *<* | *>* *>>* *>>>>>*
*random* *list*