The Smell Of Spray Paint

Twenty Three.

Time passed. Judas hadn't shown but we were always on edge. Gilbert went to work and I stayed up in the room he had kept hidden with all the blankets to keep warm. We slept down on the ground floor, but now we shared the mattress and used my sleeping bag as an extra blanket. We were almost there, things were nearly normal.

But there were two big things that stopped me from calling our situation comfortable.

First off, though none of us had seen him, we were certain that Judas was still after us. We took turns sleeping, one sat up in bed while the other rested, switching at around midnight. The tension ate us both.

Secondly, Gilbert was still in love with me. And I couldn't think of one day that he hadn't told me and made me feel like the only good thing to say next was 'I love you too'. But I never replied with that. Truthfully, I hadn't even thought about my feelings for Gilbert. I didn't dare. Why? Because I was too scared.

Judas could find us any day. I refused to put my heart in danger of breaking, and even though Gilbert insisted he had this plan, I was refusing to fall in love with him. Not when so much was already at stake.

But we still kissed, and we still lay side by side at night. Our make out sessions could last for almost an hour, even though afterwards I tried to convince myself that I would stop it after we finished, and reminded myself that I had to stop leading him on. Every time those warm lips found mine on a frosty night I would accept them and lean in.

I was a mess.

"Mattie." Gilbert called me. We were both on the very bottom floor, on the mattress watching the sky though the hole in Gilberts roof. It made no sense to do that because we couldn't see a single star but it still felt nice. It felt comforting.

I didn't look at him, but lately we knew the other was listening even when we weren't looking them in the face. "Yeah?"

He stretched his arms above his head. "Do you..." He gave a little sigh. I think what he was about to talk to me about was something that he had been putting off for a while now. "Do you remember that thing we did that night?"

Not helpful, Gil'. "Um... What thing?" I ushered him to go a little deeper into detail.

"You know it!" He urged me like I was supposed to share his thoughts. "That thing when we..." He looked for a good way to put it, "When I was horny and you were horny and we..." He trailed off, hoping he didn't have to expand nay further.

And he didn't. I burned red. I knew exactly the night he was talking about. It was the one that he almost took me but instead we rubbed ourselves together. "Yeah..." My voice was small, "I remember..." This was awkward.

I heard a sound of relief, "That. Yes. Well," He went on, "Was that your first time doing a thing like that?" He put his hand over mine.

My face was hot and I suddenly couldn't feel comfortable. But I still answered the question. For us to talk about this is what I had wanted. "Yeah..." I had only kissed a few people, let alone done that. "What about you?" I asked, though I knew the answer already.

"It was not," He said, just like I expected. "But it was the best time." He offered as if he was trying to make me feel less of a virgin.

I picked at my sweater. "When did you stop being a virgin?" I sounded meek and I didn't really know why I was asking, I already I didn't wanna know the answer.

Gilbert made a little humming noise as he thought back. "I was fifth-teen." He said and I winced, his tone was flippant. Did he care about the meaning of what we did at all? I was starting to question that.

"Oh..." I had nothing to say to that, but I still stupidly asked, "I bet you get a lot of attention from girls and stuff." I laughed, trying to sound less... Wait. Was this jealousy?