I didn’t know how long it lasted or if I set some kind of virgin record. The only thing that mattered was Ozrik’s mouth on mine, his body over top of me, and the way we moved.
Together.
I groped for purchase, clung to his arms, back, and hair. I whimpered, moaned, and gasped, chasing that sweet, sweet sensation that would soon destroy me.
At one point, Ozrik spoke against my mouth, into our kiss, “Touch me, Gale. Take me there.”
So I stroked him, and I took him there.
And we came.
Soon after, we collapsed, sweaty bodies pressed together.
The high was high, but the crash decimated us.
We snoozed, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Later that afternoon, we did it all over again.
Afternoon turned to evening. We wandered to the kitchen and found something to eat. Ozrik’s mom was nowhere to be found, and I registered concern on his face when he called her name and she didn’t respond. He checked his phone, typed a long message, but said nothing. I didn’t ask.
We returned to his bedroom and watched endless YouTube videos of Ozrik’s tornado chases over the years. With an iPad propped on our drawn-up legs, Ozrik broke down the details of each and every chase. The turtle probe interested me most, and he talked enthusiastically about their only successful run usingit. I asked a ton of questions, and Ozrik answered them with pride.
Once we’d exhausted episodes, we found a movie on one of his streaming services and settled in to watch it.
At one point, we heard his mother moving about in another part of the house, and I registered Ozrik’s relief. He excused himself for a minute, and I figured he was checking in with her.
The movie ended after eleven, and as I was about to suggest I head home since it was so late, Ozrik wrapped an arm around me, securing me in place as he nuzzled his face against my neck. “Don’t go. Spend the night.”
“Really?”
“Really. I want you in my bed.”
So I spent the night. To think that a handful of years ago, I was ready to give up this part of my life for good.
Briefly, I wondered what my dad would say when I ventured home in the morning, but at that moment, I was too wrapped up in Ozrik and our new relationship to care. It was a tomorrow problem.
33
Ozrik
Iwoke before Gale the following morning and left him warm and sleeping in bed. We hadn’t crashed until long after three in the morning, far too interested in seeing how many times we could get each other off before exhaustion took us out.
Gale’s shyness had vanished, and I loved watching his confidence grow with every new experience we shared. Every day his walls came down more. He talked enthusiastically about the things he enjoyed and listened to my passion for chasing, no matter how repetitive it sounded when spoken aloud.
Gale was deeply religious but struggled to talk about his faith. He shared about his complicated relationship with God and his decision to leave his calling behind. My lack of faith didn’t seem to bother him. It had always been a bone of contention between my mother and me, so I was grateful.
Above all, Gale’s uninhibited laughter was the thing I treasured most. I couldn’t get enough. Watching his eyes light up and his cheeks color, did something to me.
I hit the bathroom, cleaned up, and performed a ritual of tasks to satisfy my mother’s neurosis. She was an early riser, and I wanted to check in before my day got too busy. If I was to be subjected to her usual string of morning inquiries, I preferred that Gale wasn’t a witness.
Something was up. Stella had taken off for hours the previous day, and that wasn’t like her.
We were heading to Kansas today, and I didn’t anticipate she would be happy when she heard I was leaving so soon after being sick.
I found her at the kitchen table, sipping coffee. A familiar spiral-bound notebook, where she kept notes on my health, sat unopened in front of her. As much as I hated the book, it injected a sense of normality that had been missing the previous day.
“Good morning.” I sauntered to the fridge and debated a glass of orange juice.