She pulls off the antennae. I kick off my shoes.
She stares at me for a long moment; then my heart leaps into my throat as she slowly pulls her leotard down, revealing her smooth skin underneath. Her eyes never leave mine, the electricity between us growing and growing until I can hardly stand the space separating us.
Soon we’re standing in just our underwear, all of the old parts of us stripped away. Her soft buttery-yellow underwear clings to her hips, her breasts. I’m dying to touch her, but I don’t dare. We’ve never been alone like this, never even talked about it. Anything that happens next is up to her.
So I wait. But I can’t stop my eyes from drinking her in. She’s beautiful.
“I’ve… I’ve never done this before,” she says softly.
I pull my eyes up to meet hers. “We don’t have to. Marley—”
“I want to,” she says. Her cheeks flush bright red the second the words are out. Her gaze, though, is steady. Certain.
“With you,” she continues, stepping closer, her eyes moving shyly over my body as she explores my arms, my neck, my chest. I’m sure she can feel my heart pounding under her fingers, practically exploding beneath her touch.
“I’m dying here,” I say as her hands travel down, over by abdomen.
“I—I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispers, looking up at me, unsure for the first time.
“You’re killing me, that’s what you’re doing,” I say as I inhale sharply.
We start laughing, some of the nervous tension melting away. I pull her close, her arms wrapping around my neck, her fingers lacing into my hair.
“You sure this is okay?” I ask. I want to be sure. I want her to be sure.
“Yes, I…” Her grip tightens in my hair, her pupils large in the pale-yellow glow of the light. “I love…，” she starts to say, but her voice trails off. She kisses me softly, barely a whisper on my lips. “I love… it,” she says, finally resting her head against mine.
I stare at her lips, our breath mingling between us. The entire world fades away except for her. I hold her face in my hands, my thumbs gently moving along her cheeks, understanding.
“I love it, too,” I whisper back, knowing what it means. Knowing I feel the same.
She pulls my face down for a kiss, and I pick her up, her legs twining around my waist. I carry her down the hall and open the basement door, and soon the last things that keep us apart fall away.
* * *
Hours later, the darkness gives way to the sound of shrieking metal, rain hammering noisily on the roof of a car. My eyes fly open and I see a huge hole in my windshield, rain pouring through it onto me, soaking my clothes, soaking the seat under me.
I see the disco ball wrapped around the mirror, red lights bouncing off it, making the falling rain look red.
Like blood.
I try to move, try to get out, but I’m stuck, pinned in.
“Help!” I try to scream, but nothing comes out.
I claw at my seat belt, the sound of a ringing phone pulling my attention to the center console, where a cell vibrates, inching its way toward me. My heart stops when I see the name on the screen.
KIM CALLING
My eyes fly open. I frantically look around. I’m in my room, in my bed.
But knowing it was only a nightmare doesn’t stop my breath from coming out in ragged gasps. As I calm down, I hear the wind whipping on the other side of the window. It whistles across the glass, low and creepy, the perfect soundtrack for a nightmare. It was just my fucked-up head again. This time, though, I know it’s just a dream.
Marley’s pressed against my back, warm and comforting. I let the final touch of fear and panic fade in a long sigh of relief.
Behind me, Marley burrows closer, her warmth soothing me even more. I roll over to pull her closer and feel an icy grip tighten on my lungs.
It’s Kimberly. We’re nose to nose. Her breath tickles my face. Warm. I reel back, but her hands clench around my arms, keeping me close to her.
“Don’t do this. Don’t let go,” she says to me urgently.
“No!” I scream, and sit bolt upright. I struggle to catch my breath, my chest heaving. I feel her move behind me. I shove her away.
“Kyle. Hey, what’s going on?” I hear her. I smell her.
It’s not Kimberly.
“It’s okay,” she whispers. It’s not Kim.
Orange blossoms and jasmine. Marley. I open my eyes and take in her face, the familiar freckles, the soft curve of her jaw, and her delicate lips.