Ann Aguirre - As Long As You Love Me

“You mean not realizing something hurt until it stopped?”

“Yeah.”

“Leaving school was like that. I didn’t want to admit I was different. You know how many mornings I freaked out silently about going to class?”

“Because you hate being around people?”

It was impressive he knew that. Even Nadia had bought it when I reinvented myself in high school, changing my personality, my habits, everything. She never questioned that I’d turned into a social butterfly when, in fact, I was just a caterpillar with a pretty parachute. But ultimately, living a lie made me miserable. With my personality, there was no way I could work as a lobbyist without a constant barrage of anxiety attacks.

I nodded. “And you know, maybe I should be strong, get over it and be normal. But that feels like shaving my edges to fit in the wrong slot.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Rob said. “It’s not like you’re afraid to leave the house or can’t buy milk from the Stop & Go. So what if you don’t like people?”

That much was true. My social anxiety didn’t prevent me from accomplishing routine tasks. It was more that I’d realized that being a lobbyist would require constant interaction on a level that horrified me. As for college, I hated the parties that other people seemed to view as the Holy Grail, and the only way I could cope was to become someone else. Also, I drank a lot, more than I’d liked to admit. Though I wasn’t a full-on lush when I left, I could’ve easily turned into one of those people never spotted without a glass of wine.

“I was just in denial,” I said.

“About what?”

“The fact that I’m computer dork and always will be. I’m more comfortable behind a screen than joking around at a party. Only booze makes the latter possible. And drinking led me to some questionable life choices.”

“Like what?” I could tell from Rob’s expression that he didn’t expect me to say anything truly shocking.

How cute, Lauren thinks she has a dark past.

It wasn’t like I’d killed anybody, but I did feel bad about hurting Max, my former housemate. I hadn’t realized he really liked me until it was too late.

A contrary impulse made me mutter, “Fucking my roommate, for example.”

“Why was that dumb?” From the slight widening of his eyes, he hadn’t expected me to bring up sex; he radiated a sort of reluctant curiosity.

“For so many reasons. But that wasn’t the stupidest thing I ever did.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t ask.” Finally, Rob was looking at me as if he understood this wasn’t a joke, and I wasn’t playing around.

I shrugged. “So don’t.”

“But now I’m curious.”

“Well?” I prompted. “Are you asking?”

“I guess I am.” He shifted to face me, eyes steady on mine.

Was I really telling him this? Nadia didn’t even know. But the scare convinced me I had to rethink everything, coming on the heels of another blunder. I couldn’t tell him about that one.

“Drunk Lauren got caught—by a cop—while giving a BJ in a moving vehicle. That’s a misdemeanor, by the way. Indecent exposure and reckless driving.”

“Did you get arrested?” That wasn’t what I expected him to ask.

“The cop gave us both a Breathalyzer test. Luckily, the guy I was with passed. I didn’t. The officer decided my judgment was impaired and let me off with a warning.” I couldn’t face Rob, so I stared at my hands, preparing for the brotherly lecture about my abysmal behavior that was sure to follow.

“I can’t talk about this with you,” he said huskily.

I raised my head, puzzled. “Why not?”

His eyes were storm-dark, not angry. Something else. An emotion I’d never seen in Rob. “I’m human, Lauren. Damn. Like you said before, I’m not your brother, and that mental picture? It’s...distracting.”

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