His right hand went downward, and I watched him unbutton his shorts before I asked, “Tempted to do what?”

  He just smiled. That was all, apart from laughing once under his breath. When he moved, I moved to the other side of the room.

  I had a brain full of images when Seb and I left my room. He’d already removed my com before I’d walked out of the space. It was as I was making my way outside that Brent stopped me.

  “It was amazing,” he whispered.

  I opened my mouth, closed it, took in a deep breath, released it, and somehow managed to say, “I’m glad.”

  I heard Seb laugh once under his breath again as he walked past.

  I didn’t really remember the journey from there to the pool, where I was sitting with my feet in the water. I just knew I’d gotten there somehow and that Paige came and sat down beside me at some point.

  “Did you really do that?” she asked.

  “Do . . . what?” I asked blankly. I felt like I’d done a lot of things, but hadn’t really done anything. I’d kissed him, but I’d kissed him earlier.

  My hope that this had something to do with Brent was squashed when she whispered, “Did you really watch Sebastian . . . you know?” She looked around, despite us being alone, and mouthed the word masturbate.

  “Yes, I did,” I admitted, hearing that my voice sounded extremely high-pitched.

  “How was it?” she whispered.

  “Scary,” I admitted. “Strange. But . . . kind of amazing. It was—” I took in a deep breath and didn’t release it before saying, “It was an experience, that’s for sure.”

  “How big was his—”

  “Paige!” I shouted at her in disbelief.

  “What?” Her hands went up into the air. “They’re bigger than everybody in general. I was wondering if that was . . . you know, bigger as well.”

  “How could I possibly know that?”

  “Was it bigger than what you saw yesterday?” she asked. “In the video?”

  I looked out at the water with wide eyes and answered with, “Yep.”

  “How much—”

  “Paige!” I shouted again.

  “Hey,” she said defensively. “I’m just trying to figure this out. I’m just curious if the things they do to them has some sort of effect on the size of their—”

  “Seriously?” I demanded. I really didn’t want to hear the word right now.

  “I think it’s a perfectly reasonable request for information,” she said. “I could go ask him if he’ll show me.”

  I didn’t know if he would or not, and I didn’t want him to, so I said, “It was enough to make a difference.” I shook my head. “I honestly don’t know how it’s going to work.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Having sex,” I answered.

  “You’re thinking about having sex with him?” she asked in disbelief.

  “Of course I’m thinking about it,” I admitted. “It took me a little while, especially last night, trying to get over all the . . . images. But that’s what people do, and I want to do it. I mean, not now or anything. But . . . I care about him, and I have feelings for him, so why not?”

  “Um, well, let’s see . . .” she said quickly, shaking her head. “He broke the pool from just kissing you, for one. He can pick up over a thousand pounds without really trying, for another. He’s massive for another. I don’t know how much he weighs. He could probably break you by just being on top of you and not holding enough of his weight off you. If you’re on top of him, he won’t have anything to hold onto but you, and he will most assuredly break you.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” I said stiffly.

  “Jaycee.” She frowned. “Those things right there are enough, but I can’t believe you’d even contemplate it with . . .” She trailed off for a moment. “You know it’s what they want. Can’t you just . . . find someone else to do it with if you want to so badly? I’m sure that would be all right, especially with how concerned they are about him hurting you.”

  “It’s what I want,” I told her firmly. “And no, I will not find someone else to do it with.” I looked out at the water to add, “I will not do it with anyone but him.” I didn’t feel anything like that for anyone else. I hadn’t even cared to look at anyone else past just looking.

  “Jaycee,” she whispered.

  “What?” I demanded, looking over at her.

  I expected some sort of further grief from her about it, but she didn’t say anything. She just stared at me, frowning, watching my face. Then she moved her eyes, looking to her own feet in the water. And I could just barely see them with the water over them and distorting it . . . forming a letter, with both her heels touching.

  L

  When I looked back at her face, there was a question in her eyes. I knew what she was asking, but I also didn’t. I didn’t understand enough about the word, but from what Seb had said . . .

  I looked out past the pool and sniffed in through my nose, feeling a tear falling down my face.

  Paige’s left hand reached out and patted my back a few times before she very quietly said, “Maybe you’ll figure something out.”

  It was a very long time that I sat there crying with Paige beside me before I finally thought to ask the question.

  “Paige . . . how did you know what we were doing in my room?”

  Chapter 24

  Flash

  “Can I talk to you?” I asked Seb under my breath when he was reattaching my com after Paige’s.

  From the table, Garret asked, “Is that what they’re calling it?”

  Seb picked an apple up from off the kitchen counter. I thought he had every intention of eating it. That made me quite angry because this was certainly not a time for eating. I fully understood his body needing sustenance, but couldn’t it wait like . . . two minutes?

  He didn’t eat the apple. He threw it at the back of Garret’s head. It splattered everywhere.

  Copious amounts of cursing ensued after Garret jumped out of his seat. “What the hell‽” was the most distinguishable of all the things he said.

  “What did I tell you?” Seb asked.

  “That we needed to talk about all this to understand that it’s all right!” Garret yelled at him.

  “Yes,” Brent said, “but he also said that the things people did with each other should remain private if that was what they wished.”

  “That’s funny,” I said humorlessly.

  “It’s my fault,” Brent said sheepishly. “I was trying to find you, and my com said . . . not to interrupt you. So I said something to Garret, and he said something to Paige, and . . .”

  Oh.

  “It really was our fault,” Paige said in embarrassment. “We wouldn’t leave him alone until he told us.”

  That would’ve been useful to know less than five minutes ago when all she’d said was, he told us.

  “How about . . .” I started and then stopped. “How about, from now on, whenever our coms tell us not to interrupt what someone is doing, we don’t bother them about it?”

  “But . . .” Paige frowned. “What if it would help to know?”

  “Ask once,” I told her. “If no one says anything, don’t push it. Clearly you all can find all sorts of useful information in those . . . videos.”

  “Hey, Jaycee.” Garret was still rubbing the back of his head. “Did you know that f-word Seb uses all the time has something to do with doing sex?”

  I glared up at Seb, mostly because a few of us had been using that word after hearing him say it and assuming we’d grasped it. God, what had I actually been saying?

  Seb grinned and said, “It can. It’s a . . . multifaceted word.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure that made me feel better.

  “Sebastian . . .” Paige said quietly, staring down at her arm where he’d touched her to reattach her com. “I’m sorry, but I just now thought about it.” She looked up at him. “Did you wash your hands?”

  “Yes, he did,” I answered for him without really thinking.

  Paige, for some reason, pretended that her mouth was particularly itchy and scratched it to conceal a smile. Brent was distinctly looking away.

  But it was Garret, looking down at his hands and saying, “Shit,” under his breath that was just . . .

  I didn’t even know.

  “Go wash your hands, for god’s sake,” Seb said in disgust.

  Garret ran from the room with his hands in the air. I tried to pretend I didn’t notice Brent slipping out of the kitchen shortly after.

  I really could understand slacking with a lot of things now that we could, but . . . that?

  Paige’s second—or third, I was unsure—attempt at cooking dinner didn’t go over so well. No one could eat it, and even she’d said, “Yeah, not happening.”

  We ended up having to order take-out again. I wasn’t complaining. It was different than what we’d had the night before, but Seb said there were all different sorts of take-out. He ate a lot. I was just happy to be trying new things. Especially new things that didn’t make me wonder if what had happened to Paige our first time in a vehicle—with the getting sick—was going to happen to me.

  “Can we watch a movie?” Paige asked Seb not even ten minutes into eating.

  “Sure,” Seb said. “Do what you want.”

  “I was just thinking it would be good for studying,” Paige said nonchalantly. “Different behaviors and all that.”

  Seb sighed. “Paige, I already told you that you could.”

  She’d apparently figured out how to watch movies on her own at some point, if they were somehow different than all the videos she’d been watching. She began going through them on the television, trying to find something suitable.

  “I want this one,” she said eventually.

  Seb sighed even more loudly, but he didn’t tell her not to watch it.

  The seventh word said at the beginning of the movie—after all sorts of messages from somewhere about seemingly boring things—was love.

  Garret and Brent jumped out of their seats on the other sofa. Garret dropped part of his pizza on the floor.

  “Calm down!” Seb shouted at them.

  “But the word!” Garret yelled in outright fear.

  “The coms only react to your own voice with that sort of thing,” Seb said impatiently. “They can hear other people speaking, but it doesn’t matter. Get used to hearing that word. You’ll probably hear it a lot. I’m surprised you haven’t already. Maybe if you hadn’t been so caught up every time you’ve been out.”

  “What is it?” Brent asked quietly, sitting back down.

  “If the description of this movie is any indication, you’re about to figure it out,” Seb told him. “Still, don’t say it.”

  Paige had frozen the movie until the ruckus had ceased. And for the first time with the television . . . I paid attention to what was happening on the screen willingly when the movement resumed.

  By the end of it, I realized . . .

  I was right.

  I was pretty sure I was falling in love with Seb. Pretty sure. Possibly.

  “Why am I crying?” Garret asked in confusion while something called credits were rolling. There was music playing. It was much more pleasant than what I’d heard in the club and a few loud stores in the mall. I was pretty sure it was the volume that bothered me with music than the music itself. Possibly.

  I was wiping tears off my own face with my left hand when I extended my right to Seb.

  “I like movies,” Brent said. By the time he’d finished speaking, my com was off. I stood up and let myself outside.

  The sun was going down, and rather than sit on the edge of the pool, I went to stand near where the steps would begin leading down to the beach. I just stood there, watching the sun setting past the flat line of the ocean on the horizon.

  I thought only ten minutes or so had passed when I heard, “Do you want to dance?” at my back.

  “I can’t dance with you, Seb,” I told him, wiping more tears off my face. I’d thought about dancing before I’d been told I couldn’t dance with him without wearing the com, and I’d wanted to then. Then it had been on the list of impermissible actions, and I didn’t want to any longer. And I wasn’t in the mood right now regardless.

  “I promise you can,” he said.

  “I promise I can’t.”

  He came up beside me and took my right hand in his left, pulling me close to him. “Like this,” he said, wrapping that arm around him and then doing the same with the other, “I promise you can.”

  I was very confused when his arms went around me and we started . . . moving, just hardly, but a little.

  Was that all dancing was? Movement?

  I liked it. This was much nicer than the club.

  “I thought you didn’t dance,” I said quietly into his chest.

  “I don’t,” he said. “But I made a promise to a beautiful girl earlier, and I figured . . . what’s living if it isn’t doing things you don’t do?”

  I smiled, turning the side of my face and resting it against his chest. I didn’t know how it could feel the way that it did, with his body making him like a wall, but there was something . . . soft about him as well. It was somewhere there. Maybe it was just his hands touching my back. There was something so gentle about it, which was so confusing. I was pretty sure that I liked whatever this was more than kissing.

  When I looked up at him, he was staring down at me rather than to his right out at the sunset.

  “I suppose this isn’t provocative,” I said quietly. “Whatever that means.” I’d just written off dancing as a whole because it was the word I’d understood of the two grouped together on the list of things we couldn’t do without our coms.

  He smiled a little. What was it about his eyes and how he was looking at me? Something. Why was it so different from how he’d looked at me earlier, in my room? How could the same things be so different?

  “No, it’s not,” he said.

  All the things on the lists had been quite clear. We could touch one another without our coms on, as long as it wouldn’t lead to . . . things. Or couldn’t lead to things. Couldn’t anything and everything lead to things? Wasn’t everything something? I didn’t really get the logic behind it, but I didn’t really get anything. Sunsets were beautiful and amazing. I got that.

  “Do you really think I’m beautiful?” I asked quietly.

  He nodded and pulled me close to him again.

  I only spent a few seconds looking out at the sunset again before closing my eyes and whispering, “I think you’re beautiful too.”

  He laughed a little, quietly, but he didn’t say anything else.

  I didn’t open my eyes again until after the sun had gone down entirely. I didn’t think he’d watched the sunset either, but I supposed he’d seen a lot of them in his life. To me, in that moment . . . it didn’t seem so important.

  I would see it again.

  But there was something strange about my heartbeats. It wasn’t that they were as fast as they usually were around him. They felt . . . deeper, somehow.

  They didn’t care about the deep heartbeats. They only cared about the fast ones.

  I cared about all of them.

  “Are you ready to go back inside?” Seb asked me eventually.

  I looked up at him and there was some part of me that wanted to tell him no, that I wanted to stay out here with him forever, but that was ridiculous. No one lived forever and there were so many things to do. I nodded my head because going back inside was all right. I’d had a new and good experience.

  Paige was asleep against Brent’s arm again on the sofa when we went back inside, like she’d been the night before. After putting both our coms on our wrists, Seb quietly said, “I should probably get her up to bed.”

  “I’ve got her,” Brent told him. I figured he was just going to wake her up, but he didn’t. He weaseled himself out from beneath her weight and then stood, leaning over her and picking her body up easily.

  She stirred a little, breathing in deeply once, but she didn’t wake.

  “Straight back,” Seb whispered.

  Brent shot him a look—an appalled look—before walking upstairs with her in his arms. We’d barely just gotten settled on our opposite ends of the sofa when Brent came back down alone.

  “It’s weird,” Seb said, shaking his head, “that you all like these sorts of movies. You were just watching porn at the kitchen table a few hours ago.”

  They were watching another lovey movie now, that much was apparent.

  “It’s interesting,” Garret said. “It’s like—” His brow furrowed. “I didn’t know people . . .”

  “Had feelings for other people?” Seb offered when he didn’t continue.

  Garret nodded.

  Brent asked, “Do girls like being treated this way?”

  When I looked over at him, he was staring at me. He nodded his head toward the television.

  I shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t know.” I didn’t know what females liked.

  “Would you like to be treated this way?” Garret asked.

  I didn’t know what had happened in this new movie, but if it was anything like the last . . .

  I nodded shortly, even more uncomfortably than my shrug had been. There had been no kissing in laundry rooms, but . . .

  There had been something about the way the two people had been together that seemed . . .

  Impossible.

  “What’s weird about liking these sorts of movies?” Garret asked Seb. I was glad the focus was off me.

  “Guys don’t generally like them,” Seb answered. “And if they do, they don’t usually admit it.”

  “What sorts of movies do guys generally like, then?” Garret asked.

  “The sorts with blood and gore everywhere,” Seb replied.

  “Do you like those sorts of movies?” Brent asked him.

  “No,” Seb answered. “When you’ve seen as much of it as I have . . . you don’t really care for it. Well, some people could, but I don’t.”

  “Have you seen a lot of people killed, Seb?” Garret asked.

  “What do you think?” Seb asked him back shortly.

 

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