Page 87 of ILY
Or at least he tries. When he said he’s not a good dancer, he meant it. I’m not much better, but the alcohol in my system is making me confident. A ballerina. A wild soul ready to dance like the wind.
My hands go above my head, and I wave them like a tree in the forest, my mouth opening and closing like a bird. I call to my people, my friends.
Dance with me.
Michael’s little face appears in my mind, eating my vegetables. The zucchini. The tomatoes.
He breaks me out of my forest dance.
So I spin around and start to move like the tide. Back and forth. Side to side.
I’ve lost Thorne completely, just like one does when they’re playing in the ocean.
Before I know it, my joy crashes as I realize Roman is standing in front of me, his face screwed up in frustration.
‘When did you get here?’ I ask.
He doesn’t answer except with a question of his own. ‘Why Dex here?’
‘You mean Sex?’ I waggle my eyebrows and swear one falls off. I search for it on the floor but am wrenched up by Roman.
‘What wrong with you?”
‘Everything? Dead body in my aunt’s house. Stress.’
His very intact eyebrows rise. ‘Deaf body?’
Did I say Deaf and not dead? Did my hands autocorrect me?
‘No. Mean dead.’
He blinks at me, and I add, ‘She killed many. Bad woman. Groundhog her spirit haunting me.’
Hm, that was hard to sign. Must be that my fingers are falling off too. Pretty soon, I’ll just be a stump.
That makes me snort. They could plant me in the ground, and maybe I can grow. Like an apple tree. I’d be allergic to myself.
‘Why is your aunt killing people? Isn’t she dead?’ I watch his hands move—slower than normal. Or is that just my high-as-fuck brain slowing everything down?
My head bobs. ‘She dead. Killed man. Have box full. Shoes. One bloody.’
He stares at me long and hard as I hold my fingers up near my face. I think I shouldn’t have taken that gummy. That was a mistake.
‘I’m getting your boyfriend.’
‘Yes. Boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend now. Hot man.’ My thumb skims my nose, and I wiggle it. It feels weird, like it’s floating off my face.
Hands move around my waist, and I’m pulled forward. Everything swims, but everything is also perfect. And it’s made even better when I’m in Thorne’s arms. He smells so good, looks so good. Just wonderful.
“Thanks,” I hear him shout, but Roman just rolls his eyes.
Just then, I see Dex saunter up, and I squeal, my curved finger moving from my temple to my jaw. ‘Sex! Look-look! Roman.’
I end up just wiggling my fingers, trying to fingerspell it. What the fuck is his sign name? Why can’t I remember it?
Roman looks at Dex, and Sex looks at him. It’s a hot little stare-off. I wouldn’t mind the two of them touching again.
I fan my face and let out a sigh. ‘Maybe two of you need fuck.’
