The Infinite Moment of Us (22 page)

walk all over you, and I am so, so sorry.”

He hugged her fiercely. “I know. And so am I.”

“And I do want to . . . you know. Have sex. Make love.

With
you
, Charlie.” She pulled back and looked at him. “I want that. Okay?”

“I want that, too,” he said in a low voice.

She tried a smile. “You do?”

“Wren.” His eyes focused on her for a long, charged

moment. “I’ve always wanted you. I want you now.”

She laughed, because she was nervous, even though his

words made her toes curl. “Well, you can’t have me
now
.”

Her pulse fluttered. “It’ll be a week before I’m safe.”

He furrowed his brow.

“I went on the pill.”

“You did?”

Wren laughed again, still nervous but not
as
nervous.

Also, she was delighted by his stunned-in-a-good-way

reaction. “And . . . you need to be tested.”

“I do?”

She unfolded her legs and perched on her knees. “I don’t

want my first time to be with a condom unless we have to,”

she whispered. “Just you and me—that’s what I want.”

“Us,” Charlie said.

“Us,” she agreed.

c h a p t e r s i x t e e n

Charlie’s test results came back: He was clean, as

he’d hoped and assumed he would be. With Starrla, he’d

always worn condoms, and Pamela had made sure he had

the HPV vaccine along with his other vaccinations.

With Wren, he was happy that their first time—which

would be her first time, ever—would also be a first for

him, and in more ways than one.

He was determined that their evening be perfect. He

had some ideas of his own, but he decided to talk to Tessa,

too. Tessa was Wren’s best friend, and best friends, when

they were girls, talked about things like sex. Charlie had

gleaned that much from TV and movies. He knew from

experience that guys talked about sex as well, but he had

a feeling the content of their conversations was different.

But given Wren’s decision to go on the pill (he still mar-

veled that she’d done that, and for him), he suspected that

Wren had told Tessa that she expected her first time to

happen soon. Charlie didn’t know Tessa all that well, but he

liked her. Most important, they both loved Wren. So who

better to ask about girl sorts of things?

Tessa was delighted to help. She was giddy as she

answered his questions, clapping her hands and bouncing on her toes. She gave him unsolicited advice as well,

instructing him firmly to take charge when things got

“steamy.”

“Girls like guys who are strong,” she informed him.

“Okay,” he said. He hadn’t planned on not being strong,

but okay.

“I’m serious,” Tessa said. “When it comes to sex, a girl

wants the guy to take charge. Sometimes, I think, guys try

to be too sensitive. And there’s nothing wrong with sensi-

tive! Sensitive is awesome. But hear me out, all right?”

“Sure,” Charlie said. That’s what he was there for, even

though when it came to that part of it—the physical part—

he had a pretty good idea of how to please Wren already.

He loved Wren, and so he’d been a quick study when it

came to the mysteries of her body. He paid attention. He

knew what made her gasp with pleasure.

“Well, it’s kind of my mom’s theory,” Tessa said. “My

mom says that girls are told over and over that they can do

anything, be anything, have it all. Right?”

“Okay.”

“And, of course, we can. Women rock, and in reality, we

are
the stronger sex.”

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck. He reminded him-

self that he’d chosen to approach Tessa, first of all, and it

would be rude to raise his eyebrows. He also reminded

himself that Tessa was . . . Tessa. “Her bark’s bigger than her bite,” Wren had said of her friend. “Not that she bites—or

barks! But there’s more to her than what you might see on

the surface. She’s actually really smart, and really insightful.”

Charlie cleared his throat and said, “Okay.”

“But my mom also says that in all this girl-power busi-

ness, a crucial fact has been glossed over. Wanna hear it?”

“Sure.”

Tessa narrowed her eyes. “You don’t sound sure.”

Charlie was startled. “What do you mean?”

Tessa pressed her fingers to her temples, then dropped

her hands. “I’m sorry. I might be the teeniest bit overpro-

tective. Of Wren. I just want everything to go well!”

“I do, too.”

Tessa pulled at her hair. “
Aggh
. I’m lecturing you. I’m sorry. I’m such a spaz.” She opened her mouth, then closed

it, then looked at him hopefully. “It’s good, though. It’s a

good
lecture. Shall I continue?”

Tessa smiled and wrinkled her nose. Charlie shook his

head and said, “By all means, continue.”

“Okey-dokey,” she said. “Well . . . my biggest point,

really, is that girls and guys are different.”

“Huh.”

Tessa swatted him. “I mean it! And maybe what I’m say-

ing doesn’t fit the conventional view of feminism, but I

think guys and girls, if they’re straight, should celebrate

and enjoy their differences.”

Charlie wasn’t sure how “the conventional view of fem-

inism” came into it, or what “the conventional view of

feminism” was.

“It’s just my opinion, but a guy should be a guy, and

a girl should be a girl, at least when it comes to doing

it,” Tessa said.

“Doing it?”

“Doing
sex
.” She blanched. “Oh my God, did I just say

‘doing sex’?”

Charlie laughed.

“Okay, I am so done!” Tessa said, laughing as well. “Wow,

I’m kind of an idiot, huh?”

“Nah, you’re fine,” Charlie said.

“Am I? Aw, thanks, Charlie. And tonight, with Wren—”

She clapped her hand over her mouth. When she moved it,

she said, “Oh shit. I wasn’t supposed to know! And maybe

it isn’t tonight! Wren kind of thinks it might be, but she did
not
tell me that, and I totally didn’t tell
you
that, all right?”

“Tell me what?” he deadpanned. He tried not to show

it, but it made him happy that Wren would be guessing and

speculating and talking to Tessa about it.

“Right.
Right
. Just, whenever the time comes, take

charge.”

“Got it.”

“Oh!” Tessa cried. “And one more thing.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Ha-ha—but I’m serious. This is my girl I’m talking about.”

My
girl, Charlie corrected. But maybe Tessa’s girl, too.

No. Tessa’s friend;
his
girl.

“I know you’re not the kind of guy who gets all

glazed-eyes-ish and gropy-hands as things, you know, prog-

ress,” Tessa said. “And that is extremely good, because when

a guy gets like that, it makes the girl feel like she’s not even there. That she could be just any girl and it wouldn’t matter.”

“Wren will never be ‘any girl,’” Charlie stated.

Tessa blushed, which surprised Charlie. “I know,” she

said. “And you know what? I know that
you
know, and I

know that you, Charlie, are a really good guy. I’m glad you

and Wren found each other.”

Charlie started to say, “Okay.” He changed it to, “Uh,

thanks.”

“And I’m going to shut up now, I truly am, except to

say that groping hands and glazed eyes aren’t what a girl

wants. She does, however, want to feel pretty. Pretty, and

admired, and . . . seen.”

“I’ll do my best,” Charlie said.

“Make Wren feel special,” Tessa said. “That’s all.”

Wren already is special, Charlie thought. I hope she

knows that. I hope I make her feel that way.

“I’m done now,” Tessa said.

“Okay,” Charlie said. “I mean . . . thanks.”

She gave him a spontaneous hug. “You
are
a good guy,

Charlie.” She stepped back. “What are you going to do

when she leaves for Guatemala?”

Charlie’s gut tightened.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up, not tonight.” She

sighed. “I, personally, wish she wouldn’t go, but I think

she’s pretty set on it. And she’s been told no so many times

that I guess I’m glad she’s standing up for herself. I
am
glad she’s standing up for herself.”

“She won’t be gone forever,” Charlie said.

“A year is a long time, Charlie.”

He didn’t need her telling him that.

“Can I ask you something?” she said.

“Can I say no?”

She pursed her lips. “No?”

He half laughed.

“Why aren’t you going with her?” she asked.

“To Guatemala?” he said. He rubbed his face. He’d love

to go to Guatemala with Wren, but he couldn’t drop every-

thing and follow her. Not that that kind of logic, or any

logic, would make sense to Tessa—and maybe it shouldn’t

make sense to him, either.

He sighed. “Because I’m going to Georgia Tech,” he said.

“So?”

So?
So that was his plan, just like Project Unity was Wren’s plan. It was a big deal that he’d gotten in. Gotten

a scholarship. It was a big deal to Chris and Pamela that he

was going.

“Never mind,” she said. “I just wish one of you could

change your plans.”

Charlie looked past her at her backyard. What he didn’t

tell her, and hadn’t told Wren, was that, at the end of June,

he’d filled out an application to Project Unity. He hadn’t

heard back yet. He’d also applied for a passport.

The problem was that Charlie couldn’t imagine leaving

Chris and Pamela and Dev.

Then again, he couldn’t imagine being without Wren.

After leaving Tessa’s, Charlie went to P.G.’s house. At a

stoplight, he flipped open his phone and pulled up the pic-

ture Wren sent him on “the bad night,” as he thought of it.

It
had
been a bad night, but the picture of Wren was wonderful, and he’d never deleted it. How could he?

“My man, good to see you,” P.G. said when Charlie

arrived, clapping Charlie on the back. He ushered Charlie

into his enormous house. “What’s up?”

Charlie asked P.G. if he could borrow his iPod dock, and

P.G. said, “Hell yeah, buddy, although I’ve got something

better than a dock. I’ve got a couple of things better than

a dock. Follow me.”

“Whoa,” Charlie said when he stepped into the Barbees’

finished basement. He’d never been down here before. The

walls of the back room were lined with redwood cabinets,

and when Charlie approached them, he discovered that

some of them were refrigerated. He heard no refrigeration

hum, but he felt the cold radiating from within.

P.G. came up next to him and turned an ornate key that

protruded from a lock on one of the cabinet doors. Charlie

gathered that the key wasn’t to keep P.G., or anyone else,

out. It was simply to keep the door latched. When P.G.

swung the door open, Charlie whistled.

P.G. grinned proudly. “You came to the right guy, I’m

telling you.”

“This isn’t an iPod dock,” Charlie said.

“Nope. But it’s for Wren, right?”

Charlie didn’t answer.

“Bro, it’s me,” P.G. said. “I’m in love with Tessa. Tessa

is Wren’s best friend. You don’t think I know?” As they

trooped up the basement stairs, he threw more questions

over his shoulder. “What else can I help you with? Cheese?

Salted caramels? Chocolate-covered figs?”

“How about the iPod dock?” Charlie said. “And, uh . . .

maybe your iPod?”

“I’ve got an old one you can have, my friend. One sec.”

He jogged upstairs and returned with an iPod, a charger,

and a small black speaker, all of which he gave to Charlie.

“The speaker’s charged. The iPod isn’t. I haven’t used it in

years, and really, I don’t want it back. Just go to Settings to activate the Bluetooth connection. Cool?”

“It’s great. I’m not keeping it, but thanks.”

“You know how to load songs?”

“I think I can manage.” With his free hand, he reached

for his pocket. “Thanks. Seriously. And, uh, how much for

the—”

“Charles,” P.G. said, putting his hand on Charlie’s fore-

arm. “You insult me.”

“Seriously, P.G. Let me pay you.”

“Your money’s no good here. I’ll tell you what you can

do, though.”

“Sure, name it.”

P.G. dropped his slick act and grew earnest. “Treat her

well, bro.”

Charlie nodded. “Will do.”

c h a p t e r s e v e n t e e n

Tonight Charlie was going to pick Wren up at her

house, like a real date. Well, it was a real date. The real-

est of dates. Wren’s stomach held a thousand tiny wings,

and she hadn’t been able to eat all day. She had managed

to paint her toenails and take care of other basic hygiene

needs, and she’d taken special care with her hair, drying

it with a round brush to accentuate the curls she knew

Charlie liked.

She’d bought special lingerie, too. At a real lingerie

store, not Victoria’s Secret. The bra was made in France

and called a “demi cup,” which meant that it pushed her

breasts up and showed a lot of cleavage, basically. It was

sheer for the most part, with a pattern of purple and

deep pink leaves scattered ingeniously to barely cover her