Page 84 of Such Sharp Teeth
“I don’t just like you because I had a crush on you in high school,” he says.
“I also don’t like you because I had a crush on you in high school.”
“Cute.”
“Because I didn’t have a crush on you in high school.”
“Gathered that, thanks.”
“Sorry.” I pull the blanket down over my face.
“I’m not playing relationship chicken,” he says. “I want to be with you. I want to see where this goes.”
“You say that now.”
“What are you alluding to?”
“Nothing,” I say from inside my safety blanket. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Come out of there,” he says.
I peek a single eyeball out through the folds of the blanket.
“I’ve got hot dogs out here.”
“Stop trying to tempt me out of my blanket cave.”
“That’s my blanket,” he says. “Technically it’s my blanket cave.”
“Doesn’t sound right to me.”
He scoops me up inside the blanket and carries me upstairs to bed. He unwraps me carefully, like an anticipated gift.
I wait for him to ask me about my bandages, but he doesn’t. His eyes don’t stray from mine.
I want him to promise me that he’ll keep looking at me the way he does, the way he always has. I want him to promise me that his feelings won’t change no matter what.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says as he kisses along my clavicle, one hand loose around my neck and the other moving up my thigh. “You’re so beautiful.”
But I need him to love me ugly.
IX
Morning,” he whispers. “I have a lesson.”
I squint into vibrant sunlight. He stands over me, already dressed.
“You can stay in bed if you want,” he says. “I’ll be downstairs with a student.”
“Mm. I should probably go to the hospital to check on Scarlett.”
I roll out of bed, and he walks me out. We kiss in the doorway for too long.
“Don’t ghost me again,” he says.
“I’m not a ghost,” I tell him as I leave. I add to myself, “I’m much scarier.”
I swallow my guilt. I don’t know if it’s for shutting him out last week or for allowing myself to get close to him again, knowing what I am, how easily it could all fall apart, and how badly it will hurt if it does.
