Chapter 18

I took Suzi to the shower some time later. It probably wasn’t the ten minutes we had joked about but it could have been. Keeping time in the box was practically impossible. We didn’t even know if we were working on twenty four hour days or not. It was always the amount of time I spent asleep each night back home. That was never exactly 11:30 pm to 8:00 am. It generally did feel like a full day from waking until bed.

We had wiped each other down with the towels before we climbed out from under the bedclothes. I was cocky, from Suzi’s shy smile, to Renée’s goofy fat grin and terrible blush, to Marin’s half-hook grin, to Connie’s self important smirk. I had reasons and reinforcements. I probably should have wrapped the towel around myself like Suzi had.

I walked, towel gripped in my left hand, still a little nervous for all the eyes on me. Hannah kept her eyes averted. Connie glared. Suzi zipped by me, wrapped in a towel. Xiomara was waiting by the showers, with folded stacks of clothes for the both of us.

“Can you get me one of the pink shirts?” Suzi asked quietly.

“I think blue’s more your color,” Xiomara smiled, “But I’ll grab one for you.”

“Pink’s fine for me,” I said as smugly as possible. I realized I couldn’t have done any less. Xiomara told me to get in the shower already.

I did, before Suzi. I could see, with a smile, that Connie and Renée had immediately stripped the bed. I was embarrassed, pleased. It felt bad that they were cleaning up after me. I couldn’t fight the smile. Cautiously, Suzi entered. The water started. I flinched. The pressure and the heat are fantastic.

I started by mostly watching Suzi. I had shampoo in my hands but I had yet to rub it into my hair. She was so small, especially with the water and her shoulders hunched together. She faced away from me, but kept in arm’s reach. She awkwardly rubbed her loufa over her shoulders; I watched the strange trails of suds that ran down her back. I stepped forward and put my loufa to her back.

“Dean!” She hissed.

“Let me help,” I beamed, “I want to hold you a bit longer.”

“I can wash myself, thank you,” She smiled over her shoulder and retreated away from me.

“Is something wrong?” I took ahold of her shoulders and she stood rigid.

“It’s not important.” Each word came out like it’s own sentence. She was clipping her jaw with every syllable. She stepped, almost a full step away. I let go. Still near, still in reach.

“I wasn’t your first choice,” She said a few moments later. I begrudgingly swept the bodywash over my chest and into my armpits. She spent an inordinate amount of time cleaning her legs. Her black hair was glued to her skull and neck, shining in the antiseptic light of our prison.

“Xiomara was, is,” I admitted, “I wanted to be with a friend I had known forever, I guess.”

“We’ve known each other since we were five,” Suzi retorted.

“We didn’t speak to each other before we were eleven,” I replied, “And we never were friends.” “OK, yeah, Xiomara,” Suzi took a deep breath and turned to face me. She was standing tall. Since Pat had left us, Suzi now was the shortest member of our box. Water from the many showerheads steamed or ran rivulets down her skin. She was fair, not like Renée or Marin or Hannah or, she was fair next to Andrea, next to Connie, next to Xiomara next to me. Suzi’s breasts were energetic, pointing forward on small hills. She was pretty but she didn’t stand out. Here she was, vulnerable and naked before me. I managed to look her in the eye. “But you would’ve wanted Kia or Pat or someone else to be with.”

“It was my first time, Suzi,” I mumbled unsure what to say, “How would I know what I wanted? I did know, do know, that what we had was special.”

“Special?” She blushed and turned her face away. Her arms crossed over her body. She let her lower lip go from her teeth as she looked back to me. “I didn’t want to be your last pick.”

“Last? But--” And I felt like shit for a half a heartbeat. I wanted her to feel better, to feel as great as I did for being with her. For having sex for the the first time.

“I could see it,” She frowned, “I didn’t know how to deal with it and I don’t think I was ready for what we did.”

“Are you hurt? Can I help?”

“You can listen,” She begged with her eyes that seemed so much bigger with her hair weighed down.

“Tell me.”

“I’ve watched you for days now.”

“We don’t have much else to watch,” I would’ve apologized for interrupting but she just wanted me to shut up.

“You don’t like it when the girls,” she excluded herself, “make decisions for you. I did that very thing by taking Xiomara’s place.”

She waited. Did I say something? I was about to. I wanted to assure her she hadn’t taken Xiomara’s place. Xiomara still had her place. The only person who had seemed to have lost her place for me was Kia. That revelation hurt.

“I could see it. Maybe everyone could,” She told me, “Xiomara, Kia, Pat, Connie, Renée, Andrea, Hannah, Marin, and me. Until maybe Marin said something weird, she’s really weird, and then you’d recount and the only person that would stay put in your line was me.”

I waited. She wiped water from her face, I decided it was all shower water. Her eyes had just got a bit red from the shampoo. “I like you. Really really like you. I always have. You never talk to me, or my friends, or anyone. You just hang out with your idiots and harass your sister. I just wanted a boy I was comfortable saying hi to. I wanted it to be you, but I now I know you just don’t like me.”

“What?” I couldn’t follow. Didn’t parse the center of that. Did she like me? Did she want to be my girlfriend? I don’t think so. She somehow divorced liking me from being attracted to me. I wanted to inflate my ego. I had just made love to this girl. I had sex with her at least. I felt love now. Not really for her, just for the universe and all the happiness anyone could ever find.

“Why? What did I do?” She chewed her lip.

“I always thought you were snobbish and stuck up.” I didn’t want to be that honest. I really just wanted to tell her she was wrong. I should’ve stopped talking. “You always have to answer a question in such a way that even the fucking dumbest rubberhead anchors in our classes don’t feel left out. You ask questions not for your own curiosity but to show the rest of us what you figured out. You just want the teacher to say it.”

“I wanted to be nice,” Her lip vibrated and she clenched her fists. Near hurt became frustration anger. She stepped forward. I grabbed her hips because the wet shower floor was slippery and I wanted to touch her again. She looked up, right into my eyes.

“What are you curious about?” I demanded, “What answers do you need? Where are you having trouble? Where aren’t you perfect?”

“In your eyes, obviously,” She answered the fourth question.

“Just ... Be a bit more selfish,” I sighed. I leaned forward but she wouldn’t let me kiss her so I rubbed her head with mine. “Did you get into bed with me for you?”

“I don’t think ... I did it for us,” She touched my chest, but she looked to the room.

“Until you want it for you,” I grumbled, “You’re on the bottom of the list again.”

“And if I never do?”

“I want to be in bed with you, for me.” I told her. “I want to feel like this everyday. I cannot forget that you were my first girl. I won’t, and I hope I never forget or lose the opportunity to feel as goofy and as excited as I do right now.”

“OK,” She said, “Wash my back now?”

“Of course,” I said.

I don’t think we were good when we left the shower. The towels were waiting for us. The bed was remade. The girls were all sitting around the table. There were games out but they remained in their boxes. Marin had a book. Hannah just lay forward with her face on the tabletop. I wasn’t so gung-ho now. I dried up and I went for my clothes.

“Really? Xiomara?” I asked. I had my blue towel wrapped around my hips. Suzi was much quicker than me but she had less surface area to dry. She wiggled her hips into a pair of black jeans. Her t-shirt showed a line of her belly whenever she stood up straight.

“You said you were OK with it,” Xiomara grumped at me. I looked down. The pink jeans, the pink t-shirt, the pink zip up sweater, the pink socks, they didn’t cause problems like the pink y-front underwear did. I grumbled. Connie watched me. There was a challenge. Or a threat. I looked to Suzi.

“You’d look good in pink,” She told me with more than a little mockery. Her t-shirt was tight on her and I could see the outline of the bra beneath her shirt. I had just had sex with her. I had just showered with her. I wanted her again; I fiercely imagined her naked.

“Alright,” I told myself and slid into the underwear as Suzi walked to the table. I had expected cheers. The girls were deathly quiet. Hannah wasn’t even looking. Andrea watched with the flattest, least excited stare I had ever received. Xiomara had her back to me and she was sitting very tall, very properly, very forward. She wasn’t looking. Renée and Connie at the opposite side of the table appeared curious. I guess I wasn’t done until I was done.

Pink socks. Pink Jeans. Pink T-shirt. Pink sweater. I walked over to the table looking like a ridiculous cartoon and sat down on Xiomara’s left. She looked over to me and nodded.