Chapter Four / Two Girls

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Chapter Four / Two Girls

"You know we have to cherish every time we see Grandma Jean; each visit could be the last."

My mother is choking up with tears as she drives. I sit in the backseat behind James, who is in the passenger seat, watching the autumn leaves blur into a single fiery color as we go by. She's playing country music on the radio and I hate country music, as does James, but we're both trying to be nice to her because she always gets emotional before visiting Grandma Jean.

I haven't been saying much, letting her and James do all the talking. If I'm being honest, I've been stuck in a daydream and I'm letting that play out instead of coming back to planet earth for a car-ride conversation. I made up this whole scene in my head about me and Sartaaj, taking a walk together through the field at the end of my cul-de-sac. The grass is high and there are late autumn flowers blooming, white and yellow flecks across the expanse of flaxen weeds. In my head my hair is a little bit longer, I'm wearing this dress I wanted to buy at a boutique I went to with Gemma, I have blush on my cheeks, and the tiniest bit of pink lipgloss on. Sartaaj is holding my hand, very gently, and he lets it go to pick me a single flower. Then he hands it to me, a gift, and we kiss.

I've been thinking about kissing Sartaaj a lot. I don't have a lot of experience with actual kissing, most of the time men just devour my face or stab their tongues into my mouth. In my imagination, Sartaaj pushes my hair behind my ear before kissing me all soft and slow, like they do in the movies. I want him to be the romantic love interest that sweeps me off my feet and for me to be the princess in jeopardy.

The other night, I spent a lot of time thinking about his lips pressed to mine and how his voice would sound calling me pretty. The thought of kissing him turned me on a little bit, and I touched myself thinking about it but nothing really happened because I have limited sensation down there. I don't know if it's normal to only want to kiss a boy and not anything else. Kissing seems really romantic and nice, especially with someone like Sartaaj, unlike anal which I don't know if I actually enjoy much even though men like it.

Damn, now I can't stop thinking about kissing.

"Earth to Alphie!" James reaches behind his seat, wiggling his fingers at me. "We've got to visit Grandma, dude!"

I blush violently. "Sorry."

My mother glances into the rearview mirror, her gray eyes meeting mine. My eyes are almost the same color as hers. My features take after her more than my father; I've inherited her light hair, sparser eyebrows, slender jaw, and overall lanky but soft build. Unfortunately, I've taken her feminine features, while James is all man like my father. He and our father both have stocky frames, strong facial features, and build muscle easily.

"Alphie, honey, you're red again. Are you anxious? Did you take your anxiety medicine this morning?"

"Mom!" James interrupts her on my behalf. "He's fine, you're making him blush more. God, he's eighteen, stop worrying so much."

I hide my face with my hair, a blonde curtain obscuring my view, and turn to stare back out the window while they continue. Their disagreement isn't unusual; James doesn't get along well with our mother as much as he does my father. He thinks she's suffocating, which is accurate, but he doesn't need to be as short with her as he is. Even though she has a tendency to be in my business, I know she means well and she's worried about me.

Also, I am always anxious.

"Of course I worry!" She exclaims while she parks the SUV at the nursing home. "You both need to give me a break, it's hard enough having to chase two boys around. Alphie has anxiety and I'm simply checking in on him."

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