I spent the morning editing the video.
To avoid copyright issues and For any kind of exposure I used my own beats under all the footage. It worked better than I thought it would. The song I put under the Z run matched the turbo note on the pull like I had planned it that way. I watched the full cut twice, made two small trims, and uploaded it.
Good video. Clean, simple, did not require too much of me. I closed the laptop and went to get something to eat.
* * *
Rue and Jules were on the couch. Jules had her feet tucked under her and Rue was half against the armrest with her eyes mostly closed, some show running on the TV that neither of them was really watching. They looked settled. Like the thing between them had actually smoothed out.
I told Rue I was heading out. She raised one hand without looking up. Jules said bye. I grabbed my keys.
* * *
Seven was not home.
Savanna answered the door in booty shorts and a tank top, hair loose. She looked at me the way she had been looking at me every time since the first time, that half second longer than necessary, and then she stepped back and said come in.
The house was different without Seven in it. Quieter. Like a different room in the same building.
We sat and talked for a few minutes and then I said, do you want to go to the mall.
She looked at me. Yeah, she said. Give me a minute.
* * *
I took her to Downtown LA.
She did not expect that. I could tell by the way she went quiet when we came off the freeway and she recognized where we were. She looked out the window and then looked at me and did not say anything.
I had five thousand on me. I planned to spend about half.
We went store to store and I let her lead. She would stop in front of something and I would say get it and she would say no and I would say get it again and she would get it. That was the whole rhythm. She kept thanking me, voice going softer each time, like she was trying to figure out how to hold it.
After the third store she stopped and turned to me and said nobody has ever done anything like this for me.
I smiled. I thought, maybe I am not a completely good person. I also thought that was probably true of most people if they were honest. I said, well now somebody has. She laughed and we kept walking.
I spent twenty-five hundred on her before we left.
* * *
I drove her home. It was just past two. She said Seven had dance practice until six.
I put the car in park and sat there for a second. Then I said, you know how old I am right.
She said, of course.
She said it the way you say something you already knew and already made your peace with. Like the question itself was a little unnecessary. I had to hold back a laugh. I stopped feeling bad about anything.
We went inside.
* * *
I kissed her and she kissed me back without hesitating, her hand coming up to my jaw, and then she was pulling me toward the couch and sitting back and pulling me down with her.
She ground up into my lap slow, her hips working, saying my name low enough that it felt like it was just for the room and not for anyone else. I had both hands on her, squeezing, and she kept going and then she slid down off the couch onto her knees and looked up at me.
She had experience. That was clear from the first thirty seconds. Not in a mechanical way. In a she-actually-knew-what-she-was-doing way, comfortable and unhurried, like she had decided exactly how this was going to go and she was right about it. She smoked every girl I had ever been with. It was not even close.
Then she climbed back up, swung a leg over, and settled onto my lap and started riding me slow with her hands on my chest and her mouth on my neck. She was warm and full and real and she took her time and she kept saying my name between breaths and I kept my hands on her hips and just let her do what she was doing.
She did not stop until she was done.
After, she sat back and fixed her hair and we stayed there for a few minutes not saying much. Then she got up and got us both water and we sat on the couch and talked until it was close to six.
I left before Seven got home.
Drove back slow with the windows down.
I am not going to say much about this one.
She is a grown woman. He was 17 make no mistake about that. Both of them knew exactly what they were doing and both of them walked into it on purpose. What I will say is that Jordan came home that night and sat at the kitchen table and got a glass of water and stared at it for about five minutes without touching it. I came in and asked if he was okay. He said yeah. He meant it. He was fine. He was just somewhere else for a little while. Some people do that to you. Leave you sitting at your own kitchen table thinking about them without deciding to.
END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE