“Don’t change for anyone, Victoria,” she told me as if I were intending to. “Now get out of my car, you whatever-you-ares.”
I unlocked the house with the key I was grateful to have remembered. It was different to be with Ashlinn in the living room with light. Everything had been calm and illuminated by the moon until it exploded into a trip to New York, but this felt average. It didn’t seem like a situation she belonged in. This was real life. What if we ran out of things to talk about? Or if I lost whatever sparked her interest in me? I couldn’t deal with a life consisting of the sound of forks against plates, like what I shared with Mother.
The cross-body bag got tossed next to my school one where it sat in the corner. I think she noticed my wariness as we stood facing each other right inside my entryway because, like the wonderful person she is, she just said “Star Wars.”
“What?”
“Star Wars. You expected me to know about movies, and that’s one I basically get the whole plot of. Siblings that kiss. Talking metal men. There’s some crazy stuff going on in the films you guys watch.”
It was absolutely absurd and completely gorgeous.
“Why that movie?”
“I’ve had to concoct a lot of dreams based on it.”
That made sense. I grabbed her hands in mine and began swinging our arms, not for any reason other than that I could.
“I always pretended to hate that series growing up because my dad loved it more than most things. It was funny when he’d get angry over me insulting it.”
“Very devious of you,” she said, then stood on her tiptoes and leaned toward my face.
For a second it seemed like she was making to kiss me on the mouth, and all my limbs locked in place, confused, but instead her lips landed straight on the tip of my nose.
“Okay?” she questioned. “Sorry, I probably should have asked first.”
“No, that was nice.”
I didn’t meet her eyes. A part of me was hoping I’d never get used to this, that her affection would amaze me every time.
“Well, I was promised a blanket fort and some popcorn. Shall we?”
She released my hands and looked at me as if awaiting directions. After regrouping for a few seconds, I sent her around to grab every blanket and pillow she could find on this floor, telling her to open closets and dismantle couches, while I began searching for popcorn in the cabinets.
As it popped she walked past the kitchen with two blankets balanced on her head and another dragging on the floor behind her like the train of a gown. There were so many pillows stacked up in her arms I don’t know how she could see over them at all. Sheets were stuffed in randomly among everything else and looked like they were getting ready to tangle in her legs.
“At least if you trip, you have something soft to land on.” I laughed, grabbing half of the pillows.
In an attempt to remove the blanket from her head, I just ended up pulling it over her eyes. She shook it off like a disgruntled puppy would, and I did my best not to look as endeared as I felt. A weak facade. I never claimed to be an actor, only a dancer.
She began her journey to the living room yet again and I followed. After dumping the beginnings of our cushiony cocoon, the microwave beeped and I ran back to get the popcorn.
“It’s not much of a meal—”
“It’s perfect. Do you realize how amazing that smells? Humans don’t know how lucky they are.”
Her wonder was completely unbridled and utterly contagious. The popcorn did smell nice, but honestly her appreciation of it made any other pleasantness pale in comparison. I placed the bowl far away on the floor and looked at the lump of blankets. We were going to need a game plan for how to go about arranging them into a fort.
“Ever had a sleepover before?” I asked while grabbing one side of a crocheted orange quilt. She grabbed the other end so we could pull it over the couch.
“My entire life is a sleepover. I have inadvertently ‘slept over’ at most everyone’s house at one point or another.”
“You know perfectly well that doesn’t count. We’re going to have a proper sleepover. The blanket-fort-movie combo is a good start. Next we’re gonna need ‘would you rather’ and scary stories. By the end of the night, our bras will probably end up in the freezer.”
Her eyes widened at the thought. We laid a blanket over the couch and stacked pillows on top in an attempt to anchor it.
“Are you sure you even know what happens at a sleepover? I’ve seen some crazy things in the minds of teenage girls, but frozen undergarments tend to stay out of it.”
“I’ve seen lots of movies that have sleepovers in them, so close enough. And I spent a lot of time sleeping over at Ellie’s back in middle school. We mainly just watched marathons of Law & Order in her basement.”
I folded the other end of the quilt over a chair, and she mirrored that on her end. Then we draped blankets over the top so they covered every side except for an opening in the front that we’d be able to view the television through. The remainder of the blankets and pillows got shoved into the fort. With an outstretched arm I gestured for her to enter.
“Ladies first.”
She curtsied, then crawled inside, and I clumsily followed with popcorn in tow after putting in the DVD and grabbing every remote. There wasn’t a great deal of room, but we managed to sit a few inches apart in opposite corners with our backs to the foot of the couch.
“Get pumped up for this masterpiece you are about to witness. The makeup is excessive and the musical numbers are unnecessary.”
She glanced over at me. “Stop making excuses for the thing if you love it so much.”
And with that I shrugged and pressed Play.
Ten
ASHLINN WAS completely absorbed from the second the 20th Century Fox logo popped up in glorious Technicolor. I didn’t have the heart to fast-forward through the opening credits. Not staring at her was difficult. There’s only so long you can look at someone out of the corner of your eye without going dizzy, so I allowed my head to tilt toward hers as I watched her wonderment. It was humbling to know that someone who could bring about so many miracles was thrilled by one of our silly entertainments.
When “You Were Meant for Me” began playing, I could see she was being sucked in by the overly cheesy romanticism of it all. The tone changed for that single scene, and blue light emanating from the screen bathed our little sanctuary in an aqueous glow. Usually I would be bored by that particular dance, but watching her watch it was invigorating.
She had been gradually inching closer to my side, so I eased her journey and sidled up to her. Ashlinn’s head took no time to find its way to my shoulder after that, and by the next scene, my arms were around her. During the following number, she used me as a backrest instead of the couch, and my legs were curled around her waist like a belt. No one had ever allowed me to get so close before, and it was already an addiction.
Each long song seemed to stretch into the next millennium, and time ran like dripping honey. I wrapped myself tighter around her, and she squeezed my arm, still completely absorbed in the action onscreen. There were flappers and mobsters and colors so bright it was obviously right after the time of black-and-white cinema. The film concluded with a kiss, and when the credits began rolling, Ashlinn unwrapped my legs and arms from where they were around her and spun in my lap so her heady grin was now pointed in my direction.
“That was brilliant,” she told me, and I wondered if she could get any more perfect.
“So are you,” I responded, and she rewarded me with another tiny kiss on the nose.
“Where’d the popcorn go?”
I looked around and saw it spread on the floor like a lumpy constellation.
“It appears we spilled it, must’ve been during the maneuvering. That won’t be fun to clean up later.”
I kicked the toppled bowl farther away—there was only so much more damage to be done at that point—and brushed away the popcorn. The mess could
be dealt with later, maybe the next morning. As long as I got it before Mother came home, I’d be good.
I had no idea what the time of day was and couldn’t see out the curtained windows from the fort. Dragging her down with me, I lay back so her head was on my chest. Our feet stuck out of the front.
The credits rolled on in the background, and we both stared at the blanket ceiling above. I loved holding her in my arms, but everything seemed to be working out too well. There had to be a catch-22. Things never just sorted themselves out in my life. She sighed contentedly and drew lazy circles over my hand with her fingers.
“Is this truly enough for you?” I whispered, not wanting to ruin the mood enveloping the moment.
“Of course it is. More than enough.”
“You don’t want sex? You don’t mind not kissing me?”
She turned her head and gave me a kiss on the clavicle. “I just did.”
“You know what I mean.”
Ashlinn was silent, then rolled off me and turned onto her stomach. With arms crossed beneath, her gaze raked over my appearance.
“I’d be happy to just watch movie musicals with you for the rest of eternity. Sex doesn’t faze me. Too much of my time has been spent building obscene situations for it to freak me out at all. Being a voyeur to the minds of unconscious civilians has proven a great many things, and one of them is my sexuality.”
She stopped talking and pondered for a bit. Her words were slow and seemingly hard to come by. “I guess I’m just more interested in other stuff.”
“Other stuff?”
“Well, this is nice, the cuddling. And I like holding your hand and leaning against you. It appears contact is something we both like. I refuse to be pressured into sex, and I don’t want to disappoint you, but it seems like that’s not really something you want either.”
“No, I don’t think it is.”
The idea of sex was vaguely repugnant and not having to squash those thoughts immediately was pleasant and brought a smirk to my face. She liked being in my arms, and I liked wrapping them around her. This would work.
I began to run my fingers through her short, coarse hair. She all but melted into my touch. Bringing her head back down to my chest, I continued the soothing action and was grateful her hair wasn’t long enough to get messed up under my ministrations.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Adored. Also a bit like a cat.”
If she were one, she’d be a panther.
“How do you feel?” she asked in return.
“Understood.”
We lay there, just breathing the same air and savoring that we had found each other, even though the universe laid so much in our way. Our shared need for intimacy without sex brought back an idea I had seen in the documentary all those days ago, but I was wary about broaching the subject. Caring for her and having her return the favor sounded like a lovely thing to build a relationship on, but fear did have a habit of getting out of control in my head once it began, so I kept quiet.
My hands had stopped their exploration of her head without my realizing it, and she gave a soft grunt of frustration.
“That was nice. I think I was almost asleep,” she began, but stopped at seeing my face. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I want to make you happy. I have some ideas, but they could all be stupid, and I have no way of figuring that out. There are things I want, even though there’s not much of a reason to, and things I should want that I don’t. I’m just trying to work it all out.”
“I have had the privilege of sorting through an abundance of stupid ideas, some of which have belonged to you. Try me. Nothing could possibly be as idiotic as what got me out here to begin with.” Her face was pressed into my chest, which muffled her already drowsy words.
My answer didn’t seem to want to come out. I turned my head to the side and began examining the foot of the couch we were lying diagonal to.
“I was thinking tomorrow I could…,” I began, but the sentence halted of its own accord.
She urged me on with a muttered “Yes?” and a tap on the stomach.
“I was thinking I could bathe you tomorrow morning. You know, like couples do, but without the sexy bits. Just being close to one another.”
I hardly breathed the end of the sentence, ashamed of the admission for some reason. The self-consciousness vanished when my eyes were met with a pair full of amazement. It was as if I’d offered to fly her to the moon and back in a Ferrari-brand ship.
“That sounds perfect. Do please have ideas more often and share them frequently,” Ashlinn urged.
“I’ll certainly do my best.”
“Great,” she said, smiling sleepily at me. “Now I’m sorry to be such a killjoy, but I think I’m going to fall asleep soon.”
“Already?”
“I’ve never actually had the pleasure of a night’s rest before, so my apologies. Besides, it’ll urge the morning on faster.”
“Don’t you want to go to bed?”
Lying on the floor wasn’t awful, but it was a bit silly.
“I’m perfectly comfortable here. You can go retire to yours, though, if you’re so inclined.”
That was a laughable prospect. I just wrapped my arms around her tighter. She was out in seconds, completely unconscious, and her gentle snores filled the air like bubbles in champagne. I wondered if she was dreaming, experiencing the images she supplied to others. Maybe her mind was visiting with Reeves at that very moment, keeping him company and telling him the stories I used to be in charge of.
The credits had finished rolling a while ago, but I only noticed once Ashlinn was asleep. The screen was still lit and acted like a black night-light. Any other day I would have been terrified of monsters and memories lurking in the dark, but for this one moment everything was okay. Asexuality, auditions, and Ashlinn. The world was giving me reason to worship the A section of my dictionary.
The night swirled around me and every moment continued to drag on as my head began to feel foggier. My girlfriend’s lethargic twitches broke up my thoughts as I willed sleep to take me. Her breath ghosted against my skin like a phantasmal caress until the static in my head lulled me to sleep. She did not meet me in any dreams, though, but instead left me to the will of Semira and her night terrors.
There was a man, a man on a motorcycle speeding down the road when a pack of cigarettes fell out of his pocket and onto the asphalt. I knew what was coming next and couldn’t help but to watch, even though the need to stop everything was pulsating through my brain.
Upon realizing his accidental littering, he swung around dramatically to grab the box. I ran, but my legs didn’t carry me toward the scene, and instead I just stayed in place like an old cartoon character, my limbs struggling frantically beneath me.
That’s when the car came.
My father was driving with Reeves in the back, and I had no means of stopping him from trying to swerve around the biker reaching down in the middle of the road. No way of pushing the drugstore a bit to the right, leaving grass in its wake instead of a wall.
It was done.
Red metal folding up like an accordion against scarlet bricks, and that sound—like bass drums rolling into a gunmetal-gray dawn.
Before learning of Semira, I had always assumed nightmares to be a form of self-punishment, that my brain was attacking itself for one reason or another and the cause of the torment was internal. Knowing there was an actual being causing these destitute delusions did not make the situation any less unpleasant. My brain overflowed with a tailor-made horror, but I was freed from it by a hand on my shoulder and a shout in my ear.
Ashlinn had me held down by one arm and was bellowing.
“Wake up. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Her eyelashes stuck out in points making it look like she was wearing mascara.
“You’re crying,” I breathed, stroking her cheek with my thumb.
She wiped at her face and grasped my hand.
“So are you.”
I had failed to notice my own tears and reaching up revealed that my face was soaked as well.
“It was just a nightmare.”
She gave a little choked-off sob at my admission. I figured she already knew, judging by her need to awaken me, but hearing the words out loud must have brought a whole new level of truth to the situation. She couldn’t stop the nightmares anymore. We both knew it was something I would have to deal with now, and Semira seemed desperate to make up for lost time. I just wished she would plague me with a different scenario. Ashlinn started apologizing again, but I shushed the girl and held her close. It was as much my fault as hers. In fact, it was completely my fault.
“Do you wish to talk about the nightmare?” she asked.
She was trying to find the right thing to say. I didn’t want to rehash the screwed-up things that played endlessly behind my eyelids, but isn’t that what couples do? Have pillow talk about their dreams? I gave it a try.
“It was the crash. The one that changed everything.” Now I became conscious of my own tears and began to take heaving gasps between the words. “It’s always the same thing, and it’s ridiculous because I wasn’t even there when it happened. I have no idea what it looked like, so how come I have the entire thing burned into my head like some goddamn catchy pop song?”
“Dreams that happen repeatedly do so for a reason. Maybe Semira is trying to help you figure something out.”
“I’d appreciate it if she’d change her methods.”
“I’m sorry I can’t stop them from happening anymore.” The regret was back in Ashlinn’s voice.
“It’s worth it to wake up next to you. Besides, now I know everything isn’t all that bad with Reeves. That’s comforting.”
She smiled weakly at me, perhaps to show appreciation for my attempts to absolve her of blame. We looked like disasters, and neither of us was going to sleep again. Morning was approaching anyway, so I decided to continue the conversation instead of just lying there, stewing over the past.
“How was your first night sleeping? Any dreams of your own you wanna distract me with?”
We Awaken Page 10