Alterity

Chapter Twenty-Six

I wake up in a sort of daze. The room is dark aside from the faint glow coming through the window from the street lights outside; the sound of the rain having become thunderous. What was only a slight drizzle has become a downpour. I check my phone: It's nearly nine with only a couple missed messages from Mom. Were this not a Friday night, I'd be dead when I got home—if the police didn't pick me up first.

            Squinting against the light of the phone, I lock the screen and slip it back into my pocket; my brain not yet fully registering where I am and what has happened. Marley lies sleeping right beside me, his face a few inches from mine. I gently remove his crooked glasses and place them on the nightstand. Afterwards, I get up as quietly as possible to head to the train station. Unfortunately, in trying to find my shoes, I accidentally kick a pile of games over and hear Marley stirring.

            "What's up?" He says, slowly coming to. "You leaving?"

            "Yeah." I say. "It's almost nine."

            "Oh shit, it is?" Says Marley. "You wanna stay the night?"

            A part of me weighs the option in my head but quickly dismisses the idea. "Nah, I should get home."

            "Ok." He says, sitting up.

            I hadn't noticed because of the blanket but he'd taken his shirt off. Sitting down on the end of the bed, I turn my attention entirely to my shoes, making an effort not to stare.

            "Want me to walk you to the station?" He asks.

            "It's cool. I can manage."

            He stretches. "Ok." Looking up at me he smiles and moves closer to me, pulling me into a half hug. His skin is so warm. "You sure you don't want to stay? My parents wouldn't care."

            He pulls me in so close that my face is almost pressing against his neck. And to be honest, everything inside me wants to kick my shoes back off and just climb back into bed with him . . . but something is holding me back. I don't understand why. I mean, I think I've earned a fun night with my friend, right? I've spent so much time anxious and upset because of the whole Leo thing and now I finally feel comfortable, happy and safe and I should just allow myself to enjoy more of that. Shouldn't I?

            Marley places his hand on my cheek again, pressing his forehead against my own. "So?"

            I can feel myself about to say ok when his mouth gets so close to mine and then, ever-so-slightly he kisses me. Or at least I think he does. It's so softly, I almost can't tell. It sends this jolt through my entire body. Whether it's good or bad, I'm not sure, but the shock of the feeling hits me so hard that I abruptly stand up, breaking free from his embrace. 

            "I've got to go." I say.

            "Ok." Says Marley, sounding both understanding but disappointed. "Hang out again tomorrow?" 

            "Maybe." I say, swinging my backpack over my shoulder. "I'll let you know for sure."

            "K." He says. "Text me when you make it home, ok?"

            "Will do." I say, and leave his house.

            I sit on the train with my head pressed against the window, letting my forehead hit the glass with each bump, completely lost in thought. What the hell just happened? Did Marley actually kiss me? He's straight though, right? And if he did kiss me, did I enjoy it? Did I want him to do it again? Hell, I nearly thought about texting Mom and saying I'd be back in the morning and going back to sleep right there and I don't understand why. See, metro guys are really hard for me to read, because I always feel like they send me mixed signals. Maybe it's because of my ASD or maybe it isn't, I don't know. All I know is that it confuses the hell out of me and I hate it.

            Ok, but how is sleeping with me in his bed with his shirt off a mixed signal? That seemed pretty clear to me. Whatever. The point is that whatever that was with Marley tonight . . . I enjoyed it. His words echo in my mind: You sure you don't want to stay? I rub my temples, trying to rid my brain of thoughts of if I had said yes . . . And what I may or may not have wanted to have happened next.