And he's pressing into her and she into him, bodies shivering, like they are two scared, lost children, starving, starving to be touched, to be held, by someone, anyone, the first one they can find who seems familiar enough, safe enough, strong enough to rescue them. They breathe, heavy. Hard. Their fingers strain at cotton. And then they slow down. Stop. Hold. Rest. Before one of them, or both, begins to sob. Before they break another piece that needs to be fixed.
Lisa McMannAre you okay?" she whispers, giggling. Me? Oh sure. You might have to carry me out of here, though." What happened?" I created a distraction." I gathered that." Step stool, encyclopedias, floor." I see. Well, I can't thank you enough." Sure you can. Help me flunk enough tests, so I drop out of the 'torian range." Can't you just tell Abernethy that you have a reputation as a dumbshit to keep up, and you don't want the attention?" Flunking is more fun.
Lisa McMann