“Want to stab me with it next time? I’ll totally let you.”
“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
“Can’t hurt me. I’m used to needles. How do you think I got all these tattoos?” I say with a smirk. “I’ll even let you test my blood sugar. And don’t worry, my fingertips are numb from this cold anyway, so I won’t feel a thing. Did you know they make these continuous glucose monitors now, so I wouldn’t have to prick my fingers anymore?”
“That’s cool.”
“Yeah, but they’re crazy expensive. I don’t think Thomas will help me get one.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I mean I should ask, but I don’t want to bother him with it.” I really just don’t want to feel the rejection, so I’ve been avoiding the topic, but I don’t say that.
Instead, I finish off my granola bar and add, “Thomas doesn’t want a kid, not really. I just kind of happened, and he’s stuck with me. I’m like gum stuck on the bottom of your shoe. You scrape and scrape, but it never really goes away. Just impossibly sticks for years. And then you look at it one day and go,huh, still there. Shame.”
August hands me an apple and I swat it from his hand.
“I don’t think….” August begins, watching that piece of offensive fruit roll away.
“It’s okay. I’ve come to terms with it.” I grab onto my snack bag, shuffle through it, and pull out a sucker. I pop it into my mouth and nearly groan as the sweetness hits my tongue. “Look, I’m not saying he’s a bad man. He’s exactly what I expected…uninterested and uninvolved. I don’t want any more than that anyway.”
August watches me, I’m sitting cross-legged, with my legs obsessively bouncing. The emergency blanket crinkles with each movement as I frantically pop the sucker in and out of my mouth. I’m a loud, ridiculous mess while he still looks impeccable and unshakable. Maybe a little more real in this moment, but those scratches on his face and his slightly mussed hair only make him hotter.
“So, what are we going to do today?” I ask, hoping he just yells “Sex!” and then reaches between my legs to make a grab for it.
My mind is going off the rails. It’s full speed ahead now.
But August just glances outside. “Not sure. At least the sun’s out,” he says. “Our parents must have reported us missing by now. Maybe we should send up a flare in case anyone is looking for us.”
“Oh, hell yes. Is it a flare gun you shoot? Can I do it?” I ask, trying to distract myself. It’s not really working. I still want to fuck.
“Yeah,” August replies, pulling on his shoes and grabbing the flare gun. “You coming?”
“I wish,” I mutter and then scamper outside after him.
The cold air assaults me, but the sun shining down on us is a nice reprieve from the chill.
August moves to stand behind me and presses his body against mine as he places the flare gun in my hands. I can’t help but nestle my ass into his groin and give his dick a little shimmie shake. He huffs a laugh but doesn’t stop me, he just holds my arms up as he aims the gun in the air. I should grumble because I can shoot the damn thing in the right direction on my own. But I get it, there is a small chance I’ll end up blowing out the windshield or burning the forest down.
Yeah, I know, it’s winter and things won’t catch fire, but I have the worst fucking luck.
Just look at who birthed me––doesn’t get any worse than that.
Karma is a bitch, and I was Jack the Ripper in a past life.
The gun shoots with a blast, and I watch the orange flare arch into the sky. When it finally dissipates, I turn to look at August with a wide smile on my face.
“I want to do that again. How many do you have?”
He presses a small kiss to the tip of my nose.
Andoh my god, my heart grows ten sizes bigger. It won’t fit in my chest anymore. It will have to live outside my body. Maybe August can tuck it away and keep it safe.
I stare at him and then blurt, “I want to fuck. Like, I want to spend the morning fucking you. We might die tomorrow, or today, and I want to do all the filthy things with you before I go. After that, Jesus can take me. Or Satan. Either way is fine with me.”
August clears his throat, and his cheeks flush, and then I crunch down on my sucker because I amsuch an idiot.
Ugh, why the hell can’t I just keep my mouth shut? Normal people don’t go blurting stuff like that. They work towards it, flirt a little. Maybe throw out some hints. But not me. I am about as subtle as a rocket-launcher.