“In the morning, I’d pretend to be sick…nah, I’d probably be sick in the morning and use the excuse to get my friends who stayed the night out ASAP. Where would you have been?”
This question is easy. “At home. Alone. I would have called you the moment I saw Jamie’s car leave.”
Autumn smiles, pleased either by my contribution to the narrative or by my obsessive nature, I’m not sure which.
“Okay,” Autumn says. “Over the phone, through the pain of our blinding headaches, we’d stammer confirmations of last night’s heartfelt whispers, offer more detailed explanations of our true desires. One of us ends up over at the other’s house and…” She motions with her hand to our current situation, and we smile. “I mean, that’s about it.”
“But remember, someone saw something the night before,” I prompt.
Autumn yawns.
“Well, of course we’d each have to break up to be together. The story of whatever suspicious thing was seen at the party would get spread and exaggerated. There’s no avoiding that chapter. We’d be the center of a scandal, ostracized for being cheaters. Or I don’t know… Everyone likes you, so maybe it wouldn’t have been that rough for you?”
As glad as I am that Autumn would have broken up with Jamie for me and faced whatever consequences came next, I’m still distracted that she continues to deftly avoid saying Sylvie’s name while we’ve both casually referenced Jamie. This is why I must break up with Sylvie today. Can’t she see that?
“I wish all that had happened,” I tell her. “I wish we’d had that time together and today was another regular day for us.”
Autumn’s gaze finds mine again, and she repeats my words to her. “Everything is going to be okay. We’re together now, right?”
“I love you.” How many times have I said that? Surely it will be annoying soon?
“I love you too, Finny,” Autumn says and pokes my nose. “While we’re talking about unsaid things, you haven’t secretly been wishing that I call you Finn?”
“Nah,” I say. “Finn is how I think of myself, but that’s what I like about you calling me Finny. It’s special.”
“Even though The Mothers call you that too?”
I poke her nose, and now I’m the one repeating her words. “It’s different when you say it.”
“Finny.” Autumn kisses me again and then again hungrily. A few minutes later, she breathes in my ear, “We have time, don’t we? Can we just—”
We have just enough time, but it’s getting harder to resist making love to her again, so I decide to buy condoms tonight.
Afterward, I ask her if she wants to join me in the shower. Autumn blushes and hides her face in her hands. We’re lying on our sides, tangled together still.
“Autumn?”
She says something behind her hands.
“I can’t hear you, beloved.”
I’m surprised by the term of endearment. I’ve never used it before in my life, but it’s fallen from my mouth naturally, and I wonder if it’s going to become a habit.
“I’m too shy,” she says. “I can’t take a shower with you.”
“We’re…already naked?” We’ve been in my bed together for hours.
“But there’s water in a shower!” Autumn says, and I decide that this is one of those times when her brain is wired differently.
“Okay,” I say. “Showers are a level of intimacy we can work our way up to.”
“Might take a while,” she says into my bare chest.
I can’t hold back a small chuckle. I run my fingers down her back one last time, and she shivers in a way that almost tempts me to stay after all.
“We have forever,” I whisper into her hair, and then I wonder if forever is too much for her.
Autumn raises her face and grins at me.
“Okay,” she says. “You’re right.”
We lock our lips together deeply, then I kiss her forehead and climb out of bed. She doesn’t follow me as I gather my clothes. She stays in bed and watches me. I give her a quizzical look.
“I can’t get dressed in front of you,” she says. “That’s too awkward.”
I pause, trying to decide how to ask my first question, but then I laugh and say, “I love you, Autumn.”
And somehow, she isn’t tired of hearing it yet.
fourteen
When I come back from the shower, Autumn’s confidence in our future is gone. She’s sitting on the center of my bed, curled up tight in her rumpled clothes and finger-combed hair. She looks wild and elven—and scared.