Page 36 of Teach Me To Sin
When I shift my weight, a pressure on either side holds me still. On one side, Alek has tipped over in his sleep with his cheek against my shoulder and his mouth hanging open. On the other, Benji has somehow curled up sideways in his seat and jammed his face into my neck, one of his arms loosely looped around mine. The passing flight attendant gives me a confused “that’s cute” smile. I want to call her back and insist that this is not what it looks like, but honestly I don’t even know what it looks like anymore. It feels like when Hamlet and Triss invade my personal space while I’m watching TV. I act like I hate it, but when they leave again, I just feel lonely and hollow.
As if to drive the point home, Benji whimpers in his sleep and squirms closer, lacing his fingers between mine. That’s it—he has to be doing this on purpose. But when I pull my hand away from the warmth of his, he doesn't respond except to cuddle deeper into himself. Sighing, I roll my head back against the seat and stare at the curved ceiling. I feel somehow tricked, even though I’m the one who insisted on coming.
There are three compelling reasons we shouldn’t be bonding like this. One reason is on my right, one is on my left, and one is sitting squarely in my seat. We’re all three defective and out of place–and contrary to the fairy tales, broken parts don’t come together into something better. They crumble apart and sit there, useless, because that’s the definition ofbroken. As long as the three of us aren’t in the same room, everything stays under control. When just two of us interact, there’s space left for us to remember why this can’t happen. Once we’re together, all the rules of society that teach us what a proper relationship looks like start to collapse and burn away until the only thing that matters is Alek, Benji, and me. I shouldn’t have come. But like always, deep down, I’m selfish. We all are.
Benji struggles to untangle his limbs, then sits up abruptly. His sleepy meadow-green eyes take me in, then peer across at Alek. “He’s cute, huh?”
I angle my head to see the man’s scrunched up face. “He doesn’t look stressed for once.”
“He’s perfect.” Chewing the inside of his cheek, he stares at the man for a long time with an expression I can’t read. “He hasn’t figured out that we’re both gonna let him down.”
I want to sayspeak for yourself, but I can’t. He’s right. “Are you nervous about the meet?” I ask instead.
His smile fades. “I’ve been lifting and running, but it hasn’t even been a month since I started. I’m still weak as fuck.”
“Maybe these will fuel you.” I pick up the bag of crackers from his lap and drop it in his palm. A tiny dimple dents his cheek as he smiles, but it fades quickly. He’s all up in his head again, those hazy eyes locked away. “It’s just your first meet,” I point out.
He props his forehead against my shoulder again, his voice miserable. “It’s way more than that.”
“What is it?” I ask carefully. It feels like he’s letting me close to something for the first time.
“Um…” His voice wavers as he flips the cracker bag over in his hands a few times, pretending to read the ingredients label. “I don’t–” For a moment his eyes stray to Alek, then he tightens his jaw and presses closer to me with a gesture that reminds me how young he is. “Forget it. Everything’s fine.”
I rest my forehead on his hair and feel him sigh at the contact. For the first time, this isn’t about answers and being right. I just want these two lost boys to be okay. “Talk to me, Benji. I know I’ve been harsh before, but I’ll try to listen.”
The tension in his body doesn’t relax. He pulls back, and whatever he sees in my face makes him smile wistfully. “If you think we’re all making it through this weekend without fucking, you’re not very bright.”
I let my eyes follow the beautiful curve of his neck, disappearing into his hoodie. “My ex-husband Gray was obsessed with self-discipline and self-denial. He said it was the key to a productive life.”
His smile widens. “Alek’s disciplined and productive. You and I are fucked.”
I force my eyes away from him and fidget with the bit of plastic that holds up the tray table. “Just watch. I’m very disciplined.”
“Truth or dare?”
That snags my attention. “What?”
“Since you’re lying to yourself, we’re playing truth or dare for the rest of the day.” Scrunching up his shoulders, he wriggles in his seat like he’s pleased with himself. “So–truth or dare?”
“You’re a slippery little fish, aren’t you?” A game might be my only chance to get past his walls. If nothing else, it’s more interesting than a topiary park. “Truth.”
He squints at me. “Hmmm. Have you ever farted and then blamed someone else?”
The ridiculousness of his question breaks the uneasy mood. “You forget one key detail about me: I own two massive dogs. As long as they’re around, I never have to take responsibility for a fart ever again.”
A silly grin spreads across his face, and he pulls the collar of his hoodie up to muffle his snorts like he’s a little kid.
“It’s my turn now.” I nudge him. “I’ll take a wild guess and say that you won't give me the option of a truth, will you?”
He doesn’t answer, just draws his index finger along the back of my hand where it rests on the seat arm between us.
“Then I dare you to eat all the Cheez crackers and hammer them back with my warm tomato juice.”
“Oh god.” His nose scrunches up as he gingerly tears the bag open and sniffs it. “Really?”
Watching him sip tomato juice like it’s battery acid and spill orange crumbs over what I’m pretty sure is a four-figure Tom Ford hoodie puts me in a decent mood for landing. When the wheels hit the tarmac, Alek jumps, grabbing blindly at my arm. When he realizes what he’s doing and where his face has been for the last hour, he recoils. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles groggily.
Benji lurches halfway across my lap, almost burying his elbow in my junk, and squeezes Alek’s leg. “We’re playing truth or dare the rest of the day. Wanna join?”