Page 6 of Open Water
"The swap. You and Remy taking the other room so Liam and I could—"
"Oh. That." He dipped his fry in ketchup with studied casualness. "That was Remy's idea, actually."
"Remy's idea."
"Yeah. He came up to me before we checked in and said he thought you and Liam could use some privacy. His words. 'Those two need a room with a lock before they combust in public and ruin everyone's weekend.'"
I almost choked on my burger. "He said that?"
"Remy's observant. Also blunt. It's a combination."
"So you two just... volunteered to room together."
"It wasn't a hardship." Ethan picked up another fry. His ears were going slightly pink at the tips which meant he was deflecting. Barely noticeable unless you'd known him for two years and I'd known him for two years.
"How was that?" I asked. Casual. The way you ask about the weather.
"How was what?"
"Rooming with Remy."
"Fine. He's clean. Doesn't snore." Ethan bit into his burger. Conversation over, apparently.
"You sat together on the bus too."
Ethan looked at me over his burger. The look that saidI see what you're doing and I'm not participating."Eat your food, Harrington."
I let it go for now. But the pink hadn't left his ears, and he'd changed the subject too fast, and Remy's name had done something to his voice that I recognized because Liam's name did the same thing to mine.
We ate. The diner was half-empty. The mid-afternoon dead zone. A couple in a booth by the door sharing a milkshake. An old guy at the counter reading a newspaper. The waitress refilling coffees.
"Can I ask you something?" I said.
"You're going to anyway."
"Have you ever had sex… sex?"
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Like real sex…" I raised my eyebrows, I didn't want to say the word.
Ethan set his burger down. Wiped his hands on his napkin. And looked at me… then it hit him.
"Ohh…" He laughed. "Yes," he said.
"What's it like?"
"Are you interviewing me for a health class project, or is this a real question?"
"Real question. Liam and I have done a lot. Just not that… yet. But I want to."
He leaned back against the booth. Crossed his arms. Studying me.
"It's... a lot of things," he said. "Depends on the person. Depends on whether you trust them. Depends on whether you've done the homework."
"The homework?"
"Prep. Communication. Going slow. You can't just—" He waved his hand. "Do you want to bottom?"
