In movies, it's all beautifully choreographed, set to an increasingly dramatic soundtrack.
In movies, when the boy pulls the girl to him when they are both finally undressed, they never bump their teeth together and get embarrassed and have to laugh and try again.
But here's the truth: In movies, it's never half so lovely as it is here and now with Jase.
Desde mi cornisa oculta, miraba hacia el jardín, tratando de localizar a Andy, adivinar el último escape de Harry, o ver el hermoso atuendo que Alice estaba usando. Los Garrett eran mi historia a la hora de dormir, mucho antes de siquiera pensar que yo sería parte de esa historia.
Huntley Fitzpatrick—¿Se va a casar Jase ya contigo?
Empiezo a toser de nuevo.
—Uh. No, no, George. Sólo tengo diecisiete. —Como si esa fuera la única razón por la que no estamos comprometidos.
—Yo tengo estos. —George levanta cuatro dedos ligeramente sucios—. Pero Jase
tiene diecisiete y medio. Ustedes podrían. Entonces podrías vivir aquí con él. Y tener una gran familia.
Jase entra a zancadas a la habitación, por supuesto, a mitad de esta propuesta
—George. Lárgate. Discovery Channel está encendido.
George se retira de la habitación, pero no antes de decir:
—Su cama es realmente cómoda. Y nunca se hace pipi en ella.
En las películas, la ropa simplemente desaparece cuando la pareja está lista para hacer el amor. Están completamente resplandecientes e iluminados con la banda sonora en alza. En la vida real, no es así. Jase tiene que quitarse la camisa y manosear torpemente la hebilla de su cinturón, y yo salto con un pie por la habitación quitándome los calcetines, preguntándome cuán poco sexy es eso. La gente en las películas ni siquiera tiene calcetines. Cuando Jase se quita sus jeans, el cambio que tiene en su bolsillo se sale, suena con estrépito y rueda por el piso.
—¡Lo siento! —dice, y los dos nos congelamos, a pesar de que no hay nadie en casa para oír el ruido.
En las películas, nadie es auto consciente en este punto, pensando que deberían haberse cepillado los dientes. En las películas, todo está hermosamente coreografiado, montado con una banda sonora cada vez más dramática.
En las películas, cuando el chico atrae a la chica hacia él, cuando ambos están finalmente desnudos, nunca chocan sus dientes entre sí, se avergüenzan, necesitan reír y volver a intentarlo.
Pero aquí está la verdad: En las películas, nunca es ni la mitad de lo maravilloso de lo que es aquí y ahora con Jase.
It is as if everything else in the world stops as we lie here in the summer night.
Huntley FitzpatrickI never felt with her the way I feel whenever I even catch sight of you.
Huntley FitzpatrickWe get to the front door and I lean back against it. "Thank you," I repeat.
"You'd have done the same for me." Jase puts his thumb under my chin and tips it up. "It's nothing."
"Well, except that I can't drive, and you never would have gotten yourself into that situation and---"
"Shhh." He pulls on my lower lip gently with his teeth, then fits his mouth to mine. First so careful, and then so deep and deliberate, that I can't think of anything at all but his smooth back under my hands. My fingers travel to the springy-soft texture of his hair, and I lose myself in the movement of his lips and his tongue. I'm so glad I'm still alive to feel all those things.
Jase glances up to smile at me. “Don’t worry, Sam. It’s just us.
Huntley FitzpatrickIt’s only been a few weeks and somehow I seem to have gotten far from shore.
Huntley FitzpatrickYou could have mentioned that this kid never sleeps,”
Tim calls from the living room. We go in to find him slumped in the easy chair next to the pulled-out sofa bed. Andy’s sprawled out on the bed, long tan legs in a V, George gathered in her arms. Duff, still in his clothes, lies across the bottom, Harry curled in a ball on the pillow under Andy’s outstretched leg. Safety, as much as could be found, must have lain in numbers.Patsy’s fingering Tim’s nose and pulling on his bottom lip, her eyes wide-blue open.
“Sorry, man,” Jase says. “She’s usually good to go at bedtime.”
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve read If You Give a Mouse a Cookie to this kid? That is one fucked-up story. How is that a book for babies?”
Jase laughs.
“I thought it was about babysitting.”
“Hell no, it’s addiction. That friggin’ mouse is never satisfied. You give him one thing, he wants something else, and then he asks for more and on and on and on. Fucked up. Patsy liked it, though. Fifty thousand times.”
Tim yawns, and Patsy snuggles more comfortably onto his chest, grabbing a handful of shirt.
“So what’s doin’?”
We tell him what we know—nothing—then put the baby in her crib. She glowers, angry and bewildered for a moment, then grabs her five pacifiers, closes her eyes with a look of fierce concentration, and falls very deeply asleep.
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