The T.A. Pt. 03

"Orion's belt?"

"No, I'm pretty sure that one's just the guy called Orion. Look, the three stars are his waist. He's snatched." This makes both of us giggle uncontrollably and I squint up at the stars again. "There's one of the Dippers up there, too..but I couldn't tell you where."

"Just that they're there?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks. I was worried they'd disappeared. I'm glad you let me know."

I shrug my shoulders modestly. "What can I say? I didn't drop out of an astronomy class for nothing." They laugh, loud and sudden in the quiet field. I grin. "There's a lot of math involved. I was like..fuck this."

"No? Not a math girlie?" This makes me scoff a laugh.

"Not everyone can be good at everything. Even Aristotle had limits."

"Oh, Aristotle, huh?" We're grinning at each other. I attempt to straighten mine because my cheeks are starting to hurt.

"Mhm. You know that guy, right? The Greek guy."

"I'd actually love to hear your thoughts on him."

"My personal ones?" I shake my head seriously. "Nuh-uh. You couldn't get it. That's unlocked at level three."

"Oh, yeah? Level three of what?" They laugh, sitting up for a second to sip their water.

"My cult. You have to join my downline first, though."

We both can't take it anymore and they pick up the joint, fumbling with the lighter. I watch them struggle for a second before putting my hand out, gesturing for it. We both sit up, scooching to sit close enough where our knees knock together lightly. They cup their hands around the joint and I lean in to light it, feeling my cheeks get hot. The lighter chk's pitifully a few times as I get my bearings. I keep my eyes steadily on the lighter, huffing a "finally" when it clicks on. They lean in closer, and their lips look so soft. I light the joint carefully, making the mistake of glancing up at them while I tried to get it the perfect amount of lit.

The weight of it gives me a chill. It's hard to describe the feeling, but if I had to guess, my expression is the mirror opposite. Their gaze is openly hungry in a way that makes me desperate to know what they're thinking about as they look at me. I can only imagine what I look like. In all of my times hooking up with people, I've never had this feeling. It's a little shocking, it's exhilarating, it's terrifying. I don't know if I've ever gotten wet from a look before them. There's something inherently very trustworthy about them.

It's easy for me to feel unmoored in my life, floating around. I can't even think of how many five year plans I've abandoned. Sometimes I just feel like a cavity inside, open and gnawing, and over the years I've come to appreciate myself for all of my complexities.

Well, some of them.

Anyways--there's something familiar in the chaos of constantly upending my life. I don't mean to sound like a twat when I say that, but--

"Hey."

Their soft voice startles me and I blink at them, sitting back, sheepish. "What are you thinking about?"

I wasn't expecting this question, and it makes me pause. I weigh the options. I could say something simple, but there's a small voice inside of me that pushes me to be brave. "I..sorry. I zoned out. I was just thinking about how I feel like I'm just kind of..floating around in life. And it's like, a funny thing, the concept of 'life.' I've been thinking about that. My mom is from this Protestant British family, and I don't think she's ever really felt an emotion. At least in a long time. Anyway. Sometimes you just get tired of throwing rocks into an abyss and listening for how long they fall. You know?"

They squint, thinking seriously. "I think. But maybe not all the way."

I laugh, getting a little shy for a second. Brave. Brave. "Okay, so like...you just get tired of living like jumping from buoy to buoy. I want to stop and enjoy shit. But that means you have to make choices to like..to support that. Do you know what I mean? Like, I don't know. People just don't prioritize happiness. Like feeling-it-in-your-bones happiness. Like...close your eyes."

They close them. I close mine, too. "Okay. Just kind of...submit to gravity. Okay? Breathe really deep. Listen to the trees." I soften my voice, and open my eyes to peek at them. God, they're so handsome. They have their head slightly tilted back, throat exposed, and they're sitting cross-legged. They're wearing that fucking delicious charcoal shirt, and I swallow at the sight of their arms in the fabric. Their forearms are strong, I can tell, and I let my gaze travel downwards to their hands. I feel myself throb at the sight of their fingers, neatly manicured, strong, thick. I swallow again and quickly slam my eyes shut.

I realize I've been silent for a long time, but they've been, too, so it's okay. "How do you feel?" I have a small smile on my face and I open my eyes, slowly, to find their eyes blink open at the same time. They're also smiling.

"Good. I feel happy. And...I'm fucking baked."

I laugh, laying back down, this time a little closer. They do the same, a respectable distance away. I shift towards them a little, turning my head. Their face is remarkably, openly, earnestly kind; I look away, feeling shy. I'm having a hard time they're making that face at me, and not just thinking of someone else. We chat for a while, laughing and talking animatedly. I'm in the middle of explaining a story when I'm interrupted by a huge yawn that surprises me. "Oh. Sorry."

"Are you tired?" Their voice is soft and gentle.

"Shit. Yeah." Actually, I am--I had slept like shit the last few nights. "Man, let me see if my ride left."

"Do you want me to give you a lift home?"

The suggestion turns my face hot and I shake my head as an automatic response. "No, no. I couldn't put you out like that." I open my phone, clumsily, squinting at the suddenly bright screen before I fumble to turn the brightness down. I squint at it, clearly making a face because they ask me what's wrong.

"Ah.. she did leave. You can just wait with me for my Uber. You don't have to take me home." Normally, I would be hesitant to do so. I'm still baked, I'm horny, I'm vulnerable. They could easily physically overpower me. My red flag to stop lowers to yellow. They reassure me and I purse my lips, thinking. "...Okay. Sure. As long as you don't mind." I can always jump out of the car.

Their response is to help me stand up, collect our things (my purse included, like a good butch), and lead us towards their car. I have a slightly hard time walking in the dark, and I hadn't worn my glasses; of course I needed to stabilize myself by holding onto their arm. "Can you walk okay?"

I nod. They squint at me. "...Are you sure you don't need me to give you a piggy back ride or anything?"

"No, I got it. Those hurt my hips anyway. I don't know if I'd be able to hold onto you well enough." The thought of me hanging off of them like a baby monkey does make me laugh, though.

"Do you need me to carry you?"

Because God is a woman, she grants me the strength to not stop in my tracks. Carry me? Like in their arms? Like the arms that I've masturbated over? Not really, but the arms that I think about maybe every day of my life since school started?

"...Maybe. Do you mind? I'm not too heavy?" I knit my eyebrows together, feeling a little shy about it. They roll their eyes and scoop me up, adjusting so I can put my arms around their neck as best as I can. I already feel bad enough--I want to help support my weight.

Their body is surprisingly warm, just like their hand had been. I tuck my head to rest into their shoulder and neck, letting my eyes close as I listen to the steady sound of their breathing. I'm washed suddenly in peace and safety, the warmth flooding my body and making me shiver. They hug me a little closer and I want to cry from the intensity of their kindness. I can feel it in the way they hold me; strong, secure, firm, but I know if I moved at all to get down, they would let me. I don't worry about their hands being disrespectful, despite the intimate position, nor if I will get home safely.

I make a conscious decision to trust them. I let myself lean in. Just a little bit. I deserve to feel nice, too. I close my eyes and let myself relax into the sound of their heartbeat and breath, the smell of their soap, their deodorant. I can't help but thnk about how close their hand is to my tits, hand wrapped around my rib cage. God. I know my nipples have been hard since we laid down, just because it's been a little cold, but now I can't help but think of them roughly grabbing at my tits. If my estimations are correct, I think they would be just roughly a handful, maybe a little more if they grabbed a very ambitious handful. I sigh, letting myself drift, eyes closed.

I'm not sure how long it takes to get to their car, but they set me down just by the door, helping me get in as I blinked back to reality. They chuckle a little and close the door. Their car is just as shitty inside as it looks outside. I love it. There's a plastic skeleton hanging from their rear-view mirror with articulated limbs, as well as a green tree air freshener. It's surprisingly clean in there, perhaps just a little cluttered, and I am truly delighted.

I mean, delighted.

They spend a second plugging in their phone, and then they look over at me, grinning. "You good?"

"Oh, fuck yeah, dude. You good to drive?"

They nod, waving a hand. "Yeah. Do you want to pick the music?" I shake my head.

"No way. I'm a passenger."

"Okay. Where should I take you?"

Oh. Yeah. I sigh and squint for a second before rattling off my address. They nod decisively and I close my eyes, letting myself relax in my seat. The music they choose is some very beautiful woman crooning.

I think I fall asleep a little because I blink my eyes open when I feel the car slow down when it came near my apartment. I squint and rub my eyes, realizing too late that I'm wearing mascara. Well..was, probably. They pull into a spot I point them to and look over at me, giving me a big, goofy grin.

"How are you feeling?"

I give a double thumbs up and decisive nod. "Good. Great." In fact, I'm so tired, and I'm looking forward to taking my underwear off and masturbating lazily to sleep. They nod sympathetically.

"Do you have everything?" They ask as I'm pawing through my purse, and I have a moment of panic where I think I forgot my keys before I yank them out.

"Ha. Found them. Yes. Okay." I take a breath and sit there, pausing to remember how to get my legs to work again. "Jeez. Thank you for doing all of this for me, this is really..this is sweet. Thank you. I dunno what I would've done if it weren't for you." I look over at them, undoing my seatbelt, and swallow nervously. I'm not trying to make the air uncomfortable or tense, I just..can't look away for a second.

Thankfully, they smile and shake their head. "No, I'm happy! I had a lot of fun. I think I had more fun than I would've had if I hadn't run into you."

This makes me blush and roll my eyes bashfully. "Well, thanks. You know what they say."

"No, I don't," they laugh.

"Oh. Well, I'll tell you a little secret." I lean in close to their ear, maybe a little too intimately. "I'm the coolest, funniest, smartest, most beautiful dyke around."

This makes both of us bark a laugh and I back off, opening the door. "I actually have heard that, now that you mention it." We're both laughing and I duck out of their car, pulling my skirt down as I go. Is it my business if anything is seen? No. I lean in before I close the door, giving them quite a gracious view of my tits if they so choose.

"Thank you. It really means a lot to me. And...I had a lot of fun." I grin, and they do it back to me. "Here, um, will you let me know if you get home?" I look at them a little coyly, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "Here." I dig around in my purse for a scrap of paper and pen.

So I write my name and number down on an old receipt half (the other half had gum on it) and lipliner. I hand it to them. They take it, and I can't read their expression. But I think it's good.

"Thanks. I'll let you know, yeah?"

We exchange goodbyes and I flounce up the stairs, waving goodbye at them as they pull out after I lock the door.

I strangely don't feel an urge to masturbate once I shower and lay down. Instead I feel a weird sense of peace and drift off thinking of warm, strong arms around me.