Chapter 23 #2
Alex opens his mouth, probably to ask a follow-up question, but I rush in and say, “We’re in a book club together,” just to make sure our story stays consistent.
The last thing I need is for Kimiko to say something different and Helen to frown and catch us in our lie.
Besides, it’s not like it’s a big lie. It’s just a little white lie.
A tiny, existence-preserving, little white lie.
“Should we start? Who wants to go first?” I say to change the subject. Alex doesn’t immediately move, and I allow Kimiko and Helen to go ahead.
When I look back at Alex, he’s staring at me like he’s never seen me before.
“A book club,” he repeats flatly.
“Remember, I started going twice a month on Thursdays?”
“You said that was a club meeting.”
“Yeah—book club,” I insist. Kimiko screams excitedly over her hole in one and calls us over because it’s our turn.
I feel Alex’s eyes on me as I swing, which unnerves me enough that it takes me five swings to get the ball in.
Alex gets it in two, silent and stoic and—I don’t understand why—seemingly upset, and then we’re on to the next hole.
As Helen gears up to swing, Alex walks over to me.
I feel a moment of relief—maybe I’m imagining his weirdness.
“You hate reading,” Alex mutters. I blink up at him, thrown for a second as I adjust to the fact that we’re not past this, apparently.
“I don’t hate reading,” I argue, but I feel threads beginning to unravel. Have I told him I hate reading? That’s usually something I keep to myself out of embarrassment.
My heart rate skyrockets—I must have told him at some point. We have spent countless nights lying in bed, talking about everything under the sun. Why wouldn’t I have told him?
Fuck.
I try to walk it back, amending, “I mean, I’m not a huge reader—honestly, I don’t even read most of the books the club picks. I just go for the free food and gossip.”
“What book are you guys reading?”
I blanch, trying to remember what books were big in 2012. It doesn’t need to be a new book, does it? It could be a classic. I know plenty of classic books—
“You’re up, Joey,” Kimiko calls out.
Saved by the bell. I walk up to the tee and feign nonchalance as I say, “Alex was just asking what book we’re reading this month. I forgot the title—what was it again?”
“Gone Girl,” she says without missing a beat, and I could almost kiss her because she chose a book I can actually talk about.
Well, I can talk about the movie. But that doesn’t come out until 2014.
I manage to get the ball in after only three swings this time. Alex gets a hole in one. Kimiko shoots me a look as we silently walk to the next hole, and I realize I’m not the only one picking up on his weirdness.
This is the tensest game of mini-golf I’ve ever played in my life.
It’s strange, because it kind of feels like mini-golf is, by nature, something that relieves tension rather than creating it. There’s a plastic castle looming over us, for Christ’s sake.
“Gone Girl, huh?” Alex says as Helen struggles to get her ball in.
I offer him a short, tight nod and ask, “Have you read it?”
“Yeah, I read that one. What did you think?”
Why do I feel like he’s testing me?
“Haven’t started it yet. Like I said, I mostly go for the food and gossip.
” I shrug. Alex doesn’t immediately respond, and we descend into a long silence.
I realize this is one of the few awkward silences we’ve had together—maybe the only one—and I’m utterly baffled because I can’t figure out why he’s having such a strong reaction.
It doesn’t seem like I’m going to get an answer anytime soon, because Kimiko breaks the silence by announcing that she’s inviting herself to the End of the World party Helen told her about.
She pulls me aside and promises she’ll keep an eye on Helen—she remembers everything I told her and wants to help.
I’m torn between knowing I could use the help and wanting to keep Kimiko as far away from Helen and Alex as possible.
But Helen seems so excited, I don’t say anything.
I’m just grateful that Alex finally stops chipping away at my lie.
But he doesn’t return to normal, even though he goes through the motions of playing the game.
Kimiko wins by far.
I lose, also by far.
I can’t get myself to care too much about mini-golf when all I can think about is what is going on with Alex.
Alex is silent as we walk back to his dorm room that evening. I replay our mini-golf outing again and again in my head, trying to figure out what happened. Is this really about my book club fib? When he closes the door to his room, I turn and ask, “Are we okay?”
He deflects. “Why wouldn’t we be okay?”
“You know, it’s funny, I’m wondering the same thing,” I say sardonically.
He pierces me with his gaze. Seems to weigh his words carefully. Then finally says, “If you think we’re okay, then we’re okay.”
“Well, okay, then,” I say.
“Okay, then,” he repeats.
I want to laugh. This sounds like the complete opposite of okay.
“So, what now?” I ask as I sit down on his bed.
He tilts his head, considering. Staring down at me, eyes locked on mine. I watch as his expression heats, his eyes darkening. I know what’s coming, but I’m still surprised when he says:
“Now I want to fuck you until my name is the only one you can remember.”
Oh.
I don’t know what to say to that. It’s such a one-eighty from his mood the entire evening. There’s an adult, logical part of my brain that says we should maybe wait until we’ve had an actual conversation and cleared the air.
Then there’s the rest of me that is quickly turning the adult, logical part to putty.
Breathlessly, I say, “Okay.”
He stalks forward, lowering himself so he’s crouched on top of me, one knee on the bed between my legs. We kiss slowly, languidly, pulling apart only when he takes my top off, then unbuttons my pants. Before I know it, I’m naked and he’s still fully dressed.
He returns to standing and takes me in. The urge to cover myself comes, but I resist, just lean back, propping myself up with my hands behind me. I watch him watch me. His eyes glide over my body slowly, his attention so rapt that I can almost feel it like a physical touch.