Louder Than Words

by Laurie Plissner

  I shook my head. “EVERYTHING I KNOW I LEARNED FROM YOUR BIRTHDAY SEX BOOK, THE ADVICE COLUMN IN COSMO, AND A FEW ISSUES OF SEVENTEEN MAGAZINE FROM THE EARLY EIGHTIES THAT I FOUND IN THE BASEMENT.”

  “Well you’re a little late to the party, but you’re a quick study, so you should be able to handle it. I’ll condense all my mother’s speeches for you. Just the highlights from the Lucy Harper Book of Life Lessons. Maybe you should take notes. First, don’t have sex until you’re in college, if then. Second, oral sex is risky because you can catch a nasty STD, so don’t think that’s the easy way out.”

  “TMI.”

  “Third, boys will say anything to get you to mess around with them, so don’t believe them when they tell you they love you or they’ll die if you don’t have some kind of sex with them. Fourth, don’t drink or do drugs, because it makes you horny, fucks with your good judgment, and lowers your resistance.”

  “YOUR MOTHER SAID FUCK?” Mrs. Harper was a Sunday school teacher and wore seasonal appliquéd sweaters. Fudge, maybe, but fuck, never.

  “I don’t think my mother even knows what that word means. I just added that part for emphasis. Don’t interrupt—now I’ve lost my place. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Lastly, if a boy really and truly cares about you, he won’t pressure you, because he’ll want to be with you for more than just a few minutes of heavy breathing and pelvic thrusting. Got it?” Jules took a deep breath. “That’s the gospel according to Lucy Harper, PTA treasurer, woman of the world.”

  “SO WHAT DOES THAT LEAVE ME WITH? IS KISSING OKAY? OR WILL I CATCH SOME DISFIGURING DISEASE?”

  This dating thing was far more dangerous than I had ever imagined. Jules had definitely taken the wind out of my sails.

  “I left out my mom’s mono/herpes speech. If she had her wish, I’d go out on dates wearing a body condom, if I went out at all.”

  “SO NO KISSING? WHAT’S THE POINT THEN? I MIGHT AS WELL JUST GO OUT WITH YOU.” Having discovered the earth-shaking sensation of Ben’s tongue in my mouth, I could hardly focus on anything else.

  “You should be so lucky. You have to understand—Lucy’s kind of uptight. And my dad’s a doctor, an infectious disease specialist, no less. It’s a lethal combination. But the way I see it, what’s life without a little risk? I’ve kissed a few guys and I’m still here, so I think making out is fine. Don’t you dare tell the parental units. I’ll be grounded until menopause.”

  “ALL YOUR DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS ARE SAFE WITH ME. BEN LOOKS PRETTY CLEAN ANYWAY, DOESN’T HE?” We could take a shower together, just to make sure …

  “Yes, he strikes me as someone with spectacular hygiene. Personally, I won’t go out with a guy unless he flosses regularly and carries Purell in his pocket.”

  “AND I’M THE ONE WHO’S SUPPOSED TO BE LESS SARCASTIC?”

  “Sorry. Thinking about my parents gets me worked up.” Jules clenched her teeth.

  “NOW I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT BLOOD TESTS AND PETRI DISHES.”

  When I closed my eyes, I could see Ben and me making out, wearing latex gloves and surgical masks. Oddly enough, still hot.

  “Forget that last part. You’re not going to do any more than a little French kissing at most, so I think you’re safe. Really.”

  One minute after noon on Saturday the doorbell rang. Charlotte answered; she had posted herself steps away from the front door. Was she afraid Ben would change his mind and flee? He was definitely prompt—that was a good sign. From my room, I could hear Ben chatting with my aunt and uncle. All perfectly normal, except this was the first time a boy had ever come to pick me up. Standing in front of my mirror, I gave myself a silent lecture. This isn’t any different from all the other times you’ve hung out with him. He must like you if he’s taking you to the City for the whole day. Jules said so, and she knows. Calm down. Your palms are getting sweaty. I took one last look in the mirror. He must be into freaks, because you’re no beauty. Shut up. I’m not saying anything you don’t already know about yourself. Not now. Was I turning into a split personality, on top of everything else?

  “Sasha, Ben’s here.”

  Charlotte could barely contain her excitement about my first foray into the world of normal teenagers. In a way, her enthusiasm made sense. When my parents died, she became responsible for a thirteen-year-old head case. Going out on a real date, with a real boy, was so wonderfully healthy, and like me, Charlotte probably hadn’t believed it would ever happen.

  Ben gave me the once-over. “You look so pretty in real clothes.”

  I nodded and curtsied. Fuck you, mister.

  “That’s what I always tell her. Ben, maybe you’ll be the one to talk Sasha out of her sweats.”

  Charlotte, oblivious to her own double entendre, continued chattering away.

  “I’d love to try, Mrs. Thompson.” He raised his eyebrows in my direction, biting his lip.

  Big talker. Would you like to skip the City and go to a motel? I’m game.

  “Have a wonderful time. Enjoy Manhattan. You must be special, Ben, because she never wants to go to the City with us. Sasha, don’t forget your talkie box.”

  Dutifully, I picked it up off the table; not that I needed it. I kissed Charlotte, and Ben took my hand.

  When we were safely in the car, Ben turned to me. “Your aunt does have a way with a phrase, and you’re the one who’s a big talker. What do you know about motels anyway?”

  In the movies, that’s where people go to have sex during the day.

  “Ah, sounds romantic. Maybe next weekend. I already have today all planned. Or we can do the motel thing on the way home, if you’re still in the mood.” He kissed me, his tongue tickling mine, his hands in my hair.

  That feels so good it hurts. He was kissing my lips, but I could feel it deep inside me. I was aware of every nerve in my body firing in rapid succession, my blood rushing through my veins.

  He lifted his head and looked past me. “Your aunt and uncle are watching us.”

  Both of them? That’s embarrassing. I put my hands over my face.

  “No, it’s not. Charlotte thinks it’s wonderful that you’ve found a boy who appreciates how beautiful and special you are. That’s a direct quote.”

  That’s gross.

  “She’s thinking she’d better have the talk with you, as soon as you get home, based on the way I’m kissing you.”

  That’s even worse. Charlotte’s version of the birds and the bees would likely involve an elaborate explanation of how flowers pollinate.

  “Your mother never explained the facts of life to you?” There was a note of surprise, and maybe a little worry, in his voice.

  You mean the stork? Yeah, I know all about that.

  “Very funny.” He tilted his head. “You do know where babies come from, don’t you?”

  Are you trying to tell me there’s no stork? Then it’s definitely the cabbage patch. Did I come off as such an innocent? Did that mean I was a bad kisser?

  “Ha ha. It’s just that your history is a little unusual, so you could’ve missed a few things.” He started the car, the tires crunching over the gravel driveway, and waved at Charlotte and Stuart, who ducked out of sight. “Don’t be so insecure. I wouldn’t be kissing you if I didn’t like it.”

  I had a big sister, and I have Jules, so I’m not totally clueless.

  An hour later, as we walked through Times Square, I held onto Ben for dear life. New York City was noisy and crowded and overwhelming. But it felt good to be buffeted by the people, to hear Ben shouting at me over the din of the cars and the thousands of voices all babbling at once. I felt alive and excited to find out what was going to happen next. We crossed the street and stopped in front of a theater. The marquee said A Chorus Line.

  “Charlotte told me that this was your favorite show, that you’ve seen it three times. Do you remember?” Ben was watching me carefully, as if looking for some flicker of recognition in my eyes.

  I shook my head. Nothing. Did I even like musicals? Inside the the
ater we settled in our seats—sixth row orchestra. Ben handed me my ticket. “A souvenir.” The price on the ticket was $161.

  These tickets are too expensive. You shouldn’t be spending so much money on me. Jules had said theater tickets were pricey, but this was ridiculous. Upside: anyone who spent that much money had to be expecting something in return.

  “Why not? I think you’re worth it.”

  But a hundred and sixty-one dollars?

  “Don’t worry. I have plenty of money. I worked all last summer. My parents have made some wise investments over the years and published a few books. No one is going without shoes so we can come to the theater.” He draped his arm over my shoulder. Even through my sweater, my skin tingled.

  But even so, I feel funny. Jules said …

  “What did the wise Jules have to say?”

  Ben didn’t know Jules beyond calculus class, and I was a little worried they wouldn’t hit it off if they tried to get to know one another. Each seemed suspicious of the other, as if each were an interloper in the territory that was me. If I wanted them to be friends, I needed to be careful about how I portrayed her to him. But when someone is reading your every thought, diplomacy goes out the window.

  She said that boys expect something in return when they spend money on a girl, and you’re spending a ton of money on me. I wished I hadn’t gone down this road, but there was no way I could keep any secrets from Ben anyway. Was he on his way to hating my best friend? And she said I should never do anything out of obligation.

  “Wise words from your guru. Jules isn’t wrong. Most boys look at a date as the first half of an exchange. He buys dinner, and she’s dessert.” So maybe we would be stopping off at a motel on the way home. “But I’m not like that … and I know that disappoints you a little bit, doesn’t it?”

  Stop showing off. I already know you know what I’m thinking.

  “Sorry, but your mind is like a porn site, and I know that you’re hoping I’ll jump you in the car on the way home.”

  I blushed mightily and looked around, hoping no one had heard that last part. There was an elderly couple in front of us, and I could swear the wife was trying to listen in on our odd one-sided conversation.

  It’s totally unfair. I have to wait for you to tell me what you’re thinking, if you feel like it.

  “So you want me to tell you?”

  Duh. It was like we were playing poker and he could see all my cards—no contest.

  Ben leaned over and whispered, “I think you’re pretty cute. And I didn’t bring you to the theater so you would feel like you owed me. Are we clear?”

  Clear. And a little bummed out. I wanted him to say out loud all the things I was thinking.

  “Don’t worry, we’re thinking exactly the same thing.”

  I guess I have to trust you on that.

  “You do. Anticipation makes it better. I promise.” The lights dimmed, and the music swelled. Shifting in my seat, I wondered how I was going to sit still for the next two hours. “You’ll make it.” He rested his hand lightly on my thigh.

  Not if you leave your hand there.

  “You’re just going to have to suffer, because the hand stays.”

  He moved it up an inch or two for good measure. From the waist down I was on fire, and he thought it was funny. There must be something wrong with me, because Ben seemed totally unflustered, in spite of all the flirting.

  The music must have seeped into my brain, because about ten minutes into the show, I suddenly knew every note. Mouthing the words, I got lost in the story, almost, but not quite, forgetting about Ben’s hand resting on my leg.

  Thank you so much. I did love this show. It’s perfect.

  Closing my eyes for a second I could see my mother, sitting between Liz and me, waiting for the music to start. That second when the theater was so dark I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face, right before the orchestra started to play … it was thrilling and a little bit scary, holding my breath, waiting for that first note. How amazing to feel that again.

  You can’t imagine what this means to me. Although I tried to blink back the tears, one escaped and fell on Ben’s hand. How stupid. I’m sorry. Happy tears, I swear.

  “I know, and it’s not stupid,” he whispered, and he looked at me, his own eyes glistening in the darkness, tenderly kissing my cheek.

  After the curtain went down and the lights went up, we sat quietly as the theater emptied around us. How did you know this would make me remember?

  “I didn’t, but in my own life, so many memories are tied up with music. Charlotte wasn’t sure it was a good idea to bring you. She was afraid it might upset you. But I thought it was worth a shot. You’re not that unstable, and every little thing you remember is another piece of your puzzle back in place.”

  Although he wasn’t asking me directly, he clearly wanted to know if the show had triggered anything significant. But other than a few flashes of a trip to the theater five years earlier, there was nothing major. It would take more than sequins, top hats, and catchy lyrics to fix me, but it was a thoughtful gesture.

  Every little bit helps. One of these days. He nodded encouragingly and squeezed my knee.

  As we strolled through the lobby, Ben insisted on buying me a souvenir T-shirt and coffee mug. “If that feeling starts slipping away, put on the shirt and drink out of the mug, and you’ll remember the excitement you felt when the lights first went out.”

  I don’t need a shirt to jog my memory. I’ll never forget that feeling ever again.

  “What about that feeling you had when my hand was on your thigh?” Ben put his arm around my waist as he steered me along the crowded sidewalk to our next destination.

  I still have that, but you know that already, don’t you? You want me to tell you how much I liked it? Is that it?

  My face must have been scarlet, and I was perspiring in my wool tights, even though the temperature was barely above freezing.

  “Pretty much. I love that you’re so innocent but you’re so …” His hand strayed down my skirt and he patted my rear end.

  I think horny’s the word you’re looking for. Our conversations were so open, which probably would never happen if I actually had to say those kinds of things out loud. What girl would ever have the nerve to tell a guy she was horny? As fearless as Jules was, I doubt even she had ever been so candid with a boy.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t take credit for that. You’re ready—I just happened to come along at the right time. Lucky me.”

  But it is you. It would be unimaginable to feel that way all the time, unconnected to any particular person. How awful—like an itchy rash that wouldn’t go away. It’s not just hormones. I think I can tell the difference, in spite of my lack of experience.

  “You need to start thinking about something else, because we’re both thinking the same thing, and every time I look at you, I want to kiss you.” We were standing at a corner, waiting to cross, surrounded by a swarm of humanity, but Ben seemed oblivious, saying these incredibly intimate things.

  A middle-aged woman in jeans up to her neck and a Big Apple sweatshirt turned to me and said, “Young lady, you need to hang on to that boy. In forty years, Vern has never talked to me like that.”

  She grimaced and gestured at the man next to her. In a Budweiser cap and NASCAR jacket, he didn’t look like a master of seduction. As if to prove her point, he opened his mouth, simultaneously burping and revealing half a dozen gray teeth tilted every which way, like headstones in a neglected graveyard.

  As usual, I just nodded. Ben laughed. “Thank you, ma’am. I hope she listens to you.”

  The light changed and we crossed in unison, moving like a vast school of fish. Your smooth talk even works on the bingo crowd. Impressive.

  Ben sighed. “That did it. Thinking about Vern and his wife in their double-wide doing the nasty—I’m cured, at least for a little while.” His hand started to cup my butt again, but I swatted it away.

  I’m glad you f
ind my skirt so appealing, but if you keep touching me like that, I’m going to melt inside these clothes. I’m officially changing the topic. Where are we going?

  “Our reservation isn’t for another couple of hours, and we’re too young to hang out in a bar, so we’re going to wander around.”

  Ten minutes later we walked through the Art Deco doors of the Empire State Building. I’ve never been here before. You’re an excellent tour guide.

  “You’ll always remember your first trip to the top. Even if you can’t figure out everything that happened in your life before, you can still make all kinds of new memories. And I have lots of good ideas.”

  Oh really. Back seats, motels, secluded beaches …

  “And not all of them involve being alone with you—I swear.”

  Standing behind me at the back of the crowded elevator, Ben slipped his hands under my coat and ran them across the front of my skirt, pulling me against his hips. “Sorry about that. You’re pushing against me, and it just happened.” His lips were next to my ear, and between whispers he nipped at my earlobe.

  I should slap you for that. The people in front of me are pushing me back against you. I can’t help it. And you’re pulling me. What I really wanted to do was turn around and climb him like a koala bear in a eucalyptus tree.

  “So you don’t like it when I do this?” His hand slid under my sweater, stroking my bare skin.

  Stop it. I was so lightheaded I thought I would faint.

  “It’s a long elevator ride, and you’re standing in front of me, so close you’re practically behind me. What else am I supposed to do?” His breath was quick in my ear.

  Talk about the weather? School? You don’t have to put your tongue in my ear at every opportunity.

  The elevator came to a stop suddenly, my stomach catching up with it a second later. Ben quickly pulled his hands from under my clothes.

  “I kind of do. Come on. We definitely need some fresh air.”

  The winter wind whipped at our faces as we looked at the City spread out below us, sparkling jewels sprinkled on black velvet. How many millions of people were behind all those lights? For the first time in I don’t know how long, I thought about the rest of the world—that with or without my disability, I could be a part of it. In fact, I wanted to be a part of it. Like a flower blossoming after a very long winter, I felt renewed. Perhaps it was just the surge of adrenaline I experienced every time Ben touched me, or the effect of his powerful pheromones, but whatever the cause, it felt like I was on the precipice of something wonderful, and I was excited.