As they grew, Caroline and Oliver spent every second together, no matter how anyone tried to keep them apart.
“You have a strange imagination.”
They spent hours, days, weeks, months in bed. Oliver had wondered if they tallied up all the time they spent lying in bed it would equal years of his life. One summer, he was sure they got bedsores.
“I do?” he asked.
“Yes. Whenever I speak to you in made up languages, you know how to speak back. And I get the feeling you are using the past tense and future perfect.”
He had no idea what she meant.
“Are you ready to have sex yet?”
They were fourteen.
“Are you ready to be that intimate?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re always asking me what I mean.”
“You’re never telling me.”
Her face changed a lot and sometimes the way she looked at him made him think they were strangers.
“I guess...sometimes I worry about being so close to you.”
“Why?”
“Do you think that being close to people slows you down?”
“No. I think being close to you is nice.”
“I know, it is nice. Do you ever think it’s dangerous?”
“I still don’t understand what you mean.”
“You’re right. Being close to people is the point.”
He held her because he was scared she might not want him to. Then he kissed her until his lips were too sore to talk. A hard-on will make you do strange things.
The next day, she let him make love to her, only, she wasn’t really there.
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