Part 18 (2/2)
”I've said it twice.” His fi nger remained on my undies, which were now halfway down one side of my leg.
”Does that mean third time's a charm?” He smiled. I smacked his freckled shoulder and s.h.i.+fted onto my knees to pull on my undies.
”Wait,” he stopped me. ”We don't have to have s.e.x. I don't have a condom anyway. Unless you do.”
”Even if I did, I said no.” My undies were back in place, and I was sitting up. Leo pushed himself up next to me and began kissing my ear.
”Can I still take your pan ties off if I promise we won't have s.e.x to night?”
His hands didn't give me time to answer, and he felt so good I wouldn't have said no anyway. After my undies were somewhere on the fl oor of the car, Leo took my hips and turned me so I was reclin- ing on the seat. He slithered down to where my underwear used to be and placed his hands on either thigh, separating them. I grabbed onto his hair, not hard enough to pull him away from what he was doing but enough to steady myself. Even lying down, I felt like I could fall at any moment. He was masterful at what he did, and I squirmed in painful ecstasy. My head started going to that place where I wondered how he got so skilled, but I willed myself to drown in the moment. I gasped and palmed the car seat, reaching for anything I could before I completely succ.u.mbed. When it was over, I released my grip and my hands cramped. I couldn't move. I couldn't talk. I couldn't think.
-1- That must be what heaven is like.
0- I heard Leo groping around for his clothes, and I opened my
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eyes. He had a, well, me- eating grin on his face, and I was embar- ra.s.sed to look at him after how I completely let go. When we were both dressed, I noticed the clock. ”s.h.i.+t. I have to get home,” I said.
We climbed into the front seat, a Megadeath song playing as I drove Leo back to his house. When we got there, Leo unclicked his seat belt.
I thought he'd slide over for a good- night kiss, but he just said, ”I had a good night.”
”Me, too,” I answered, rus.h.i.+ng home in my head so my mom wasn't worried. I never wanted to call her when I was late, in case she was asleep and my call woke her up. Better to be late without her knowing if at all possible.
There was a pause, both of us wondering what to do. Leo's mom helped us out, calling from the front door. ”Leo? Is that you?”
”And that's why we didn't go back to my house,” Leo said. ”See you Monday.” He got out, and I drove away without looking back.
When I got home, Mom was asleep in her room, and the house was quiet.
I went to my room and dug out my jeans pockets and threw keys, cash, and phone on my desk. There was a text I must have missed during the movie. Or something else. It was from Becca.
I'm dying, was all it said.
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CHAPTER.
17.
I checked the time Becca's message was sent: 9:14. It was cur- rently 12:17. If I texted her back, would I awaken her from a pain- free slumber? What if she were back in the hospital? I had to try.
R U OK? R U dead?
After I sent the text, I turned on my computer and logged onto Skype. Chances were slim that Aunt Judy was still up and waiting for a midnight chat unless she had some seedy secret life I didn't know about. Maybe I would like her better if that were true. Like a Mullets Anonymous group or something.
h.e.l.lo? Come in, Becca. Do you read me, Becca? I typed.
Nothing from either phone or computer.
To calm my nerves I played a video of Troll I downloaded last week. It was such a c.r.a.ppy movie, but the guy who played Atreyu -1- from The NeverEnding Story was in it. And a weird plant lady.
0- I wished I could talk to Becca about what happened with Leo. It
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was exactly the kind of story my s.e.x- obsessed bestie would have been dying to hear every drippy detail of. But instead she was just dying. For a second, I almost felt angry at her, which made me feel like the biggest d.i.c.k in the world. How could I possibly be mad at my best friend when she was sick- possibly dying- with cancer just because I couldn't talk to her about Leo Dietz going down on me?
Shame on me for even allowing a guy down there when Becca was so sick. Is that how she felt when she was doing I don't even want to think about it with Davis? Was this payback in the most disgusting form possible? I wanted to ask G.o.d, to talk to him one- on- one, but I couldn't decide if I even believed in him at the moment. Plus, kind of a weird topic. Death and sickness and s.e.x and so much guilt- where did G.o.d fi t into that?
As my internal moral battle raged, my Skype rang. It was not Aunt Judy and her mullet club but Becca. I scrambled to my desk chair and answered. The view of Becca was a close- up of her bald head resting on a stack of pillows in her bed. She looked tired and pasty.
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