Summer: Overdue
Izzy was seated in a community room in Amy's dormitory, staring blankly at his laptop's screen. It was nearly identical to the social areas in their dorm back home, right down to the ancient box television, shabby furniture, harsh overhead lighting, and white walls worn to sickly gray.
Sighing, he checked a text from TK for the hundredth time, confirming that this was the correct building and floor. Amy still wasn't answering her phone, and she hadn't responded to his knock on her door. Perhaps she's sleeping, and I'm failing to knock hard enough? He was considering returning to her door when the sound of footsteps caught his attention.
Amy stepped into the common room, staring at her feet and running a hand along the far wall. Izzy's heart stuttered, then ripped into gear like a revving engine. Sensing that something was off, he ignored his instinct to rise and approach. He hid his face behind his laptop's display and watched her move with slow, clunky steps. A jolt ran through him when registered her honey-brown tan, which hadn't been evident over the web cam. Somehow, that combined with her weight loss reminded him of Shauna.
Izzy shook his head, trying to clear it of the comparison. At least her general appearance couldn't be confused with Shauna's. She was wearing a hoodie, grass-stained jeans, and filthy tennis shoes, and her hair was pulled back in a stiff, lumpy ponytail. It was the opposite of her typical cleanliness and feminine style, and Izzy was helpless to explain the change.
The common room was situated in an opening in the hallway, and he waited until Amy entered the opposite side to rise and collect his things. He shoved his laptop and charger into his backpack, grabbed the handle of his rolling suitcase, and waited at the opening to the hallway while Amy struggled with the lock to her room.
When she closed the door behind her, Izzy shut his eyes and tried to collect himself. His hazy, half-formed plans for greeting her were shattered by his confusion and anxiety over her late hours and strange appearance.
How could she change so much in just eight weeks? Joe's voice floated through his mind, pointing out his weight loss, lack of sleep, stress, and everything that went along with it: baggy clothing, shadows around his eyes, pinched facial muscles, muscle pain, and forgetfulness. Izzy swallowed hard. How much of this was his fault? If he hadn't overextended himself and chosen to focus on his work first, would their bodies and spirits be wasting away?
He took a few deep breaths, trying to clear out his nerves and rising self-loathing. His mission of making amends to Amy was all that supported him as he moved down the hall and knocked on her door.
There was a loud thud within the room, followed by clattering. "Amy?" Izzy called, trying the doorknob despite knowing that she always locked up. A long pause followed, and the seeds of anxiety bloomed into fear. What if, after begging for favors from professors and traveling here, she refused to let him in? What if this trip was too little, too late? What if-
The door swung inward, revealing a grungy, glassy-eyed Amy. She grabbed the edge of the door for balance, sharply reminding Izzy of how she had clung to the railing at the roller skating rink on their first date. He reached for her, intending to keep her steady, but her shock reminded him that he might not be welcome. "G-good evening," he muttered. His tongue felt thick and unwieldy, as if he had never spoken before.
Amy's eyes moved over him at a slow pace, like the beam of light in a scanner. "Uh, m-may I come in?" Izzy's heart rate increased with every second that she failed to speak, to indicate some sign of welcome. His legs wobbled, and he propped himself up with his suitcase, using it like a cane. When she stepped back, clearing the portal, he scuttled into the room before she could change her mind. He closed the door behind him, securing this tiny victory.
They regarded one another in silence. The mounting tension was unbearable, yet Amy didn't seem to notice it. She was staring at his face, at his shirt, at his hips, and the weight of her dull gaze left him jittery and disconcerted. "Y-yes?"
She cupped his face with her hands. "Oh, Izzy. What happened to you? Are you alright?"
His eyes sank shut, lulled by her concern and her touch. He stepped into her, moving as close as he dared. "I feel much better now."
He felt the rush of air as she gasped, and she pulled him in and squeezed like she intended to squish his organs out. He grunted on impact and remained motionless, too dazed by his shift in fortune to react. An odd mixture of smells rolled over him: sunscreen, sweat, alcohol, a pungent odor that he couldn't identify, and something almost fishy. He breathed in, hoping to encounter her natural scent, but it was buried beneath everything else.
"What's wrong with me?" she muttered. "I'm upset with you, but I- I missed you so much, and you're here- What are you doing here?"
"Amy..." Izzy slid his arms around her in stages, monitoring her reaction. "I'm here to apologize, and to see you."
"But- you said you were too busy?" She drew back enough to look at him, revealing a furrowed brow. "You kept saying you couldn't. So... you could all along?"
"Er..." It suddenly occurred to Izzy that showing up the moment he made a mistake might not have been the ideal choice. But what other option did I have? "I'm sorry. You're right to point out that I should have come of my own volition. But please believe me, I'm not here merely to run damage control."
Her emotions ran eloquently across her face: confusion, hurt, frustration. "I don't understand. If you could have come the whole time, then why did you keep saying that you couldn't?"
She was edging away from him, and Izzy tightened his hold. "Technically, I still don't have time for this. I decided to come, regardless. Partially to beg forgiveness more effectively, yes, and out of concern for you. But, but also... It's so good to see you, even under... these circumstances. While I have no right to complain... Look at me, Amy." Bitterness replaced his entreating tone as he held an arm out. The raglan shirt he was wearing fit fine at the end of the semester, but it drooped from his arm now.
"It's been too much. Classes, work, TA sectionals, student meetings, grading... And all of this exacerbated by the lack of you. I had no idea how much I've come to... How much my happiness depends on you. It was short-sighted and callous of me to assume that distance would pose no problems for us." He lifted his eyes to hers, begging her to believe him. "I was wrong. I'm so sorry."
An arched brow rose, then narrowed, as if she couldn't choose between surprise and skepticism. "We're capable of being apart. That wasn't really the issue? I just, you seemed so- Like it didn't matter at all."
A wry smiled lifted his lips. "I don't doubt that you're perfectly capable of spending time away from me. But myself? I- I've never-" He broke off and sighed, embarrassed and frustrated by his inability to articulate his thoughts. "Perhaps it's because I'm distant, difficult to engage emotionally. You gave me something I've never known before, and now I can't... Can't seem to function without it. Not happily, at any rate."
Amy stared at him for a long interval, then sighed and moved to her bed, stepping over shower supplies scattered over the floor. The mattress groaned as she sat. She bent forward, parked her elbows on her knees, and cradled her face in her hands. "I'm sorry. I just... That's hard to absorb after weeks of feeling forgotten."
Izzy approached the bed cautiously. She didn't react, so he sat beside her, hip-to-hip. "That's fair," he said, hoping she couldn't hear the bitterness aimed at himself. "I was too busy trying to accomplish everything to notice anything else. I wasn't even aware of the changes in my body until Joe said something. Or rather, I felt the muscle pain and fatigue, but failed to attribute it to stress, or to... To missing you and worrying about our relationship."
Amy was silent and still for almost a full minute. When she took a deep breath, Izzy leaned closer and placed a hand on her shoulder, testing the waters of contact.
"So... You're still interested in me?" The whispered words were nearly lost, garbled against her palms. Izzy blinked a few times while he debated if he had understood.
"Of, of course. Why would that change?" He wanted to add that his presence answered that question, but was wary of pressing that point before he knew what she was thinking.
Amy dragged her hands down her face, leaving pink pressure spots that quickly faded. "It seems like a natural conclusion to me. It seemed like you didn't care if I left. And while I was gone, you invited Hana to your home, where I've never been. And you're adopted? Why tell Hana and not me? I don't- I don't understand, unless it's because..."
Whatever emotion had fueled her to say that much drained away, and her eyes grew dewy with moisture. Her shoulder bunched beneath his hand as she sniffled and turned away. "Amy..." Izzy wrapped his arms around her and pressed inward, encouraging her to lean on him, but she stiffened and remained in place. As rejections went, it was slight, but it dug at his heart, regardless. Her thirst for contact and attention from him bordered on troublesome at times, but the lack of it stung like a blow.
It's your own damned fault, fool. "I'm so sorry. Amy, I- While I was at fault, I didn't do any of those things with the intention of hurting you. It was all foolish oversights. The concept of someone taking your place is so unthinkable that I never stopped to consider the implications of inviting Hana over. Please, believe me. I've never viewed her romantically."
Amy stood and knelt in the center of her room, collecting the scattered shower supplies. "I'm sorry, but I really need a quick shower. I wish you hadn't seen me like this. I must look terrible..."
Izzy frowned, struggling to understand the shift in topic. Was she angry? Upset? Did she just want to escape him? "You're lovely," he said, recalling Hana's advice.
She straightened abruptly, staggering as she lost her balance. "I'm not!" she cried. "Don't say that to me for the first time when I look like a mess and smell like..."
Izzy fought to remain calm in the face of the unexpected explosion. "A mermaid?" he prompted. She froze, and a slow smile passed her face. Izzy smiled in return, so absurdly grateful that he stood and approached her.
"Look at you," she muttered, shaking her head. "Suave all of a sudden. I was going to say a 'high fish.'"
"High?" Izzy echoed. "Then- That is marijuana I'm smelling?"
Her grin went sheepish. "Yeah. Dyani smoked it. I drank, but I stopped a while ago."
"I, I see. And you were...?"
"At the forest clearing I told you about, swimming and hanging out. And now I'm disgusting, and you're here, and... I want a shower."
Izzy helped her gather her things in her plastic basket. "How did all of this end up on the floor?"
"I dropped it when you knocked."
"Ah. Apologies." Izzy handed her the basket and glanced at her, trying to gauge her emotions. She kept jumping from one to the next, and he had no idea how to read her. "I'm sorry if the timing was wrong, but I meant what I said."
The bottles rattled as she twitched. "Don't- Don't sweet talk me."
"I'm not. I know this is atypical behavior for me, and that plays a role in your reaction. But I've realized that these observations are often pleasing to the subject, and that I should voice them."
Amy cupped her forehead with her palm. "I'm sorry. Maybe it's the rum talking, but... Are you sure you're Izzy? Showing up out of nowhere and calling me a lovely mermaid..."
He grinned and tipped his head. "Well, that's not precisely what I said."
"There he is. Pedant." Amy took the hand he offered and rose. "I know this is bad timing, but I feel self-conscious. I'll be fast, okay?"
His fingers tightened around her hand. He rose to his toes, placing his face closer to hers. "Alright. But... may I...?"
A faint blush rose beneath her tan. "C-can it wait? I'm gross."
"That's your opinion. I'm sure there are many people who would enjoy kissing a lovely mermaid."
"You just told me that wasn't what you said-"
He grinned and moved closer. "Who's pedantic now?"
A squeak ripped up her throat, half laugh and half squeal. He tried to kiss her, beckoned by her smile, but she backed away and grabbed the towel and change of clothes waiting on her desk. Izzy swallowed a sigh as she moved to the door.
She placed her hand on the knob, but didn't twist it. Izzy heard her slow, steeling breath, watched her body language shift and tighten. "Stars, I missed you."
Before he could react, she was gone. Izzy lowered himself onto her desk chair in clunky stages, like a robot powering down. Exhaustion rolled over him, and he rubbed his temples, willing himself to stay focused. He had no idea what she was thinking, nor how close they were to patching things up.
We've hardly scratched the surface of topics we need to discuss. His shoulders hit the backrest with a thud. What I wouldn't give for some coffee...
He sat straight and slapped his cheeks, hoping to jump-start his brain. Since Amy was freshening up, he decided to do the same. He opened his suitcase, extracted his toiletry case, and set off in search of a bathroom. When he returned, he changed into pajamas and topped them with a green sweater that Amy liked. It was hardly dressing up, but it was the best he could do.
When he placed his old clothes back in the suitcase, he unzipped a side compartment. A glance at the contents triggered nerves, excitement, uncertainty, and fear. Swallowing hard, he plucked out the zip pouch and slipped it under Amy's bed, so it would be on hand later.
With nothing else to do, Izzy removed a folder from his backpack and began to grade student homework at Amy's desk. When she let herself in, he dropped his pen and swiveled the chair around. She was wrapped in a fluffy robe and looking more like herself. "Do you feel better?"
"Much." She placed her shower supplies in the closet and her dirty clothes in a cloth hamper. Izzy met her in the middle of the room, fighting to tear his eyes away from the curves above and below the tie at her waist.
There were exceptions, but he hadn't often thought about missing her physically while they were apart. He was unprepared for the craving for contact that gripped him now that she stood before him. Despite the progress they had made, she seemed stiff, uncomfortable, unsure. It wasn't time to press for anything intimate, but the impulse was difficult to bury.
"Let's be comfortable," he said, nodding towards her bed. "If you'd like, I'll tell you about the adoption." Providing her with the information she lacked seemed like a step in the right direction, and he felt a surge of relief as she followed him to the bed.
"S-sure." She lay on her side on the twin bed, and he slid into the open spot, drawing as near to her as he dared. Amy slid her pillow into place beneath their heads, and for a moment, this felt like one of their typical late-night discussions. The comparison allowed him to ease into his story without difficulty, despite the strangeness of the situation.
"I never knew my biological parents; they died in a car crash when I was an infant. I was at home with a babysitter. My adoptive father, Sam, is a distant relative of my biological father. No nearer relations were willing or able to adopt me. My mother, Yeva, is unable to conceive, but had always wanted a child. Social services extended the offer of adoption to them as a last resort before turning me over to more general methods."
"Izzy..." Amy's eyes misted over, rendering them bright and sparkling in the strong overhead lighting. "I, I had no idea. I'm so sorry."
"I'm sorry too, on their account. My parents say they were good people, and apparently very intelligent. My biological father was a math professor and researcher, and my mother was a pediatrician."
Amy produced a short, trembling laugh. "That does not surprise me."
Izzy allowed himself a grin. "I have pictures of them at home. I'll show you some time."
Her eyes widened, and her hand landed on his hip. Izzy interpreted this as an invitation to touch, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. "When I was very young, probably about four, I was wandering out of bed at night. I overheard my parents discussing the adoption. I was..."
A lump formed in his throat, blocking out the next words. Izzy cleared it out and offered Amy a rueful smile. Despite having worked through this issue with his parents, the memory of that night was still raw.
"Frankly, I was devastated. Especially because my mother... She asked my father if he suspected I had sensed that I wasn't her real son. She didn't intend to imply distance from me; she was merely making the distinction that she didn't give birth to me. But I was too young to realize that."
She whispered his name, two syllables overflowing with concern and compassion. Izzy embraced her, and since she nuzzled into him, he remained close. "It's alright now, truly. But at the time... As a child, I was perceived as bright, but not exceptionally so. I was introverted, already awkward and lacking in social skills. It didn't bother me, because I loved my father and adored my mother. But then... I interpreted that overheard conversation as a disavowal of connection to me. I grew convinced that they didn't see me as their son, that I was a costly burden, that I was unloved. And I lacked the ability and courage to bring the topic up. Those isolated feelings festered, and before long, I convinced myself that I lacked their love because I didn't deserve it."
Amy squeezed him and tried to speak, no doubt to defend a child that no longer existed. Izzy stalled her by launching back into his narrative. "Around this time, my father brought home a laptop from work, and naturally, the new object drew my curiosity. Through some mixture of luck and perseverance, I managed to connect to the internet and perform a search for what I was obsessed with at the time: outer space. And when all of that information appeared before my eyes like magic on the screen... Well, I suppose that was the beginning of an enduring partnership."
"I requested a laptop of my own. When I was using it, I didn't feel lonely or awkward, and I didn't question my self-worth. I just... Just focused and learned. Before long, I was using every moment outside of school and homework to learn through my laptop, and to analyze data and program as I grew older. I did my best to ignore the growing distance between myself and my parents, and I progressed from introverted to isolated."
"As you can imagine, my parents were concerned about me. They tried to talk to me about joining clubs, making friends, and turning off the computer sometimes, to no effect. Things went on like that until I reached middle school, when my parents brought up the adoption on their own."
He breathed in deeply and rested his chin on Amy's head, partially to hide his expression and partially to avoid her wet eyes. "We talked about it for a long time, and... I finally heard things that I needed to hear: that I am their son, that they love me, that they're proud of me. The ironic thing is that they meant to tell me earlier, but they feared exacerbating my isolation by revealing that I was adopted."
"When you knew the whole time," Amy said. "And that's why you withdrew."
"Mm." He rubbed her back, unsure of whether he was comforting Amy or himself. "I… I cried," he added, a detail he had omitted from Joe, the only person outside of his family who knew this story. "I've never cried like that, before or since. With just one conversation, so many insecurities fell away. Obviously things didn't change overnight, but since then, I've progressed to a point where I view my parents as... Well, my parents. My family. I no longer think about the fact that I am adopted, and when it does come up, it's not a sensitive topic. So when Hana pointed out that I don't look like my parents, I simply replied that we're not biologically related."
Her hands slid down his chest and twitched nervously along his ribs. "O-oh..."
"I'm not placing blame on you for reacting as you did," Izzy said. "I should have told you this earlier."
Amy cleared her throat and backed away enough to look at him. "It, it does explain a lot about you."
Izzy nodded, allowing the point. "And I realize now why inviting Hana home before you was a problem. But... I'm afraid it's... It's much easier for me to have Hana in my home than you."
Amy wiped her eyes, scowled, and tipped her head. "Why?"
Izzy's glance slid from her face to the pillow. "My... My ex came over frequently. She was always eating with us, asking for homework help, wanting me to drive her places and meet her friends. My parents were ecstatic about my social involvement at first. But as time went on, their opinion of her soured, although they didn't mention it to me. In retrospect, I should have noticed my mother's shift from inviting to cautious, but... Of course I didn't."
Izzy paused, reluctant to continue and mired in bitter memories. "So... You're afraid your mom won't like me?" Amy asked. He blinked and returned his attention to her.
"Not at all. In fact, she told me today that she already likes you, based on..." Faint heat rose to his face, but he forced himself to press on. "Based on the way I speak of you, and how I behave when I interact with you on my phone around her."
A huge, goofy smile formed on her face, and Izzy grinned in response. It was the happiest he had seen her so far, and the temptation to scrap this conversation in favor of something more interesting was overwhelming. He was just leaning in for a kiss when Amy said, "So I should come over, right?"
He froze, and his hands slid to her hips, gripping them tightly. "Yes. I insist that you do. But the delay was caused by... I, I didn't want... Of course this is all in my mind, but it's so... tarnished."
"Your house?"
"Er... my bedroom, specifically. I know it's foolish, but..."
If her head tipped any further, her neck would be in danger of snapping. "Your bedroom? But why-"
The moment she understood was painfully evident. Her eyes popped open, and she looked away and fell silent. "We don't... have to do anything like that," she said at last. "I just want to meet your parents and see where you live. I'm not trying to-"
"I know." His intention was to comfort her, but his voice bordered on shrill. He cleared his throat and repeated himself, but she talked over him, babbling nervously.
"Do you, do you have a guest room? I don't have to touch your bed at all-"
"We do, but that's not the issue. I feel sick when I imagine you in the spaces she inhabited, smearing memories of her on realities with you. Although I want you to come home, I cannot do that to either of us."
Amy stared at him, flushed and twitchy, for a long time. Finally, she buried her face in his chest and whispered, "I know she hurt you. But please, please don't let that interfere with us. I know you can't magically make that happen, but... Trust me. Trust us. It might be hard at first, but maybe as we make memories there, you can think of me in those spaces, instead of her." Her hands slid along his back, as if searching for a safe place to rest. "Er- That sounds pretty full of myself-"
"Not at all." Izzy collected her hands in his and kissed her fingertips. He lingered over them, waiting for the burning knot of muscle in his chest to calm. "I can't describe how great of a relief that would be. And my parents promised to assist me, too. My mother is purchasing a new bed and bedding set, so although the bed will inhabit the same space, it won't be the same object. And from now on, I promise to inform you of these issues, so that you'll understand my behavior. So... Although I don't deserve it, can you forgive me?"
Amy tried to speak, but made a choking sound instead. "Don't cry," Izzy murmured, wiping away the beads forming in her eyes. She sniffled, then pressed her lips to his.
A shiver rippled over him, followed by a surge of heat. He leaned over her, tipping them so that he was on top, unconsciously seizing control of the kiss. She moaned and pulled him in, emboldening him, and he deepened the kiss and allowed his hands to roam. The taste of her mouth, the scent of her breath, the familiar feeling of her body arching into his, the novel sensation of curves forming and falling against his palms... His anxiety over the half-formed plan encased in a zip pouch beneath the bed, though strong, was suddenly less inhibiting.
"Amy... I hope my timing isn't inappropriate- frankly, I don't know what I'm doing-" He paused, and she tipped her head, eyes wide and dazed. A portion of her hair cascaded down her shoulder, tussled from the roots by his touch and the contact with her pillow. A wave of attraction sent his head spinning, but not enough to completely mask the fear churning in his gut.
She disentangled her arms from the crush of bodies and cupped his cheeks. The intention was probably to comfort him, but her hands traveled down, roaming over his shoulders, his back, and straining further. Her skin was hot and turning pink, and suddenly, it was hard to support his weight. He sank onto her, feeling the peaks and recesses of her body.
"I thought that if I offered you something you've asked for in the past, it might... Might serve as evidence that I..." The rest of the explanation refused to follow, leaving him slack-jawed and blushing before the woman he so desperately needed to please. Foul language exploded through his mind, further confusing his tongue.
Growing desperate, he reached under the bed and grabbed the zip pouch. His hands trembled as he opened it and handed it to Amy. In other circumstances, her baffled expression might have amused him, but his reaction now was a high-pitched sound that she pretended not to hear.
Or perhaps she truly didn't notice it. She was staring into the pouch, turning redder by the second. Izzy swallowed a nervous cough as she removed the packet of condoms and the small lubricant bottle. It bounced around his trachea like a coin clinking down the walls of a well.
When he purchased those items at a convenience store beside the train station, Izzy hadn't been able to predict Amy's response to his offer. But while he hadn't envisioned instant acceptance, he was unprepared for her complete and utter astonishment. "I-Izzy, what…"
"You, you've asked me for this," he reminded her. "I thought you wanted…?"
She seemed to be putting herself together piece by piece, like a Lego sculpture reassembling itself. After a long interval of cycling through expressions while staring into the pouch, she lifted her eyes to his. They were unreadable, not because of an effort to dissemble, but because of the cacophony of emotions behind her dark irises. "Why now? I thought you weren't ready."
Izzy nodded, grateful to hear a question that he could answer. "I want to demonstrate my commitment to you. I want to please you, and to show you how much I value and desire you. I want, so desperately, to be forgiven."
Her front teeth sank deeply into her lower lip, and at first, Izzy read the gesture as desire. Excitement and fear raced across his network of nerves like bodies plummeting down zip lines, but the sensation faded as he recognized anxiety in her nibbling. With an expression of deep pain, she handed the pouch back to him. He was too confused and high-strung to accept it, so she dropped it on the side of the bed. "A-Amy?"
Her eyes pinched shut, cutting off access to the clearest indicator of her thoughts. "If we have sex… The reason for it- the only reason- should be because we want to."
"I do want to," he protested. She grimaced and shook her head. Growing frantic, Izzy took her hand and guided it down his torso, placing it over the button securing the fly of his pajama pants. A strangled sound burst from her throat, morphing into a moan that sent a fresh flash of heat over his body. A second, more potent jolt followed as her fingers curled around his sex.
Then she released him and jerked her hand away. "Don't- Don't- This is already hard for me-"
Despite his desire to prove his interest, Izzy backed away, lifting his body from hers. "Are you alright? If you have any reservations, then of course-"
She ran her fingertips along his lips, shushing and caressing in one motion. "I don't, but you do."
"Me? But- But I made the offer. I brought the supplies. Is this not sufficient evidence…?" He tried in vain to complete the thought, too baffled and overwhelmed to continue.
"Izzy…" She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him back in, embracing him, trying to soothe away his agitation. "Consent should be joyful, but look at you." She swept a hand over his forehead, then held her palm out, revealing the moisture there. "You're sweating bullets."
He flinched and drew back. "It can hardly be helped. I'm nervous."
"And it's okay to be nervous. But it's not okay to force yourself for my sake." The earnest compassion slipped off her face, replaced by pain. "I'm so, so sorry I pressured you for sex in the past. I should have known better. I know how much it can hurt to do that before you're ready, and I still…"
"What?" It was no good; Izzy was feeling and thinking too much, and he stalled like a loading program. "I don't- You never pressured me. You offered yourself to me, then agreed to wait when I hesitated. How is that problematic?"
Little by little, her muscles relaxed. "Thank you. But still, I feel bad. You said sex is something you've denied me, and… To be honest, I have thought that, myself. But it's not like you owe it to me because we're together." She hid her face in her hands, using them like a mask. "I'm so sorry. I want you so much. Honestly, Izzy? If you really do want this, if this isn't you extending yourself hoping to be forgiven… You could seduce me, and I don't know if I could…"
Izzy blinked, distracted by the concept of him behaving seductively. What did that entail for a man, particularly a scrawny, antisocial nerd? And yet, here he was, lying atop a woman who was professing her attraction. And was it his imagination, or was the mention of seduction more of a request than a suggestion?
She took a deep, trembling breath and lowered her hands enough to look him in the eye. "Just answer me this: would you have made this offer if you didn't feel a need to repay a debt to me?"
He yearned to say yes; one syllable could end his distress, could grant intimate access to the body beneath him and the beloved creature housed within. All he had to do was speak. All he had to do was lie.
But he had already answered the question by listing his motives, and even if he could manage to lie to her face, she would catch him at it. He slid back into her, burying his face in her neck. "We can't put this off forever. I don't want further delay." Although a tiny part of him knew that his excessive nerves were due, in part, to being unprepared for sex, the missed opportunity still hurt.
She dropped a cascade of kisses over his cheek with a lighthearted air that contrasted with the gloom rising inside of him. "We won't put it off forever. Once we've worked things out, we'll take baby steps. We'll figure this out together, okay?"
He knew that she was trying to cheer him up, that she was offering him an easy exit to a conversation that could have soured into brooding silence. He told himself to let it go, to allow her to change the subject. Instead, he pressed himself into her, tightening his grip around her waist.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "The fact that I have these reservations, even though I trust and desire you… It makes me feel so impotent. Emasculated. I want to do this; I should be able to do this. Why am I so…?"
"Wonderful. You're wonderful, and I love you." She kissed his neck, targeting that weak spot near his shoulder. His humorless laugh fizzled into a shocked grunt as a tremor rippled over him.
He slid off of her and lay beside her, freeing himself from the distraction of her touch and gaining a clearer view of her face. "Wonderful people generally don't require hasty train trips across states to salvage relationships they damaged."
To his surprise, she shrugged and smiled. "Wonderful people are still people. They make mistakes."
His eyes narrowed as he studied her. "I must confess that I cannot guess what you're thinking. Am I forgiven? If there's anything you need to say to me, any lingering insecurity, please don't hold back; my goal is improvement."
She was silent for a long time, eyes averted with thought. "I think... You ask a lot of me as a girlfriend, and after I try my best to meet your needs, I'm often left unsure of where I stand."
"Alright." Izzy didn't quite understand her, but he was grateful for a response. If she was willing to talk, he could gather more information with the appropriate questions. "What should I do?"
"Coming here was a start. I'm really- I'm so happy you're here-" She sniffled, and Izzy waited, dumbstruck and guilty, as the cheerful front she had used to soothe him fell apart.
"Do you know what I thought?" she whispered. Her shoulders rose and bunched up, and Izzy winced, anticipating the worst. "I never thought you were cheating on me, not really. But I was sure that you were letting go of me, either to be with someone else or because work was more interesting."
"Amy! That's not-" He paused and breathed deeply, fighting the instinctive surge of denial. "I never intended- I assure you, I've no desire to part with you." His imagination presented an image of Amy sobbing over those fears on the same bed they shared now, and his heart constricted. He pulled her against him and squeezed until she squeaked.
She shifted uncomfortably. "I am glad to hear you say that, but... I really need you to show it. I want your love and your presence. I know you've got things to do, but if I'm going to be with you, then... Well, I want to be with you."
Her words echoed Hana's written advice, and for a moment, Izzy wondered if women shared a secret mental frequency that men simply could not tune into. "I understand. I'm aware now that I took on too many duties, and that my relationships suffered as a result. If it helps, I've decided not to renew my position as a TA."
"Oh?" Her lips curved into a tiny smile. "So no more sectionals, office hours, and grading?"
"Exactly. I'll try to be more cognizant of how I'm splitting up my time, but I'm afraid I do have to ask you to speak up if I'm negligent."
She clonked her forehead against his. "I don't like pushing you, but I think I need to get over that."
"Amy, I..." He took her hand and turned it, smiling at the sight of his ring around her finger. "I was hoping you would remember how I feel about you whenever you look at your ring."
Her face scrunched up as she backed away. "Izzy, it's a ring. I love it, but it's inanimate. You're the one who needs to show me how you feel."
"Er..." He released her hand and cleared his throat. "Um, well. When you put it that way, I feel rather foolish."
Amy sighed and plopped her head against the pillow. "Don't. I've gotten all confused about what matters recently, myself. There's this girl here, Angela. Her parents have a lot of money, and her boyfriend is in the same situation. She keeps bragging about gifts from him, and about how they have this dangerous, forbidden relationship. He's been visiting her here for a long time now, using his parent's money to do what they don't want him to do. It's gotten me all out of sorts. Suddenly, I catch myself wondering why you don't send me expensive presents and flowers, why you don't drop everything so you can stay here with me. And I love that you work hard and achieve so much! Having you shadow me for weeks and living off my board from my job would not be attractive. So why am I so damned jealous?"
"That doesn't sound like you, but..." Sighing, he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling instead of her troubled expression. "You likely began desiring more obvious signs of my attachment when I failed to provide the ones you prefer. Don't feel guilty about your jealousy; you wouldn't have experienced it if I treated you better."
After a long pause, Amy tilted and snuggled into him. "Um... I know we can't just turn feelings off, but I would really like to put this behind us."
His heart jumped, but he tried to present a calm exterior. "Am I forgiven?"
She patted his back, then pushed him into her. "You're aware of the problem, and you promised to do better. I forgive you."
With those words, the tension that had plagued him for hours vanished, taking the frantic energy with it. He was instantly limp and exhausted, as weary as a marching soldier falling into camp at last. "Thank you. Truly."
"Um- It did really hurt though, Izzy. I'm not trying to make you feel bad- I want both of us to feel better-"
Her expression was aching, and he kissed her to stopper her faltering words. "I know. I'm aware of how deeply I've hurt you, and of how generous your forgiveness is. And even if you offered me infinite chances, I cannot stand to hurt you again. It's incumbent on me to improve."
Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing his face for those tiny signals that he so often overlooked. Finally, satisfied with whatever she found, she nodded and settled back down against him. "I believe you. It's so late; can we sleep?"
Fatigue was tugging him under, so he agreed, turned off the light, and returned to the bed. She wrapped her arms around him, and the combination of relief and comfort propelled him to unconsciousness with rare speed.
"Good night," he said, forcing the words through a thick veil of exhaustion. "Thank you for forgiving me." More words chattered in his brain, but they garbled into a meaningless stream. For now, that would have to suffice.
She settled her head beside his on the pillow. "Thank you for coming."
He was already too far gone to feel the kiss she pressed to his cheek, but he smiled regardless, carrying the knowledge that he was forgiven and lying beside her into his dreams.
Author's Notes: They can't fix everything in one conversation, but it's a good start.
I'm trying to work out where to take this story after the summer arc. I have ideas for Izzy and Amy, but the story has focused heavily on them recently, and I have to figure out what the others are up to… Hmm!
Growing Up with You will be updated next. Thank you so much for reading, and please remember to review! Have a great day!
