Kissing in Dreams

I see the concern in her eyes as she crouches next to me, feel her hand on my cheek, but I can't make out what she's saying. A great roaring noise in my ears is drowning out her voice. The relentless pressure on my chest squeezes and squeezes until I lean over to throw up my lunch onto the base of the tree.

When she pulls me to my feet, I mumble, "I'm sorry." She hands me my schoolbooks and we resume our walk home. I must've sat beneath that maple for longer than I knew. The sun is already westering.

Her voice is gentle, "D'ya understand now what I've been going through? It's been tearing me apart. I don't see any way around it, though. I've tried to look at it from every which way and it always come back to the way we feel about each other. That's never going to change, is it?"

"No."

"Exactly. The only way we're gonna stay out of trouble is if we're apart. Far apart."

"What're you gonna tell Ma?"

"I haven't figured that out yet. I must've composed the note a thousand times, trying to find a way to phrase it so it'll do the least harm. I was hoping maybe you'd help me with that."

I ignore that and ask, "How're you going to live?"

"Well, that's why I'm asking for what you've saved. I figure that and my own savings'll be enough to get me started. I'm smart and not afraid of hard work. There's plenty of things I can do to survive. I'm not so worried about that. I'm most afraid," she comes to a stop and turns to face me again, "of how much I'm going to miss you. It'll feel like I've left half of me behind."

I drop my books onto the pavement and wrap my arms around her. "Don't go then. Stay here with me, where you belong."

It feels so good, so right, to be in her embrace. This is how it always should be. But her voice in my ear gainsays that thought, "Sweetie, have you stopped having those dreams?"

"No."

"Me neither. If anything, they're stronger than ever. Do you still feel that way about me? Are you still aching to um, do stuff with me?"

"Yeah."

"The only way we're ever gonna resist this temptation is if we're apart. If we give in to it, it'll mean misery for more folks than just us."

I know what that implies. God, I shudder to think what would happen if we were ever discovered.

"Grant, you know I'm right, don't you? I'm just trying to do what's best for everyone. Won't you help me to do that? Please?"

Fuck. With that please, I am utterly undone. I start bawling on her shoulder without the least sign of restraint.

I can't say how long we stand like that in the middle of the sidewalk: me convulsively sobbing while she rubs my back with one hand, cradles my head with the other and murmurs soothingly in my ear.

When I can at last summon something approaching articulation, I ask, "When are you going?" In the silent beats that follow, I notice how thoroughly I've soaked the shoulder of her blouse.

"Just after graduation."

Two and a half weeks. It feels like I've been given a death sentence and the time left to me is impossibly brief.

Each of the next fourteen days is filled with mounting dread. I lie awake every one of those nights scheming furiously to stop her. It occurs to me, of course, that I could simply tell Mom her plan. But how to explain why she wants to leave? In fact, how is she going to explain? She spoke of composing a note, but I can't imagine what she could possibly say in it.

It doesn't matter.

If I ratted on her, she'd still find a way out of here sooner or later. She's too stubborn to give up on anything she's set her mind to. And she'd never trust me again. But there has to be some way to stop her. There must be.

Three days to go. It's after one in the morning and I don't think I've closed my eyes once tonight. Dread has long since been supplanted by panic. As I shift and writhe in my bed at thought of her impending departure, an answer comes to me. A bolt of clarity as if God had spoken in my ear.

My first instinct, as usual, is to race and tell her about it. But I decide to think it over carefully first. Examine the idea from all sides. Try to realistically imagine the possible outcomes. I mean, there's no doubt my solution will have a terrible cost. But what could be worse than her absence?

Once this notion gets in amongst me, the need to share it with her becomes urgent. There's no way I can hold this in till morning.

I tiptoe out of my room and down the hall, silently cursing every creaking floorboard. Those same telltale sounds have terrified us a hundred times before when she and I have been up to mischief in the middle of the night. Of course, her door opens with a squeal that in my imagination sounds an alarm to the entire neighborhood: "Grant is sneaking about!" Standing stock-still, I wait to see if anyone reacts to my seeming uproar. The door closes with no less a racket, but no one stirs.

As I cross the room to her bed, I notice that my noise doesn't seem to have disturbed her slumber. She's on her side, back facing me. The steady, even susurrus of her breathing suggests she's in a deep sleep. With all she's had going on in her head and heart, she's surely exhausted. I hate to disturb her, but God, I need to talk.

When I slide onto the mattress behind her, she wakens groggily at first, then bolts upright in alarm, hissing, "What the hell are you doing? Suppose somebody sees us?"

"I don't care."

"You say that now, but how in the world are you gonna explain?"

"Ssshhh. Lie down again and give me a chance to talk for a bit, okay?"

She settles onto the mattress and I snuggle closely, draping my arm over her. My cock stiffens at the intimate contact, pressing against her bottom. "Sorry. Not tryin' to start anything. I can't really help it."

"S'okay. I don't mind. It's kinda nice." My palm is resting on her tummy. She places her hand reassuringly on mine. Over her shoulder she asks, "What did you want to talk about?"

"I'm going to go with you."

She squeezes my hand but remains silent, so I continue, "Remember what started all of this? Those damn dreams I was having. The reason I didn't want to tell you about them is because I was terrified you'd be disgusted. I was afraid I would going to lose my best friend. And now look at us. You might not've been repulsed but it looks like you're going to leave me anyway."

"Oh, sweetie."

But, Emma?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not only my only true friend, you're the love of my life."

I let those words float in the silence for a moment before I continue, "You understand me in ways nobody else does. Not even Mom. You never have to tolerate all the things about me that everyone else thinks are weird. You rejoice in them."

Once I begin talking, the words simply stream out of me, "I watch how daring you are, and it gives me courage. I see how smart and creative you are and it makes me strive to be better than I am. Even when things are awful, you ease the pain simply by loving me so much." I clear my throat before going on, "And, um..."

"What?"

"I know I'm not supposed to say this. Hell, I'm probably not even supposed to think this. But, God-in-heaven you are sexy. You take my breath away." I can almost hear her blushing in the darkness. "When you were trying to shock me to my senses, you asked me if I was planning on marrying you. I will if you'll have me."

"Honey, have you thought this through? Do you realise what it'll mean? If we do this, we'll have to say goodbye to everything we know."

"I know, but it's preferable to saying goodbye to you. What about you? You haven't said you want me to come with you."

"You have to ask? God, yes. Of course. I've been miserable imagining what my life'll be like without you. Having you say you'll go with me feels like a mountain's been lifted off my chest." Rotating her body to face me, she shelters my face in her hands and kisses me deeply. "You should get back to your room before someone wakes and sees you creeping out of here."

As I start to rise, she clasps my face once more, giving me an incendiary, tongue-tangling kiss. After which I pad stealthily across her room and peek into the hallway to see if anyone has stirred yet.

Just when I'm about to slip out her door, she calls my name in a hushed tone. I turn to see the old impish grin returned to her beautiful features.

"You asked if I'll have you? When the fella with the funny collar asks me that question, my answer will be 'I do'."