“Rude! But fine. I won’t say it. Just know I’m thinking it.” She grins at me, and I feel a little bit of the weight on my shoulders lessen. “So, I’m guessing since you’re here instead of there with him this means you didn’t get freaky, as you so immaturely put it?”
“Right. I was completely in control of my emotions and able to calmly put a stop to it before it went too far.”
She coughs. “You panicked.” And coughs again.
I bump her shoulder. “Yes, fine, okay?! I completely spiraled. I tripped my way out of his apartment and promised I’d bake him a cake. I’m a complete mess.”
“A little bit, but that’s why we love you. So tell me what happened from beginning to end.”
I do. I tell her about tearing the poster （she laughs like a hyena and I don’t appreciate it at all） and then I tell her about going back to his apartment and how he’s seen me naked （oh gosh, I totally forgot about that part until just now） and then I tell her about the stripping and how I cut it off. At that point, she pinches me hard under the arm.
“OW! What was that for?!”
“For running out on him mid-striptease!” Her cheeks are seriously red. She’s so mad at me.
“Don’t say striptease like that. You make it sound like there was gyrating and helicoptering of clothing.”
She shakes her head. “Next time there should be. Oh my gosh, a man like Nathan Donelson giving you a striptease! And you stopped him! How are you my sister?”
“I’m going to go wake up Doug and tell on you if you don’t stop being so creepy.”
“Doug would back me up! I’m genuinely mad at you. I need a minute.”
I raise my eyebrows and fold my arms, waiting for my sister to calm down from her conniption fit. Finally, she takes in a deep breath and releases it. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“You good?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Great, now can we stop making this about you, please? Because I’m on the brink of a big life decision here and sort of need your support.”
“Fine, yes, I’m sorry. Proceed.” She tightens the pink tie of her robe primly like she wasn’t just encouraging me to turn Nathan into a Chippendale dancer.
“I think…I think I want to rip up my rules and see what happens between me and Nathan. You know, what do the hip kids say nowadays? Go with the flow? I’m sick of being just friends with him. I’m ready to hope for more.”
Lily raises her hands like she’s sitting in church and the Holy Spirit really spoke to her. “Praise be. We’ve all been waiting long enough!”
I close my eyes and finally let my mind race back to that moment in his living room. It’s time to dissect every tiny feature of his face to make sure I’m making the right decision. I use this memory to track the movements of his body, not out of desire （though that’s there too）， but like I’m studying a new language, trying to decipher its meaning.
In this recollection, Nathan doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t look away from me once when I ask him to remove everything protecting him and stand in front of me exposed. There’s trust in his eyes. I use the fancy CIA-level surveillance system in my brain to zoom in on his skin. ENHANCE! Chill bumps line his arms. But then, lastly, when he looks up at me while helping with my heels, his hand wraps around my ankle—there, I pause the image and point to the screen—in his face is the look of a man with feelings. I’m not sure how big those feelings are, but they are right there on the surface.
I open my eyes, courage filling me up like a balloon. I can’t hide from risk anymore or I’m going to be sitting all by myself inside these protective walls—lonely and disappointed—for the rest of my life.