"We'll see you guys at school on Monday!" Zoe waved at Alana and Jared as they walked away from the bug towards Jared's house. Alana had picked Zoe up from the school earlier so they could leave the bug there to get home after the dance.
Originally the plan had been that Zoe and Evan would join Jared and Alana at Jared's, but noticing Evan's yawns on the ride over, Zoe had made their excuses to just drop them off instead. Alana's parents planned to pick her up at midnight from his house, which left them a solid hour and a half of alone time. Zoe was sure they would make the most of it; they didn't seem to be too upset that the afterparty was cancelled.
Evan turned and smiled at her sleepily from the passenger seat.
"Did you have fun?" he asked with a yawn.
"Absolutely. I can't imagine a more perfect night," Zoe grinned. She was glowing in the driver's seat, a little sweaty, her hair half down and her smile radiant. "Did you?" she turned and looked at Evan.
"I actually did," he replied. "For real. I didn't think I would dance or anything but I liked it when I did. And watching Jared and Alana was cute."
"Weren't they?!" Zoe quipped. "I never thought I would see us as some sort of relationship gurus but watching them makes me feel like a pro." She laughed.
"Right? I kind of love it. I'm sure Alana told you they kissed?"
"Yeah, she had a major freak-out about it in the bathroom."
"Wait, really? Did she not want to?"
"I'm not sure. I wasn't catching a lot of what she was saying; it was kind of quick. She seemed happy, but I think she's trying really hard to make herself have realistic expectations. She's been using movie stars to set her standards all her life."
"Oh. Yeah, that won't work."
"Yeah, Jared's not exactly a movie star," Zoe said with a wry smile. "But I think he really likes her. Has he talked to you about it?"
"Yeah, a little bit," Evan replied. "I think he likes her. He's not the best at being very. . . respectful when talking about her, but I think it's just because he's used to being so sarcastic all the time, ya know? I call him out on it, though."
"Do you now?" Zoe asked slyly.
"Yeah! I think it's not cool to talk about girls like they're. . . I don't know, achievements? Or something like that. Like, doing stuff with a girl is special," Evan's cheeks began to redden as he realized his audience, "and it shouldn't be taken for granted or bragged about. I guess." He fell silent, shoulders hunched shyly. Zoe smiled again, glancing over at him.
"So I'm guessing you haven't talked to him at all about us then?" she teased.
"Well, I did a bit. I mean, I didn't like brag about it or anything, not that there's anything to brag about, but sometimes you do need to talk about it, ya know? Like just to get advice or because it's just too exciting, you just have to stay respectful and not pretend like you're owed anything—"
"Ev, I'm not trying to call you out," Zoe giggled. "I'm just teasing."
"I knew that," Evan replied, his cheeks bright red. He paused a moment, waiting to see if she'd speak. When she didn't he continued. "I told him we might, ya know, do it. Tonight." Zoe's cheeks flushed a little at the idea.
"Did you now?"
"Yeah. I know we agreed I'd get condoms and all that, but I realized I couldn't actually go do that because, ya know, reasons, and I wasn't about to ask my mom or Connor or anything like that, so he was kind of the only option."
"I take it you got them then."
"Yeah. Just in case. We don't have to, obviously, I would never try and force it or anything like that—"
"You're fine," Zoe reminded him quietly, interrupting the beginning of another anxious ramble. He wasn't alone in his anxiety; the thought of actually doing it—no matter how planned it was—had her on edge too. "We don't have to do it if we don't want. There's literally zero pressure. We get to pick." She seemed to be reassuring herself as much as him.
"You're right," Evan breathed out slowly, getting his heartrate under control. They pulled up at Zoe's house and sat there for a moment. The tension in the air was palpable, thick and awkward.
Zoe turned and looked at Evan and he looked back. In a moment, he remembered why he was there; it was so, so much more than just sex. The awkwardness fell away as they looked at each other, small smiles spreading on their faces. Sex quickly fell into place in their minds: it wasn't this scary unexplored thing, just a facet of whatever this was between them, the heat and crackling electricity. Sex—if it happened—would just be a part of something bigger.
"Wanna go up?" Zoe suggested, breaking the trance. Evan nodded, afraid that his own voice would be husky and weak if he spoke.
They walked up to the house together, the world seeming muted around them. Evan reached for Zoe's hand and grazed her leg with his fingers accidentally—even such a casual touch made them both shiver. As their fingers twined together he could feel the heat radiating between them. The air outside was cold; their breath combined in a cloud in front of them as they walked. Neither of them felt a chill, however.
They didn't release each other's hands as she opened the door and they took their shoes off. He finished unlacing his dress shoes first and helped her undo the tiny buckles on her heels. She giggled as he did, their faces so close together but not touching, their hands still clasped together, unwilling to let go.
When both their shoes were off she led him up the stairs, they seemed to move in slow motion even as they half-jogged to her room. When they got there and closed the door, the tension arrived again.
The only light was from the streetlights outside, a warm orange glow barely penetrating the room, cut into bars by the blinds. The air felt heavy, frightening.
It was the bed. Having a bed there opened up all the possibilities. Even if they didn't get in the bed, now they were both thinking about the bed, and what they could do in it, and what they would probably do in it, if not tonight then eventually. Sure sex was only a part of it, but it was a very real, immediate, unknown part. Their hands still clasped each other, but now with caution, as if holding themselves back from whatever the bed implied.
"We should probably change into something comfy," Zoe whispered, never taking her eyes off the bed.
"Yeah," Evan whispered back. "That's what I forgot!" he hit his forehead with his free hand.
"What?" Zoe whispered.
"I forgot my bag with my change of clothes in it. It's at Jared's."
"Oh. That's ok, I have those clothes you borrowed last weekend still. You can just wear those." Zoe gestured at the pile on her desk, the t-shirt and flannel pajamas folded neatly, waiting to be returned to a boy who wouldn't speak to her. Evan wiped the thought from his mind, not letting Connor enter his thoughts. He couldn't, not now.
"Ok. Thanks. Yeah." Evan whispered. Their hands finally came apart as Zoe turned her back to him, pulling her half-down hair over her shoulder.
"Will you undo the zipper for me?" she whispered.
"S-sure," Evan replied. He noticed his fingers were shaking as he moved to grasp the tiny metal zipper, sliding it down her back with a soft buzz. She was wearing a beige strapless bra beneath that showed as the fabric gaped away. She held the dress up as she walked across the room to her closet, pulling out a soft tank top and a pair of boxers from its depths.
Evan watched in the half-light as she let the dress fall to the ground—still facing away from him—and stepped out of it. She was wearing light pink panties too. He looked at the imprint of her spine on her back, each vertebra standing out under the pale skin. She had a few light moles that he'd never seen before, scattered over her skin like constellations. She pulled on the boxers and t-shirt quickly, then turned around.
Evan quickly looked away, bashful, feeling guilty. She just smiled shyly, rolling the overly-large boxers up at her waist. He watched as they rose, revealing more and more of her legs.
"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" she asked.
"Yeah sure," Evan replied, peeling his eyes away from her legs.
"Ok," Zoe giggled, noticing where his attention was. "I'll pick something out." She walked over to her desk and pulled her corsage off her wrist tenderly, setting it down. She picked her laptop up from her desk and walked over to her bed. "Want to change?' she suggested again.
"Oh, yeah," Evan started over to the clothes on her desk. He unpinned his boutonniere and set it next to her corsage, admiring the pair together. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and pulled it off his shoulders. He heard a faint crackle as he did and remembered the condoms in the breast pocket. Thank god he had brought some, since he had left the rest at Jared's. He held the jacket carefully, trying to not let the packages crinkle again, not wanting Zoe to hear, even though they were for her. And him. Maybe.
His fingers fumbled with the buttons on his dress shirt, the fabric so stiffly starched that pushing the buttons back through was no easy task.
"Want some help with that?" Zoe asked from the bed. He turned and saw her smiling, watching him from under the blankets with a small smirk.
"Uh, sure," he replied.
He walked over and then knelt on the bed in front of her. She had longer nails than him and made quick work of the buttons. When she finished, she grasped a sleeve and held it while he pulled his arm out. He pulled his other arm out and let the shirt fall behind him. Zoe looked at him for a moment and anxiety hit his stomach in a wave. He felt naked, even though he was only shirtless. As he tensed, Zoe caught his eye again, her smile still warm and reassuring. It was just Zoe. Just Zoe. As if. She would never be just Zoe. But still, no reason to stress. Nothing she hadn't seen before.
He smiled at her and backed away on the bed, then laid his shirt down on the desk, pulling the white t-shirt over his head in its place. Being away from the bed again made him nervous once more. He faced away from her as he undid his pants and let them fall, quickly stepping out and pulling the flannel pajama pants on. He turned around quickly and noticed with relief that she was staring at her laptop screen, not at him.
He crawled into the bed and sat next to her, letting their legs touch but avoiding the usual cuddling pose they took, with her practically draped across him. She could feel his discomfort.
"Ok two things," she said into the silence. "First, we literally don't have to touch each other tonight. I just want you to know that, because you seem really tense and I don't want this to be awkward, and I don't care either way. Secondly, I was thinking that maybe we could watch some spoken word stuff instead of a movie. I've been getting really into it lately and I think there's some you'll really like. Is that ok?" She looked at Evan with her eyes wide, hopeful.
"Yeah sure," he mumbled, face red. He had been looking forward to this forever, and now when he had his chance, when there was nothing in their way, he was going to be an anxious wreck. Of course.
"Oh, and one more thing."
"Three things?" he asked sarcastically, trying to hide his disappointment in himself.
"I love you," Zoe whispered, leaning over and pecking him on the cheek. He felt a spark where her lips touched his skin, and reflexively reached up and touched the spot. He felt her smile next to him as she opened YouTube.
The first poem was sung—there was no other word for it—by a trans person, speaking in metaphors and stories and similes that carried Evan on a wave. The crescendos in their voice were completely mesmerizing. He felt Zoe watching him as the words flowed from the screen to his ears. When it ended, they sat there in silence, comprehending. The passion and pain of the words stayed in Evan, swirling around in his chest, feeling like his own.
"Wow," he finally whispered.
"Right?" Zoe whispered back. "It's called 'I Sing My Body Electric, Especially When My Power Is Out'. I love it." She quickly typed in more words and another poem started.
This one was spoken more quietly, by a bearded man, crooned into the microphone. He spoke of texting a girl he'd met only once, of sharing love via text message and never face to face, how electronic love can't describe the color of their eyes or her freckles or the color of her favorite bra, how phones know more cruelty and rejection than anything else. When it ended the man walked away from the microphone abruptly, leaving his last words hanging in the air: "This is how we have learned to love."
Evan's heart pounded in his chest. He turned to Zoe, saw the same feeling in her. All the odds they felt stacked against them, laid out there in vivid color: how tenuous love felt, with all the rest of the world getting in the way, watching, judging, all behind the safe anonymity of a screen, with a keyboard at their fingertips, their weapon. Evan felt like a hand was squeezing his heart, knowing Zoe had felt it too.
"I will never love you like that," he whispered. She looked at him, serious. "If I ever text you and say 'I love you' and 'lol' in the same message, please break up with me."
This got a smile from her.
"Sounds good," she whispered, leaning in and kissing him. YouTube played another poem automatically, set to music. Something about race in America; Evan wasn't sure. He was a bit distracted.
When Zoe leaned against him, the scoop neck on her tank top fell away from her body and left the satiny material of her bra exposed. Evan's eyes wandered downwards, and he felt Zoe follow his gaze. Without a word, she slipped the top off over her head, tossing it behind her and then looking at him questioningly; was this ok? He nodded faintly, then felt like he needed to reassure her somehow. A kiss seemed the best way. The laptop slid to the side as she leaned into the kiss, partially straddling him. It felt like their first kiss all over again; so right, but so terrifying at the same time. With this kiss, nothing was certain.
It felt like the point of no return; they both held their breath as their eyes met one final time: was this it? Evan felt his heart pounding as they looked at each other, felt Zoe's hand slide up his abdomen and land on his chest, feeling the pounding rhythm. She smiled slightly, holding his eyes with her own. Without a word, he reached up and placed his hand over her own, holding it there. His breath shuddered.
He kissed her again and then helped her slide off next to him once more, stopping their progress. She curled up immediately, eager to have him to know it was ok, they didn't have to go further. He felt his heartbeat slow and then a twang of regret: he wanted to, he wanted to so bad, but it was just so terrifying. He looked at her worriedly, not wanting her to think it was anything but him, not wanting to reject her but unable to overcome the anxiety, the racing heart and sweaty hands and constant highlight reel of terror and pain and—
Zoe lay her head on her chest and whispered, "I love you." Abruptly, the fears playing in his head screeched to a halt. They lay there in silence. Evan took in every detail his senses could provide; the tickle of her hair on his neck and chin, the smell of cucumbers and flowers and vanilla, the slow beat of her heart against his ribs, still slightly sore from his fall out of the tree. The way her breath travelled along his skin, under his shirt. How soft her cheek was, and the skin on her shoulder where his hand rested. How the filtered light caught every loose strand of her hair, illuminating it from behind and surrounding her head in a fiery halo. Every once in a while, she would whisper it again; "I love you," not expecting a response, just telling him, letting him take the words in, absorb them, get fully acquainted with them. They were lovely.
After a few minutes he stood, walking over to the desk. Zoe sat up behind him, looking at him with concern. Was he leaving? He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled something out, walking back to the bed. He held up a little square package, metallic blue.
"I believe I've changed my mind," he stated awkwardly, watching her look from the condom to his face. She scooched over and stood, wedging herself in the space between him and the bed. She grabbed the hem of his shirt and fiddled with it for a moment, silently asking him if it was ok. He put his hands over hers and helped her lift it, pulling it over his head.
There was no worry now, no angst. He knew why he was doing this. He kissed her again, putting his hands in places they'd never been before; cupping her hip, holding her neck, travelling softly down and feeling the curve of her waist before coming up gently over her breast. They came apart and all they could hear was the sound of their breathing, shallow and quick. He turned around and sat on the bed, pulling her down with him so she was straddling him. When he started trailing kisses down her neck she giggled, both at the tickling and the memory of the hickey that had only just faded from the skin under his lips. He smiled too, into her neck, and that just made her laugh more.
After a few minutes he turned and sat against the headboard, holding her in place over his body. He fumbled with her bra, first with one hand, then two, trying to get it undone, smiling self-deprecatingly as he did so. He gave up after a minute, looking at her with a puzzled face.
"How do you wear one of these every day?" he whispered in wonder as she reached behind her and undid it with one hand. She laughed.
"You'll get used to it. With practice, I mean," she smiled. His grin fell away as her bra did; he sat there for a moment and just took in the sight in front of him. Zoe blushed at his eyes on her. "Have you never seen breasts before? Wait, don't answer that," she laughed, and he had to laugh too, bashfully, awkwardly, lovely.
Laughter seemed to be a common theme; when he reached up and cupped her breasts and just mouthed the word wow because nothing else came to mind, when his pants got tangled around his ankles and Zoe had to get off him to allow him to remove them, when her boxers got caught on her ankle and she had to kick multiple times to get them off, accidentally kicking Evan's leg in the process. When he accidentally poked a hole in the condom getting it out of the package and had to reassure Zoe he had another one, but didn't let her watch him walk over to the desk naked to retrieve it. She watched anyways, and they laughed about that too, after he calmed down. They had to spend a moment deciding who would be on top and got into the mechanics of the act itself, completely factual until they realized they were talking like engineers and not lovers, and they laughed about that too.
Then Zoe drew him down on top of her and for a moment there was no laughter, just silence, a tentative breath in, of reality hitting and oh my god this is it. The lining it up, the reassuring smile and deepest kiss yet. . .
The moment of truth, when he landed inside her and held his breath, looking at her face, waiting for signs of pain or displeasure. She just opened her eyes and looked at him all puzzled and said, "don't stop!" They laughed then too, and he didn't stop, not until he finished, which was about ninety seconds later. Then they laughed at that too, because they both knew it would happen, even though he was embarrassed anyways.
She laughed when he apologized and then they laughed again, ten minutes later, when he was ready to go once more, and she was still ready because she hadn't really gone yet. They laughed as he had to go get a condom again, and she watched again, and this time he sat against the headboard and watched her body move on top of him and remembered that earlier he had never reminded her how beautiful she was, and so he had to tell her then, as she moved her body against his in all the right ways, looking so beautiful while doing it, and when she heard him she smiled and made some noises and he was pretty sure that reminding her she was beautiful was the best thing he'd ever done. They laughed again afterward, because they were both sweaty and tired and had done it, the terrifying thing they had both been so unsure about, and they both felt so good, even if strangely weak, and now all the fear from before felt so irrelevant and distant.
Lying next to each other, limbs so intertwined they felt melted together, they giggled quietly once more. They shared something now they hadn't before. When Evan had to go to the bathroom ten minutes later, he noticed how strange and wrong it felt to not be touching her, breathing a sigh of relief when he slipped back into bed and was with her once more. He never wanted to stop touching her, even if it wasn't sex; just trailing his fingers up and down her arm, feeling her ribs under her skin, tucking her hair behind her ear, grazing her breast with his palm. One night simply wouldn't be enough. He would need every night for the rest of forever to truly take in how beautiful she was, how miraculous and perfect and loving him. So they fell asleep, warm yet shivering, love and pleasure and trust abounding with every touch, every graze, every glance.
