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. She s dying, he said.What to make of that? Was I supposed to feel something? I didn t.Maybe alittle numb. Well, I m sorry for her.Are you done back there? He pulled up my boxers as an answer and snapped the elastic back into placeat my hips.Grabbing my pants, I jerked them on and turned around.So muchfor Peter at my naked ass.I wasn t going to ask the very wrongly-timed questionof how he liked it. That s it? He looked up at me, brow pinched. What do you want me to say? I don t know the woman. I moved to thecloset, turning my back on him to grab a shirt and tie.I heard more rustling behind me, and then he was leaning against the closetdoor. Then why are you angry all the sudden? I m not angry. I yanked a shirt off the hanger and shoved my arms into it,fingers shaking so badly I could barely button it.Peter gently brushed my hands 242 Dani Alexanderaside to do it for me. Sero-something.Liver disease? he hedged.Both of us watched the quickrise and fall of my chest; another dead giveaway that I was upset. Cirrhosis, I amended. And fuck her.I don t give a shit. The muscles in mymouth were beginning to hurt from being pinched.He nodded, remaining silent while his fingers ascended the button ladder. You didn t ask me how I knew about it. My asshole father and his passive-aggressive way of getting me to help.Hetold you, assuming you d relay it.I m surprised he gives a shit.When she croaks,he ll be free and clear to continue schtupping that fucking gold-digging bitch ofa secretary. He smiled indifferently, flipping my collar up before reaching for the tieand winding it around my neck.Wisely, he changed the subject as my angeramplified. Schtupping? It means Do you think I m stupid? He pulled tight on the knot and glared at me. It was just an old-fashioned word.I thought Never mind.And, no, Idon t think you re stupid.Anyone who teaches himself seven languages withoutfinishing seventh grade is not stupid. Sixth grade. He smoothed out my tie and looked up at me.I frowned,checking the knot. I didn t finish sixth grade.I wasn t good at school. Even more impressive, I said softly, thumbing his lips. Thanks for the help. He nodded again, pulling away to sit on the bed, propping up on his hands. I m not fluent in them, either. I grabbed my suit jacket from the closet as a distraction, trying to think whathe was driving at. It s not like you to belittle yourself. That s not what I m doing. He blew a puff of air, sending his hair flyingwildly off his brow. Then why diminish your accomplishments? Why use words like schtupping and diminish your accomplishments ? Because they re words I know? Jesus, I was becoming Cai, answering Shattered Glass 243questions with questions. Exactly. If I had a list of my most used phrases with Peter, this would be zenith amongthem: Huh? You and your big words and fancy education.Your two-thousand dollarsuits and your ridiculous million-dollar haircut that barely needs to be combedafter a shower.You re either pushing me away by calling me a whore or trying tofit me into your world by making me more than what I am.I m just Peter.A guywho didn t finish sixth grade and had to have his younger brother help him withcollege work. I was stunned by this progression of conversation and required restraint notto lash out at him.Or check my hair. Why are you so angry now? Why are you trying to make me some gifted student who magically learnsthings and has a great future? Why wouldn t you have a future? I have a future, just not one that fits into what you expect! And just what do I expect? Our voices progressively grew louder. Some fancy linguist or interpreter or something like that.It s not going tohappen. Because you won t ask for help? Is it money? Oh, it s always about money with you, Austin, isn t it? He stood up, ournoses barely inches apart.My eyes flickered to his lips, tongue darting out to wetmy own. You re lucky my ass hurts or I d throw you on the bed and show you exactlyhow much it isn t about money with you! I twisted on my heel, snatching thecell off the bureau and slipping it into my pocket as I shrugged my jacket on. And if your ass didn t hurt I d fuck you so hard into the mattress you d forgetevery word except more and please ! I froze in the doorway, heart marching like an army platoon, and came face-to-face with a wide-eyed, red-faced Cai. Oh, um& yes& well& there it is, he mumbled, eyes darting frantically around 244 Dani Alexanderas he pointed down the hall. I there s they His face was so red I halfexpected the glow to light my way downstairs as he zoomed away mid-sentence.When had I become so self-involved? Answer: always Shit, Peter muttered, ready to chase after him.I stopped him before hecould get out the door, slamming it shut and closing him in.Cai had dialed my anger down to simmer, allowing my tone to come outcalm. This conversation isn t over, I said. We re not fucking, so if that s what s Peter, goddammit, you re the one with a mood disorder! He glared at me.Isighed, running a hand through my hair [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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. She s dying, he said.What to make of that? Was I supposed to feel something? I didn t.Maybe alittle numb. Well, I m sorry for her.Are you done back there? He pulled up my boxers as an answer and snapped the elastic back into placeat my hips.Grabbing my pants, I jerked them on and turned around.So muchfor Peter at my naked ass.I wasn t going to ask the very wrongly-timed questionof how he liked it. That s it? He looked up at me, brow pinched. What do you want me to say? I don t know the woman. I moved to thecloset, turning my back on him to grab a shirt and tie.I heard more rustling behind me, and then he was leaning against the closetdoor. Then why are you angry all the sudden? I m not angry. I yanked a shirt off the hanger and shoved my arms into it,fingers shaking so badly I could barely button it.Peter gently brushed my hands 242 Dani Alexanderaside to do it for me. Sero-something.Liver disease? he hedged.Both of us watched the quickrise and fall of my chest; another dead giveaway that I was upset. Cirrhosis, I amended. And fuck her.I don t give a shit. The muscles in mymouth were beginning to hurt from being pinched.He nodded, remaining silent while his fingers ascended the button ladder. You didn t ask me how I knew about it. My asshole father and his passive-aggressive way of getting me to help.Hetold you, assuming you d relay it.I m surprised he gives a shit.When she croaks,he ll be free and clear to continue schtupping that fucking gold-digging bitch ofa secretary. He smiled indifferently, flipping my collar up before reaching for the tieand winding it around my neck.Wisely, he changed the subject as my angeramplified. Schtupping? It means Do you think I m stupid? He pulled tight on the knot and glared at me. It was just an old-fashioned word.I thought Never mind.And, no, Idon t think you re stupid.Anyone who teaches himself seven languages withoutfinishing seventh grade is not stupid. Sixth grade. He smoothed out my tie and looked up at me.I frowned,checking the knot. I didn t finish sixth grade.I wasn t good at school. Even more impressive, I said softly, thumbing his lips. Thanks for the help. He nodded again, pulling away to sit on the bed, propping up on his hands. I m not fluent in them, either. I grabbed my suit jacket from the closet as a distraction, trying to think whathe was driving at. It s not like you to belittle yourself. That s not what I m doing. He blew a puff of air, sending his hair flyingwildly off his brow. Then why diminish your accomplishments? Why use words like schtupping and diminish your accomplishments ? Because they re words I know? Jesus, I was becoming Cai, answering Shattered Glass 243questions with questions. Exactly. If I had a list of my most used phrases with Peter, this would be zenith amongthem: Huh? You and your big words and fancy education.Your two-thousand dollarsuits and your ridiculous million-dollar haircut that barely needs to be combedafter a shower.You re either pushing me away by calling me a whore or trying tofit me into your world by making me more than what I am.I m just Peter.A guywho didn t finish sixth grade and had to have his younger brother help him withcollege work. I was stunned by this progression of conversation and required restraint notto lash out at him.Or check my hair. Why are you so angry now? Why are you trying to make me some gifted student who magically learnsthings and has a great future? Why wouldn t you have a future? I have a future, just not one that fits into what you expect! And just what do I expect? Our voices progressively grew louder. Some fancy linguist or interpreter or something like that.It s not going tohappen. Because you won t ask for help? Is it money? Oh, it s always about money with you, Austin, isn t it? He stood up, ournoses barely inches apart.My eyes flickered to his lips, tongue darting out to wetmy own. You re lucky my ass hurts or I d throw you on the bed and show you exactlyhow much it isn t about money with you! I twisted on my heel, snatching thecell off the bureau and slipping it into my pocket as I shrugged my jacket on. And if your ass didn t hurt I d fuck you so hard into the mattress you d forgetevery word except more and please ! I froze in the doorway, heart marching like an army platoon, and came face-to-face with a wide-eyed, red-faced Cai. Oh, um& yes& well& there it is, he mumbled, eyes darting frantically around 244 Dani Alexanderas he pointed down the hall. I there s they His face was so red I halfexpected the glow to light my way downstairs as he zoomed away mid-sentence.When had I become so self-involved? Answer: always Shit, Peter muttered, ready to chase after him.I stopped him before hecould get out the door, slamming it shut and closing him in.Cai had dialed my anger down to simmer, allowing my tone to come outcalm. This conversation isn t over, I said. We re not fucking, so if that s what s Peter, goddammit, you re the one with a mood disorder! He glared at me.Isighed, running a hand through my hair [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]