Page 59 of Backslide
I shoot her a small smile. “I’m not sure how universal that scenario is.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Of course I do.”
And then she turns to look at me. Likereallylook at me.
“Of course you do,” she echoes, like she’s just realizing it. Like I am too. That our history wasreal.
“We were just children,” she says, like it’s puzzling but also a small piece of forgiveness.
“We were just children,” I say back.
And something stirs inside me as I stare into her thundercloud eyes. My own gaze drops to her lips, which fall open like an invitation. In that moment, it feels like we’re alone in the world. And I’ve got tunnel vision.
I want to make her feel better. I want to makemefeel better.
I’m not sure who leans in first. I just know that, somehow, our faces are suddenly inches from each other, her eyes heavy, lashes black. Her breath sweet with that iced tea.
And I am about to kiss her, like I want to so bad, like I now realize I’ve wanted to since I first saw her standing at baggage claim struggling with that stupid suitcase, when a voice rings out from just feet away.
“Hey, you two!” Lydia squawks. “Get a room!”
She’s approaching with another woman who I don’t really know, a work friend of Cara’s maybe who she has made a vacation disciple. Damien is coming around the corner too, but I don’t know if he’s caught the scene.
I wish I could freeze the moment, from just seconds ago. But it must be time to head out. And Nell is already up and standing.
“What the fuck with today,” she says to no one in particular.
What the fuck with today.
12BOTHBACK IN THE DAY
“Truth or dare?” that girl Chloe asks. Chloe is pretty. She has a pierced septum, a pierced tongue, and a ripped Nirvana T-shirt and supposedly dabbles in smoking heroin—a chic amount. She is on the periphery of their world—appearing, compliments of Sabrina, for weeks at a time and then disappearing into the ether.
Tonight, she’s here at Sab’s house because Sab’s parents are away. And now that the group is all varying degrees of wasted and draped on living room furniture in an amorphous circle, Chloe has suggested a game of old-school Truth or Dare.
It’s possible that she’s just trying to get some action.
It’s Nellie’s turn.
“Truth,” she says, nerves fluttering despite the alcoholic lubrication.
Chloe leans back on her hands. Tick-tocks her head. Worries her tongue pierce with the tip of her tongue.
“What’s your number?” she shrugs finally.
“My phone number?”
Cara and Sabrina giggle.
“No, yournumber. Like how many people have you fucked?”
“Dare,” says Nellie, not skipping a beat.
Chloe laughs. She looks scary. Her pale skin, jet-black hair, skinny arms. But she’s good-natured.
“Okay, dare then.”
