Who She Is

~34~

Alyx's POV

"That's so fucked up! I feel so bad for him," Amaya says, referring to the main character of the show.

"Yeah, I always hate that part."

She leans her head on my shoulder. I look down at her and take a slow, steady breath. What are we? I know she's interested in me, or she probably wouldn't even be here right now. Does she like me the same way I like her? I mean, she was just telling me how she wasn't going to stay away from me. Or is she just wanting me to be like a hook up for her? As much as I want to have sex, I don't want to be just a booty call to her. I want her to be mine. I want her to want me. I don't even know that much about her. And she doesn't know that much about me, either.

"I want to know more about you," I say, confidently.

She lifts her head from my shoulder and pauses the TV. She looks in my eyes and leans a little closer. "You already know more than anyone else."

"I want to know more." I give her a sheepish smile.

She gives me a small one in return. "I want to know more, too. I don't really know anything about you."

"Ask me something." I'll tell her anything she wants to know. Anything.

She tilts her head slightly to the side. "Did you grow up here?"

"Yeah. I've been here my whole life."

She laughs. "I'm so sorry."

I crack another smile. "It's not so bad. It's usually pretty quiet. Nothing ever happens here."

She deeply inhales before sighing. "You have no idea." She loses her smile after that and plays with her thumb nail. "You can ask me something now. We'll just take turns after each question. Like before. Don't call it 'Twenty Questions'; it sounds cheesy as hell."

"Okay." Ask something subtle first. Don't screw it up by asking the wrong thing. Just a simple question. "What's your favorite color?"

"No cheesy questions, either." She playfully rolls her eyes. "But, it's blue."

"Sorry. I don't know what to ask," I admit. "I don't want to ask the wrong thing."

She clicks her tongue against her teeth. "You don't think I'm worried about that?" She sighs. "Ask me whatever you want, and I'll try to honestly answer it."

"Do you have any siblings?" Maybe this won't be too bad.

She glances down at the bed and then up at the ceiling. It looks like she's having to think about it. Why is she so hesitant? "No."

"You look unsure."

She purses her lips. "Not that I know of anyway."

"What does that mean?"

She sighs again. "I think I'm an only child, but I don't know if I am an only child. Sorry if that doesn't make sense." Does she think she might have a sibling she doesn't know about? "Can you swim?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Okay." I wonder if she wants to go swimming with me. She'll get to see me shirtless, actually shirtless, and I won't have bruises. I feel like she won't like my body. I've seen Jason running laps shirtless after school, and the dude's ripped, as much as I hate to admit it.

I feel so inadequate to him. I don't really have that much biceps. They barely show unless I flex them. My stomach's kind of flat; my abs barely exist. I don't work out no where near as much as Jason. Sometimes if I'm bored, I'll do some random push-ups or sit-ups. I don't have like a regular routine, though. Speaking of feeling inadequate, I'm sure he's gifted in another area, too. I don't exactly think I'm small down there, but I'm sure I won't compare.