Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
"No one asked you." With that, Andrew caught Neil's face in his hands and leaned in.
Nicky's drugged assault aside, Neil hadn't kissed anyone in four years. The last girl was a scrawny French-Canadian who'd held him with just her fingertips and kissed like she was afraid of smudging her tacky-bright lipstick. Neil couldn't remember her name or face anymore. He remembered only how unsatisfying the illicit encounter had been and how furious his mother was when she found them. That awkward peck wasn't worth the punishment that had followed.
This was nothing like that.
Andrew kissed him like this was a fight with their lives on the line, like his world stopped and started with Neil's mouth. Neil's heart stuttered to a stop at the first hard press of lips against his and he reached up without thinking. His hand made it as far as Andrew's jaw before he remembered Andrew didn't like to be touched. Neil caught hold of Andrew's coat sleeve instead and knotted his fingers in the heavy wool.
The touch was a trigger. Andrew leaned back just enough to say, "Tell me no."
Neil's lips were sore; his skin was buzzing. He felt winded, like he'd survived a half-marathon. He felt strong, like he could run another five more. Panic threatened to tear his stomach to shreds. Common sense said to refuse this and retreat before they both did something they'd regret. But Renee said Andrew regretted nothing, and Neil wouldn't live long enough for it to matter. He hadn't figured out which way to lean before Andrew pried Neil's hand off his coat.
"Let go," Andrew said. "I am not doing this with you right now."
He practically shoved Neil's arm away from him and leaned back out of Neil's space. He picked up his crumpled cigarette butt, decided in a glance it wasn't salvageable, and dug his pack out of his pocket again. Neil watched him until it was lit, tracking the new tension in Andrew's shoulders and the violence in his short movements. He thought he should say something, but he didn't know where to start. Andrew's kiss and abrupt retreat were equally bewildering.
Andrew managed only one drag before he crushed his second cigarette beside the first. He lit a third anyway, but Neil reached out and took it from him. It was a good sign, maybe, that Andrew didn't react to the theft. Neil set the stick beside his own dropped cigarette and looked back at Andrew. Andrew chucked his pack off to one side and tucked his knee to his chest.
Neil should let it go, but he needed to understand. "Why not?"
"Because you're too stupid to tell me no," Andrew said.
"And you don't want me to tell you yes?"
"This isn't yes. This is a nervous breakdown. I know the difference even if you don't." Andrew dug his thumb into his lower lip like he could erase the weight of Neil's mouth and fixed his stare on the horizon. "I won't be like them. I won't let you let me be."
Neil opened his mouth, closed it, and tried again. "The next time one of them says you're soulless I might have to fight them."
"Ninety-two percent," Andrew said, "going on ninety-three."
It wasn't funny—none of this was—but that response was so obnoxious and so typically Andrew that Neil couldn't help but smile. He forced it off his face before Andrew noticed and looked out at the campus again.
For the first time that day, maybe for the first time that rocky week, he could breathe without feeling like his chest was pulling too tight. As his tension seeped away, the weight of Neil's exhaustion came back, but this time it was genuine tiredness. He hadn't slept last night and had only snatched an hour's rest in the car. Sleeping now would throw the rest of his weekend off, but Neil didn't care. He scooped Andrew's key up and got to his feet.
"Hey," he said, but Andrew didn't look at him. "Thank you."
"Go away before I push you off the side," Andrew said.
"Do it. I'd drag you with me," Neil reminded him, and left Andrew to his thoughts.
By some miracle his room was empty. Neil still closed the bedroom door before changing into sweats. He set his alarm to wake him around dinnertime, then pushed it back when his thoughts kept him up for another hour. He dragged his hand out from under the blanket and unclenched his fist to inspect his newest possession. The key's teeth had left indents along the flesh of his thumb. Neil worked the key onto his key ring beside Andrew's old car key and watched them sway without really seeing them.
Neil gave up fantasizing shortly after his mother beat his interest in intimacy out of him. He still had needs, but he dealt with them with no more attention than he might afford hunger or thirst. Maybe refusing to want anything else was a coping mechanism. He couldn't have it, so there was no point resenting its absence. Paranoia helped reinforce that mindset over the years until keeping people at arm's length was the only logical thing to do.
Befriending the Foxes was inadvisable but inevitable. Kissing one of them was unthinkable and went against everything he knew. Neil hadn't meant to toe that line or invite Andrew across it. Chances were he wouldn't have to worry about it, considering Andrew's rather vocal dislike of him and his serious boundary issues. Andrew wasn't like Nicky, who would wheedle and argue and protest if Neil said it was a bad idea. If Neil turned him down flat Andrew would never ask why or bring it up again. It'd be like nothing ever happened, and Neil could live out the last few months of his life in peace.
But was this peace or cowardice, and was this survival or avoidance? Neil could tell himself all day long what the smart thing to do was, but if he really cared that much about what was smart he wouldn't have come here in the first place. He would have left when he found out the Moriyamas were criminals or when Riko called him by his real name or when Riko dared him to trade his safety for Andrew's. Neil had been doing one stupid thing after another all year long and this had turned into the best year of his life.