Isla and the Happily Ever After
Page 72

He removes my compass necklace last.
Our kisses are soft. Teasing. Restrained. Our skin is clammy, and then warm, and then hot. Our kisses grow longer. Our breathing gets faster. I fumble for a condom. He presses against me, and it feels so good, so intense that I cry out. He meets my gaze to make sure that everything is all right, everything is more than all right, and my h*ps arch against him in response. His eyes close in rapture, and he’s guiding my body, and we’re finding our rhythm, and we’re together again, at last.
We can’t say the words enough.
I love you.
They’re a chant through the night as we move together slowly. Then quickly. Slowly. Then quickly. We don’t fall asleep until the break of dawn. Josh’s body curls around mine. Our hands clasp together over my heart. We’re still in this position when my alarm rattles us awake an hour later. I roll over and turn it off, groaning with deep annoyance, and then roll back into him. I resettle against his chest. I sigh happily.
He moves my tentacle arms away from his body. “Mm, no you don’t,” he mumbles.
I give a tiny whimper.
“School,” he says.
“But you’re here. That’s not fair.”
He hugs me, despite himself. “I have to pick up my suitcase. It’s still in Meredith’s room at the hostel. And I wanna say goodbye to everyone before they leave.”
“Can’t I do that with you?”
Josh nuzzles his nose against my cheek. “I’ll be here when you return.”
“I fixed my door. You’ll need a key.”
“I’ll take good care of it.”
“What if I won’t give it to you?”
“Then I’ll break the door again.”
“This dormitory makes me feel so safe.”
He smiles and pushes me from the bed. “Gooooooooo.”
I force him to get ready with me. The building is loud and active now, so we can move around without tiptoeing. We shower and brush our teeth and dry our hair, and everything seems twice the miracle that it did in Barcelona. Because this time we know it can’t be taken away from us. This will be our future.
His clothes are still wet, so I dry his pants with my hair dryer and give him back the T-shirt that he gave me over Thanksgiving. It’s tucked inside one of my pillows. When he sees it, he looks sad and happy and amazed. “I thought you probably threw this away. I still sleep with the scarf you gave me.”
“I want that back, you know.”
“The scarf?”
I smile. “That shirt.”
Josh returns my smile as he pulls the shirt over his head. “I’ll give it back with extra me-scent.”
I hug him, tucking my head against his chest. “Do I really have to go to school today?”
“I’m not getting you in trouble again.”
I look pointedly at my closed door. And then back at him.
“Okay.” He grins. “Maybe I’m willing to throw you under the bus for that one.”
When Kurt hears that Josh is in my bedroom, he insists on sneaking back to the dorm with me for lunch. I’m proud of him for breaking another rule, but I’m worried about what will happen. There’s not the slightest hesitation when they see each other. Josh greets Kurt with the same genuine and enthusiastic embrace that he gave St. Clair.
“I hope those are tears of happiness,” Kurt says, when he looks at me.
“They are,” I say.
“I’m glad you’re back together,” Kurt tells Josh. “And I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too,” Josh says.
“I like Isla better when you’re dating. I didn’t think that would be true – I thought I liked her more without you – but that wasn’t the case at all.”
Josh laughs. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“She’s been miserable company,” Kurt says.
Josh laughs harder, delighted for this news, as I whack Kurt’s arm. But I’m grinning, too.
“Will you be staying here?” Kurt asks Josh.
Josh and I immediately tense. I’m sure he’s reliving the same memory – Kurt, unable to lie. Barcelona.
“I am,” Josh says. “I don’t want to get Isla in trouble, but I’m good at keeping quiet.”
“I won’t say anything to anyone,” Kurt says quickly. “And if Nate corners me, I’ll tell him you’ve been staying at a hostel. Not here.”
I can tell that Josh is as surprised as I am. “I appreciate that,” he says. “But I won’t let you lie for me. If we’re caught, we’ll deal with the consequences ourselves.”
Kurt ponders this for a moment. “You’ve changed.”
Josh smiles. “So have you.”
“Oh,” Kurt says. “You guys should tell Hattie this time, though.”
“Definitely,” Josh and I say together.
We stay together happily and quietly. Josh doesn’t let me skip any more school lunches or break any additional rules. Only the big, obvious, boy-in-my-room one.
It’s wonderful sharing a space with him.
While I do my homework, he draws. We each have our own space inside of this shared space. I imagine that our apartment next fall might feel like this. The thought fills me with more joy than I thought possible. I borrow Hattie’s television, and from the opening ceremonies onward, the games are never turned off. The spirit of the events – of being in the host country – is thrilling. But, even better, the sound of the television is incredibly handy when it comes to muffling untoward noises.
As always, the women’s figure skating isn’t until the end of the games. The short programme is first, and we’re excited when Cricket’s twin, Calliope, bursts into first place with an acrobatically powerful performance. In the stands, the camera shows Cricket and Lola exploding from their seats with joy, but the announcers focus on Calliope’s curse instead. Predictions are made that she’ll be too scared to pull off her second event.
“Why can’t they let her enjoy this moment?” I say.
“Don’t worry,” Josh says. “Assholes always eat their own words.”
Two nights later, it happens. It’s the free skate. Her gaze is sharp, and her black costume is shimmering and transcendent. Her music is from the 1968 film Romeo and Juliet, and she becomes Juliet – in love, in death – before the entire world. She wins the gold medal by a landslide. Cricket and Lola clutch each other and cry. I even see Anna and St. Clair jumping up and down behind them. But Calliope is all triumphant grin.