Numbers

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I lay back on the blanket, instinctively crossing my arms over my tits. He was trying to touch me there, to kiss me. I knew my arms were fending him off, I didn’t want to, it was just so difficult. If we were going to do this, I told myself, I’d have to trust him, to let him in. I made myself lift up my arms, right over my head, so my hands were resting on the hay behind me. It was a willful act – I was laying myself open to him. He responded eagerly, kissing, nibbling, and sucking. It was wonderful. And shocking. It was too new and too weird, and I found myself stepping away in my mind. I became an observer, and the absurdity of us naked in a smelly barn, the bizarre sensations all over my skin, inside me, the tension of it all, forced stuttering laughter out of my mouth.

Spider stopped what he was doing and looked up at me. His face was deadly serious – I’d never seen him so serious.

“You’re laughing.”

“No.” But I couldn’t hold down my nervous giggles.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, ’course not. It’s just…I’m just…not used to it. I’m sorry.” The laughter drained away as I saw how hurt he was.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ve never done this before. I’m nervous. It’s fine. Come here.” I wasn’t far from crying now, all my emotions way too near the surface. I drew him down to me, kissing him tenderly, urging him with my mouth to kiss me back. It was better when we were kissing. We relaxed in the softness of each other’s mouths, the wetness. It brought me back into my body. I was there with him again.

He caressed me and stroked me, nervous energy trembling out of the ends of his fingers. He fumbled in the dark, and we did it. We really did it – there, on an itchy blanket, with the dust from the hay and the smell of cow shit in our nostrils. The hay bales beneath us may have rocked a bit, but the earth didn’t move. It was awkward, mechanical – all over in a minute or so – not worth worrying about. But afterward, we were different. Not because of the sex, because of the closeness, the intimacy. We covered ourselves up as much as we could with the two blankets and the old green coat, and huddled together. The rain had washed away his sour smell, there was only a slight comforting muskiness as I nestled into him, with my head on his chest.

“Have you done that before?” I asked.

“Yeah, ’course. Loads of times.” His lie hung in the air. “Well, once, anyway.” I waited. “OK, I’ve done it once now. With you.”

I smiled, and held him closer.

Even then, after all that, he was still fizzing with energy, his hands so restless. He was running his fingers through my short, short hair, while the other hand moved over my arm, my stomach, my side. He shifted over so we were face-to-face, and softly traced the line of my jaw with his finger.

“Funny, you seem more like a girl with your hair short. Can see your face.” He kissed my forehead, my nose, my chin, down in a line. “Your pretty face.”

No one had ever called me pretty before. I’m fairly sure no one had ever thought it, either.

“I thought I told you never to say anything nice to me.”

He snorted. “Oh, yeah, I promised, didn’t I? That doesn’t count, though.”

“Why not? A promise is a promise, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but that was before I fell in love with you.”

It was too much, too new. I reacted how I always had. I said the thing I always said.

“Fuck off!”

“OK, forget it.” His hurt was so intense it was physical, a black moon hanging over us where we lay.

Oh, my God, what had I done?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to behave.”

“It’s alright, Jem.” But he’d let go of me, moved away.

“No, it isn’t. I’m an idiot.” If I’d said it back to him, there and then, if I’d said I loved him. If…if…if.

Without his warmth, the blanket was hopelessly inadequate, and the cold that had been lurking in my hands and feet spread all over me, making me shiver violently. I sat up and began to cast about for my clothes, cursing yet again our lack of a flashlight. Whatever I found, I put on, no bra or panties, only one sock, and that felt like Spider’s, a sweater, my jeans; the rest would have to wait until there was some light. A few feet away, Spider was doing the same. It felt like something was over between us. I’d killed it with my big mouth.

I curled up, but even with some clothes on, I was chilled right through. When you think about it, if you’re going to dance around in the rain with your clothes off in December, and then roll about in a barn, butt-naked, you’re going to get cold, aren’t you? I guess being hungry didn’t help, either. I could hear Spider shifting about as he bedded down. He sighed. Could have been just breathing out, but to me there was frustration, anger, sadness in that sigh. I wanted to reach out to him, but was frightened he’d just shrug me off.

We lay there in silence. Behind us, even the cows were quieter. They’d settled down in the hay and their own filth and were just gently chewing and breathing. I was too cold to sleep, and there was no way I could even try with this wall of silence between us. I needed him.

“Are you awake?” I whispered, my voice nearly disappearing in the darkness of the huge barn.

“Yeah.”

“I’m freezing.”

“I know. Me, too.” A pause. A long, long pause. “Come here, then.”

I shuffled over to him as he turned over. He wrapped one of his long arms around my shoulders and I snuggled into him.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “For earlier.”

“It’s fine, Jem, shut up. It’s in the past.”

“Yeah, but…I didn’t mean to say it. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know. It’s alright. We’re alright. Lovers’ tiff, eh?” He kissed the end of my nose, moved down to my mouth, and suddenly it was alright again.

And as we breathed in each other’s breath and I buried my hands in his spongy hair, I thought, Lovers, yes, we’re lovers now. We came up for air and lay cuddling. My hands were still cold, and he took them and slid them under his clothes onto the bare skin of his chest and stomach to warm them up.

“Wouldn’t it be good if you could start again?” I said. “I feel like my life’s screwed up before I’ve even got started.”

“Tell me about it.” He turned over to face me again, and my hands moved around him, my arms enclosing him. “But we are starting again, Jem. If I hadn’t met you, it probably would have been dope and pills and smoking crack and shooting up junk. Prison. Hospitalization. That’s how it would have been for me, but you saved me from that. It’s going to be different for us now.”

I dug my fingernails into his back, felt the tears burning my eyes.

“Ow! What’s that for? Leaving your mark on me?”

“No, just holding you tight.” And he held me, too, and we had sex again, only it was making love this time, slow and tender. And I didn’t just lie there, I was part of it: moving and kissing, stroking and sighing. It was like I was someone else, but I wasn’t. This was me, the real me, and Spider was the only person ever to have found me, to see me for who I was. And I saw him, too. He was beautiful.

Afterward, I lay in the crook of his arm, my hand resting on his chest, and he was still, not a twitch or a tremor. We were peaceful and calm together, and I fell asleep with his warm breath on my face and his heart beating next to mine.