|
|
|
 |
Dad was so great—after Claire explained to him about her thing, complete with a demonstration, he didn’t even flinch, just gave her a big hug and asked what Peter did, then offered him the guest bedroom furthest from Claire’s room, since it was his fault that Peter had been in jail—his words, not theirs. So now Peter’s here, and they’re trying to figure this thing out, and Claire feels kind of bad because they have a lot more figured out than they’re letting on: they have a plan for her to become an emancipated minor and join Peter with Isaac and Nathan in New York, and Peter’s been on the phone with some Japanese guy who knows some other Japanese guy who stops time and teleports. They just have to work on convincing Mr. Bennet, because Mama may have let her sneak out of the house but she’ll never sign those papers.
After dinner, Peter comes into Claire’s room, regarding the pink and frills with awe. “I never had a sister or anything,” he says, “just Nathan.”
Claire just shrugs and flops down on the bed. “I think it’s getting kinda old. I’d like to redecorate it, something more grown-up.” Peter sits next to her, contained, almost prim. “Anyway. I was thinking we’ll give Daddy a few more days to recover from all this crap, I’ll pay my respects to Jackie,” an eye-roll “and then we can blow this hot dog stand. Hopefully.”
“What if your father won’t say yes?” Claire likes that Peter looks at her when he asks. He’s not afraid.
“He will. He likes you.” She smiles, joking. He smiles too, but ruefully, and looks away.
“Claire, seriously.”
“Seriously? I’m not running away. If he doesn’t go for this, then I’ll have to stick around for the rest of high school. No sense quitting less than a year before I graduate. And I really don’t wanna make him angry. In case I decide I ever want to go to college, or come back home, I want him to be there.” She pauses, cocks her head and regards him thoughtfully. “Does that make you angry?”
“No,” he says, slowly. “Family’s important. And this—” he motions between them “—easily could fail. The four of us, I mean. That’s… mature of you.”
“But what about this?” Her voice goes breathy, sultry, like on TV. “Us?”
And she leans in and kisses him.
After the first instant or so, he pulls back. “Jesus, Claire, we…” She opens her mouth and he cuts her off with a motion of his hand. “Look. This, you and I, I don’t know. I want to, but… You’re so young. And your dad. Is he really gonna let his seventeen-year-old daughter run away with your twenty-something boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” She laughs. “You wanna be my boyfriend!”
“Claire, that’s not what I—that’s not the point!”
“You wanna be my boyfriend,” she murmurs in a singsong, and leans in and kisses him again. He sprawls back against her bed and she straddles him, one hand on his face.
And Claire may be co-captain of the cheerleading squad, but she’s also a straight-A student and both take a lot of time. She’s never taken her shirt off for a boy before. But when Peter’s hand finds its way up under her shirt and along the skin of her back, she hardcore moans, and then hopes she doesn’t sound too slutty but damn. His hand is all warm And it makes it so, so easy to let him ruck up her shirt and then pull it off completely. So now here she is, in her bra and jeans on a bed with a man, because Peter is so far from a boy. And he sucks in this breath and just looks at her with a sort of awe. It makes it really easy not to be nervous. Actually, it feels pretty damn good.
|
|
|
 |
|
| feedback? |
Feedback is welcome and can be directed to hebrew.hernia [at] gmail [dot] com.
|
 |
|
|
