It Looks Like This (14 page)

We work on the magazine for only about twenty minutes.

I’m sitting on his bed, him next to me, like last time. We’ve gotten a couple of the articles written and now we’re translating them. It’s hard work. We use what we remember from class when we can but usually we end up passing the dictionary between us.

But we get into it and it goes faster than I thought it would.

Sean sits close as we look over each other’s shoulders, studying the dictionary and our own notes. Our weight makes the mattress sag a bit, making our legs touch. Sean doesn’t seem to care or maybe he doesn’t notice.

I frown in the middle of one of the sentences he’s dictating. The translation sounds off to me.

Sean stops and looks over at the point where my pencil has stopped, breaking the edge of a lowercase
d.

I say, Wait, I think that’s wrong.

He picks up the dictionary. I listen to the flip of pages as he finds the word. I haven’t moved my pencil.

He shows me the page, leaning over so I can see. He puts his arm on the mattress behind me to support himself, the dictionary on my lap.

He points to an entry and says, Right there, you’re right. Just copy that word.

I erase the word and start it over, looking back and forth from notes to dictionary.

Sean is close, really close. If I lean back just barely, I can feel his arm against my back.

I finish the word and he looks up at me as I look over.

Suddenly all I can think about is his arm against my back, him leaning into me. His hand is still on the dictionary on my lap. I can almost see his breath as he exhales slowly right in front of me, or maybe he’s not breathing anymore.

We stay that way for a second and there is no sound, nothing.

The doorbell rings, crisp and clear and jarring. We’re both startled. Sean stands up fast, knocking the dictionary to the ground.

He mumbles, Pizza’s here,

and walks out of the bedroom without looking back.

My heart’s beating fast now, from being startled but also because I feel suddenly nervous.

I take a breath, calming myself, then leave the room and go downstairs.

The pizza guy is about Sean’s age or maybe a year or two older. His eyes flick between us as he gives the box to Sean and waits for Sean to hand over the bills. His face shows nothing, no expression or anything. He mutters a thanks and he’s gone.

Sean carries the box to the kitchen. I follow him.

He puts the box on the island and then turns without warning and I almost bump into him.

He says, Do you like beer?

I blurt out, I’ve never had it.

And then I think maybe that was a dumb thing to say, but Sean doesn’t seem to care.

Without saying anything he walks over past the fridge and through the door to the backyard along a short path that connects to the garage.

I just stand there, not sure what to do. Through the window in the door I can see him disappear into the garage.

He comes out a moment later holding two green glass bottles.

I shift my weight from one foot to the other.

Sean steps back in the kitchen and hands me a bottle. The cap is already bent and loose. I hold it up to look at it. Heineken, something I’ve seen Dad drink only a couple times. It’s warm but fizzy.

Sean says, I got a fake ID but it doesn’t really look that much like me. I can only use it at the Citgo because they don’t care that much there.

He smiles softly like he thinks it’s no big deal.

I say, Cool.

He lifts the cap off and takes a swig.

I look at mine, stalling.

Sean watches me as he sips again, then says,

It’s not as bad as you think. The first taste will be a bit weird but you’ll get used to it.

I take the cap off slowly and sniff at the beer. I bring the bottle to my lips and don’t even realize my eyes are shut tight.

Dad has let me have a sip of beer before just to try it, and it tastes the same as last time, bitter and yeasty like moldy bread. I try not to let it show in my expression but Sean laughs.

Not in a mean way, though.

He says, Sorry it’s so warm. I have to hide them from my dad or he’ll kill me. He doesn’t even drink, himself.

I smile.

We decide to pour the beer into glasses of ice, thinking it will be worth it even if it’s kind of lame to drink beer with ice.

This way it’s not so bad. It takes longer than I think to get used to it, but when we start our second bottles, the bitter bready taste isn’t so jarring anymore.

We drink our beers between slices of pizza, sitting at the kitchen table, talking and laughing about nothing.

Sean got a large pizza but between us we finish the whole thing. I go through two beers along the way. Sean has three.

We stay at the table for a while after the pizza’s gone, talking over leftover crusts and five empty green bottles.

Outside it’s full dark, has been for a couple hours. There are still crickets this late in the year, and we can hear them as we talk, chirping over us from outside in the backyard.

We talk easily, more easily than I ever have. I look at the empty bottles.

I say, How late do crickets usually last in the winter?

Sean shrugs.

He says, There’s not really much of a winter here. They’ll be gone only a month or two. You know, they’re usually gone by now, but it’s been a bit warmer this year.

I mull this over a bit, listening to the crickets, wondering where they’ll go when it finally gets too cold.

I say, It’s kinda nice not having it be cold all the time. I mean that’s all I ever grew up with and I’m used to it. I thought I’d never really care about warmer weather but it’s nice.

Sean nods and says, I don’t think I could do long winters. What’s the point of living next to water if you barely get to use it?

I think about Lake Michigan, which right now is quiet and dark and freezing, surrounded by snow, at the beginning of a long period before it’s warm enough to touch again.

Then I think about the ocean, sitting just a mile away, expansive and mysterious.

I say, You go to the beach a lot?

Sean says, Yeah, as much as I can. What about you?

I say, We went a couple times during the summer, right after we moved here. It’s all right, just always crowded.

Sean says, Well, yeah, it’s better at night. No people, right?

I don’t say anything for a second, just go back to listening to the crickets.

Then I say, You’ve been at night?

Sean raises his eyebrows. He says, You haven’t?

I shake my head.

He leans back in his chair, staring at me. Just sits there like that for a minute, then gets up suddenly.

He says, Let’s go.

I blink.

I say, Wait, now?

He nods, smiling now, and says, Absolutely. You need to go at night at least once before it’s too cold.

I stand, a bit too fast, and brace myself on the table with one hand. I didn’t realize how dizzy I was from the beer while sitting down, and it all seems to rush at me at once. But the feeling passes quickly.

I say, Isn’t it too cold now?

Sean laughs.

He says, Maybe,

but he’s already pulling me toward the door.

We go out the back. Sean doesn’t lock the door, just goes, and I follow him through the gate and down the driveway and onto the sidewalk.

He takes long strides and I have to kind of jog a bit every now and then to keep up.

We’re covered in the yellow light of streetlamps and the chirping of millions of crickets and a breeze that comes and goes.

We don’t need jackets. Even with the breeze it’s only a little cool.

We walk for fifteen minutes and then the yellow light leaves us, and then the crickets leave us too. I can hear the ocean, faint, but I can’t see it. Ahead is darkness that is almost complete. The moon shines, then doesn’t, covered sometimes with passing clouds, and there are times I can make some things out and times I can see almost nothing past a few feet in front of me except Sean’s somehow darker silhouette.

The ground beneath changes and gives. We’re on sand.

I look over my shoulder at the fading yellow lights, see the glow from the street fall back.

We walk closer and now I can see the ocean, moon or not, whitecaps crashing on the shore.

Sean stops a few feet from the tide line and again I almost bump into him.

He turns and looks at me. Even in the dark I can see his eyes.

He says, Let’s go in.

I can feel myself grinning. I say, It’s gotta be freezing.

He says, So?

I say, We don’t have swimsuits,

and I’m still smiling despite myself and shivering a bit now too, and he says,

So?

And he turns back toward the ocean. The moon is out full now, a break from the clouds, and I can see him pretty well. He rips his shirt off, flinging it aside.

He kicks his shoes off next as he walks toward the water, and then the jeans, almost tripping over them.

Then his briefs, throwing them to the side, skin shimmering and dark in the moonlight, and then he dives in.

Sean whoops when the water hits him, and he goes under and then back up a moment later, howling at the cold and shaking water from his hair and laughing.

I’m laughing now too. Shivering, not from the cold.

He calls: Come on!

That’s all I need. I take my own clothes off, slower than he did and more self-conscious, but I get them off.

I hesitate only a bit before pulling down my underwear and then I run in, and with each step I care a little less about being naked.

The water hurts when I hit it, it’s so cold. It’s been a warm fall but it’s still December. But it’s so good too. I yelp, I can’t help it, and Sean laughs more.

He splashes me right when I come up for air, and the cold covers me and I yelp-laugh again.

But the more I go underwater, the less cold I feel. The more I want to swim, move, splash.

Sean is nearby, treading water and watching me, and I go to him.

He splashes me and I laugh, wiping ocean water from my eyes. I try to splash him back but he’s fast, he dives to the side and underwater.

He comes up behind me and splashes again. Out of instinct I swing my arm back to splash and barely get him. Sean laughs, caught, and tackles me.

His arms lock around my chest and we wrestle, him trying to get me underwater. I’m no match and I go under, holding my breath just in time. The sounds of the night turn muffled and watery, bubbling around me, and I can taste salt water, I can feel his arms across my front, his chest against my back. Out of nowhere I think of my friend Nick from sixth grade, of a summer day in a neighborhood pool. For just a second. Then my mind returns to the present.

We wrestle a bit and when it’s clear he’s won, Sean lets go, laughing. I catch my breath and I’m laughing too.

Nearby I find a spot where I don’t need to tread. The sand is rough below, full of sharp shells, and I imagine crabs and jellyfish, but I stand anyway. The water comes up to just above my waist. Sean is in front of me.

We stand there for a minute, laughing quietly, too close, way too close, and I’m shivering but I’m not cold anymore.

Then I feel Sean put his hands on my waist underwater and I stop smiling. The moon’s out again, miles out over the ocean. It bounces off the rippling water under us, making patterns of light against Sean’s cheeks, his nose, his chin, his chest, his arms. It dances in his eyes.

Slowly, slowly, I put my hands on his waist too.

He pulls me toward him and I go, I can’t help it.

Our faces are just inches apart. His breath comes out in vapor, and I watch it so I’m not looking at him. Then he kisses me.

It’s a while before I even think about what’s happening.

It’s a weird feeling. His lips are against mine, really tight, and then his mouth opens. I can feel his tongue and I don’t know what to do at first, but then I try to do what he’s doing, just move my tongue around. I can’t tell if this is really what I’m supposed to be doing, but somehow it feels really, really great.

His chest is against mine, then his waist is against mine. He puts his hands on my lower back, squeezing me toward him. My own fingers move along his skin in a bunch of different directions. He’s warm against the cold water.

Sean pulls away suddenly and looks at me serious, and for a second I get scared.

He stays that way for just a moment. But then he pulls me back toward him again.

He kisses me again and his hands slide lower from my back. I almost push away out of instinct, but I stop myself. I look at him a moment.

He’s looking back at me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking from his face.

But I lean into him again, moving my hands all over him. I touch his neck and move down to his chest, sort of rubbing it. I’ve never rubbed someone’s chest before, and I don’t even know if that’s like a thing, but it feels all right. And plus he’s doing the same thing so I figure it’s okay.

I touch the little ridges between his abs, shining wet in the moon. The water line comes just below.

I hesitate just a bit then reach down, feeling all around. He gasps a bit.

My face flushes warm and I start to mumble that I’m sorry, but then he reaches down too.

I hold my breath for a second and my heart starts beating really fast.

He’s kind of rough and it hurts a little, but it’s a good kind of hurt. I try to do what he’s doing and after a bit we have kind of a rhythm.

We lean into each other, my forehead on his shoulder, my free hand on his back. I close my eyes for a second, and then I realize my hand is just going up and down his back in one line which seems kind of weird, so I just stop moving it.

My eyes open suddenly and I grunt out a bit without even meaning to make a noise. Against me I can feel his body tense up and then kind of jerk a bit. Then he lets out a breathy sigh.

I’m breathing hard, but it’s slowing now. I have the weirdest urge to laugh, and I lift my head up to look at Sean, and as I do, he puts his hand on my arm.

He says, You can’t tell anyone about this.

He doesn’t look angry or anything, just kind of agitated. Kind of scared. I open my mouth but don’t really know what to say, I’m kind of distracted by trying to read his expression.