chapter twenty-three

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harris

Yet another week passes before Mom deigns to unground me. By this time, we're in mid-June, and the summer weather is here in full-swing. It's raining today, and hard at that; one of those warm summer rains that seems unprecedented, the kind where the sky goes from clear and blue to dark and grey, where the heavens seem to just open up and flood the streets, maybe peoples' basements if they're really unlucky.

Mom has a couple days off, so she's driving to Minneapolis to do some shopping. "You can be ungrounded," she says on her way out the door, rolling suitcase in tow, "but I really don't feel like sitting in a car with you for three hours. Don't wait up."

I'm sure her reasoning behind ungrounding me now is because she figures I'll use her being gone to misbehave anyways. She's always been like that—you don't have to put effort into delivering and enforcing punishments if you make it difficult for someone to commit a punishable offense. As a kid, I never wanted to stress her out, so it worked until about high school.

I do feel terrible about disappointing her, I really do. But I'm trying not to feel terrible about anything that happened that night. The only thing that I could have done better was drinking responsibly. So I've decided I'm just going to avoid parties, at least for a little while. Drinking, too. I haven't told her this, because she'll think I'm sucking up or something, but it's probably for the best. Instead, I'll be focusing on preparing for the next track season, and on Sebastian.

Things have been progressing between the two of us. We're ramping up to a place of intimacy I know he hasn't explored before, but I think I'm the only one who's nervous. It's not the Liam thing, I don't think. I just want him to have a good time, as good of a one as I have with him.

          Seb: I'm so bummed, I really wanted to go to the quarry again :////
          Me: I mean, forget the cliff, we could always go swimming...
          Seb: Swimming in Wetspring Quarry sounds gross, no thanks
          Seb: Remember the sign that says "There's dead things and poop in here"??????? No thanks.
          Me: What you don't want to bathe in poop water with me while we risk being struck by lightning?
          Me: I see how it is
          Me: Hater
          Seb: Yes, I hate you.
          Me: It's because I'm gay, isn't it

It's been a while since we made out. The past week or so ended up crazy, what with the whole party thing, but just hanging out with him and stealing small moments of intimacy—small kisses goodbye; lacing our fingers together while watching movies on the couch or playing board games; etc.—have been more than enough.

We had planned to go get frisky on the cliff again, but this time by starlight—Grandma was going to vouch for me before the un-grounding, because she's just the freaking best. But this storm isn't supposed to stop for quite some time, so I don't think the cliff will be an option tonight, unfortunately. However, I do have a slightly better, less bug-ridden option.

I call Seb, and he picks up on the second ring. "What's up?" he asks. Even his voice soothes me somehow.

"What if I told you you could come over like, right now," I tell him, "and we could get up to whateeever you'd like, with the added bonus of being as loud as you'd like, because my mom is gone."

"Your mom is gone? Where is she?"

"Minneapolis. She had a couple days off so she's doing a little self-care trip. And hitting Costco."

"Oh, slay." He clears his throat. "I mean, I need to shower, but I could come over. I told my parents I was sleeping over at your place tonight, so I could be there for, like, I dunno, well over twenty-six hours."

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