He kissed the nape of my neck and I unbuttoned his shirt and slid it down his arms. His body was so lean and strong and real, not the body of a model or a movie star or even really an athlete, but a body with muscles built from long, tiring labor. I lifted my sweater over my head and I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t afraid. We stared at each other for a moment and came to a silent decision. I stood and wiggled out of my skirt while he sat forward and shucked his pants. We looked at each other again, and my breath caught in my chest.
I bit my lip and unclasped my bra and let it fall to the floor. His eyes were so wide I could see my reflection in them, and the girl in those mirrors was smiling and she was beautiful. He took me by the arms and pulled me back down. I giggled and ran my fingers down his stomach as he crawled on top of me.
He kissed me again and I wrapped my arms around him. His fingers ran down my side, tickling me, and it took every ounce of willpower not to giggle and squirm, and from there they passed over my hip bone and down farther still. I didn’t stop him but I breathed in sharply and stiffened. His eyes snapped open and he raised himself off me, his eyes wide with concern.
“Is this your first time?” he asked. When I looked away, he touched my cheek, turning my gaze back to his. “Of course it’s your first time. You said I was your first kiss. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said, biting my lip. I knew where I wanted to go with Grant tonight, but now that we were here, I was scared.
“Okay.” He rolled onto his side and rested his hand on my cheek. “Do you wanna slow down?”
“Yeah,” I said, grateful that he knew, and understood. “This is really wonderful, but yeah.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “That’s so absolutely fine.” He rolled onto his back. We laced our fingers together and watched the sky fade from orange to purple to black, just feeling each other’s warmth and listening to each other’s breathing.
“I’ve been thinking about the future,” Grant said. I turned to look at him. He was still staring up at the dome of stars above us. “I can’t get into NYU or anything, but I talked to the guidance counselor and she said if I get my grades up I could get some grants and go to college in state. I might be able to go to community college without even takin’ out any loans.”
“Wow,” I said, snuggling up next to him and resting a hand over his heart. It was beating so fast. I didn’t ask what he was going to do about his family—I wanted him to only think about himself, for once.
“And I was thinkin’,” he said, turning now to look at me. Our noses pressed together and I unfocused my eyes. “I could use some of my financial aid and get a computer, and when you’re in New York we could Skype each other.”
“Maybe you could come up and visit,” I said.
“Maybe,” Grant said. “That’d be nice.”
“And maybe,” I said, bringing my lips centimeters from his and letting my eyelids droop, “once you’ve gotten all A’s down here, you could transfer to my school and get an apartment with me.”
“For now though,” he said, pulling me tight to him and sneaking a quick kiss, “this is just fine.”
I nodded. But my mind was already racing ahead, imagining a future I had scarcely allowed myself to consider. I thought of Grant holding my hand as we walked down a New York City street, of lounging on a blanket in Central Park, reading for class as he napped peacefully beside me. I knew we were only just beginning, but I couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to be with him until the end.
“I want you to be my first,” I said, chewing the inside of my cheek. “When I’m ready, I want it to be you.”
“No rush,” Grant said, burying his face in my shoulder. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”
AUGUST, TWO YEARS AGO
“You really wanna come?” Mom called from the living room. “Pretty sure I know what you like by now.”
“I haven’t left the house all summer,” I called back. I accidentally turned my head as I spoke, smearing a line of eyeliner from the middle of my eyelid up to my eyebrow.
“Shit.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to stay calm. This should have been easy. I’d been drawing and painting since I was in kindergarten. But nothing was easy, not in this strange in-between time. The hormones I’d been taking hadn’t finished their work yet, and I wouldn’t be old enough for the surgery until next summer.
I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror sitting on my desk. My hair was still short and boyish, though its growth had sped up noticeably thanks to the hormones. My right eye was bare while my left eye was ringed with eye shadow and eyeliner in thick, childish smears. My cheeks were two bright, red circles like an embarrassed anime character. I watched as my mouth screwed up and my eyes started to twitch. I felt tears forming, and I knew that if I let them loose I would have to start all over, but I felt so helpless and stupid that I wondered what the point was in the first place. Mom knocked gently at my door.
“I changed my mind,” I said. I tried to sound calm but it came out as a pathetic whimper.
“You’re crying.”
“I’m f-fine.”
“You can’t lie to me,” she said. “You got ten seconds before I come in there, so if you need to make yourself decent, now’s the time.”
I shuffled over to my bed and slouched on the edge, still sniffling. My cat, Guinevere, padded across the bed and bopped her face into my shoulder, the sound of her purring only just barely lifting my spirits. The door creaked. I watched Mom’s white sandals as she came in. She sat down beside me and her soft, round hand squeezed my shoulder.