I felt bad for a second, butquickly shook that from my system. I didn't really have any intention in readingit, but it occurred to me that it was a bargaining chip for something evenmore wicked. "Why read about sex when you can have it." (Or so I've been told.) She gave me the finger. I opened the diary, that wasn't locked in Leannehaste. "I'm gunna fucking kill you," she picked something off her desk and it whizzedpast. "Hey Pedro, easy there." She was scanning the desk for more ammo. "Here you go, sissy," I said tossing her the diary. "I know how much it meansto teenage girls...I watched the Brady Bunch." She sighed, but seemed more confused than relieved, as she clutched it toher chest. "What was that all about?" I stepped off the bed and stumbled at her. I grabbed her shoulders and whisperedinto her ears. "It's just because you're so friggin hot." "Oh, please," She rebuffed. I huffed (nothing was working) and I stepped back and sat on the bed beforegrabbing my sneakers. "Man you. I haven’t the right. I want to step back, to leave this man, this poet, for someone else to find, but I cannot. He is there, his heart beating steady against my hand, and I am not possessed of the power to let him go. I feel the tears, building at the back of my eyes, threatening to spill over. I turn away, frantically. He can’t see me this way, know the depth of my pain, my need. But he touches me and I am lashed by that touch, rendered powerless. So I stay. Pulling me, back to belly, he slips his arms around my waist, pulling me down to lie at his side. I have never felt so encompassed, so completely touched. His arms were only touching my waist, our bodies only touching slightly, but to hear my body, heart, and soul tell it, I was a part of this man. Every inch of what we were, joined. Encompassed, touched… loved. Even as I shook my head to deny the truth, he pressed his lips to my temple, feeling the beat of my heart. Damning me for a liar. And I let go. All the fears, all the.
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