Months passed. Liv would remember this time as a sort of bittersweet in-between. In May she turned seventeen. Every weekend she would tell her mom that she was sleeping at Wilma's, either Saturday or Sunday, or occasionally both if she and Thomas were particularly indulgent. During the weeks she'd have him on the phone as she got ready in the morning or unready at night and they would text in class if he had a break at work that timed up. If she had late practice he would drive or walk her almost all the way home, with hot dogs waiting. There was this permanent feeling inside of her as if she really wanted to kick her legs out of happiness, whether it was in the morning when she woke up or right before she fell asleep.
Although she wasn't sure of what what they were doing would be called from an outsider's perspective. They were... dating, in a sense but the sticky secrecy was very much prominent in most things they did together. It was prominent when Thomas had to drop off Liv at least a block away from her house, when he bumped into an old classmate in the store and she had impulsively hidden behind the taco-shelf to avoid questions, when Salma called to check up on him and he never as much as mentioned Liv's name once, despite her sitting right across from him at the table, studying.
Plus, she felt as though they were only just scraping the surface of the physically intimate part of their relationship. Now when she stayed over she would sleep in his bed with him. However, Thomas made it a point to always sleep in sweats and a t-shirt and had rebuked all of Liv's attempts at moving towards anything beyond kisses and caresses. This puzzled her and filled her head with doubts and concerns. All Wilma's three past relationships had contained sex, bad sex that lasted about one minute before the guy came, but still. Wilma had told Liv this, shrugging, as if it was a nuisance, but an inevitable one all the same.
Once, when Liv and Thomas had been about to go to sleep and he leaned over to give her a kiss goodnight, it had turned into a very prolonged make-out goodnight. Somehow, she had ended up on his thigh and through the fabric of her underwear he had felt her arousal and she was aware too, because when she heard him gasp slightly she had gotten embarrassed and moved and accidentally brushed against the part of him that reassured her he did, in fact, want her too.
"I'm sorry, I...", she wasn't sure of what she wanted to say.
"Don't be", he said through his teeth and turned to face the ceiling, scooting away from her.
"Couldn't we..?"
Liv didn't have to spell out the suggestion fully before he interrupted.
"No. We couldn't."
Wounded by his sharp and decisive tone, she also moved away.
"You don't want me like that?"
"What I want doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure you felt what I want", he muttered.
"So then why not?"
"Because...", he turned back to face her, slid the strap of her top back up onto her shoulder, "It wouldn't be right."
"I didn't know you to be so conservative."
"It's not conservatism, it's morale. If we had sex, Liv, the word for it in some of America's states would be statutory rape."
At that word, she tensed and his grim expression softened slightly.
"You always make everything into something ugly", she said grudgingly, "You know the age of consent is fifteen here. It could never be... what you said."
"Maybe not. But it wouldn't be right."
"No? How old were you when..?", she blushed, realizing it might be too forward a question.
"Doesn't really matter, because it was with someone my age."
"Salma", Liv guessed immediately and when he didn't deny it she wished she hadn't asked or guessed because that same nauseating jealousy made itself known in her chest and before she could stop herself she started saying things she knew he'd hate hearing.
"So if Melvin fucks me that'd be totally fine by you, ethically I mean?"
Going very still, he looked at her in a way that made her avert her challenging gaze.
"Not his name and that word in the same sentence, Liv, I beg of you. And that's your answer to the question."
"Well how is that..."
"Because you were nine years old when I slept with Salma and I hadn't, thankfully, fallen in love with you yet."
"Okay", she grumbled, "That's a fair point."
Still, she thought to herself, it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Salma had been with, seen, Thomas in that way and she hadn't.
Sighing, he kissed her, paused with his mouth next to her ear and started to whisper something.
"When the time is right."
"Fine. Am I allowed to touch myself or is that... also against your principles?"
At first she was expecting another rebuke or even a laugh but he looked seriously at her.
"Of course not. I'm not denying you your sexuality. You're a teenager, of course you're gonna want to..."
"Good", she smiled and raised her eyebrows, "Because I really do. In fact, would you mind terribly if...", seeing that her hand was moving towards herself he went rigid but she saw how big his pupils had gone all of a sudden.
After what felt like forever he swallowed and gave a small, small shake of his head.
"I wouldn't mind", he said hoarsely, lying back down, staring up at the ceiling.