Leaning over, she grasped my leg. “Does it hurt when I squeeze right here?”
I jumped and screamed. For some reason, she found this amusing.
“Why’d you do that? That hurt!”
She smiled. “Just checking.”
“Checking what? I already told you—I’m sore.”
“I just wanted to see if little old me could make a big, tough army guy like you scream.”
I rubbed my leg. “Yeah, well, let’s not test that anymore, okay?”
“Okay,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”
“You don’t sound sorry.”
“Well, I am,” she said. “But it is kind of funny, don’t you think? I mean, I rode just as long as you, and I’m fine.”
“You ride all the time.”
“I haven’t ridden in over a month.”
“Yeah, well.”
“Come on. Admit it. It was kind of funny, wasn’t it?”
“Not at all.”
On Sunday, we attended church with her family. I was too sore to do much else the rest of the day, so I plopped myself on the couch and watched a baseball game with her dad. Savannah’s mom brought in sandwiches, and I spent the afternoon wincing every time I tried to get comfortable while the game went into extra innings. Her dad was easy to talk to, and the conversation drifted from army life to teaching to some of the kids he coached and his hopes for their future. I liked him. From my seat, I could hear Savannah and her mom chatting in the kitchen, and every now and then, Savannah would come into the living room with a basket of laundry to fold while her mother started another load in the washing machine. Though technically a college graduate and an adult, she still brought her dirty clothes home to Mom.
That night, we drove back to Chapel Hill, and Savannah showed me her apartment. It was sparse in the furniture department, but it was relatively new, and it had both a gas fireplace and small balcony that offered a view of the campus. Despite the warm weather, she got the fire going, and we snacked on cheese and crackers, which, aside from cereal, was about all she had to offer. It felt indescribably romantic to me, though I’d come to realize that being alone with Savannah always struck me as romantic. We talked until nearly midnight, but Savannah was quieter than usual. In time, she wandered to the bedroom. When she didn’t return, I went to find her. She was sitting on the bed, and I stopped in the doorway.
She squeezed her hands together and drew a long breath. “So . . . ,” she began.
“So . . . ,” I responded when she remained silent.
She drew another long breath. “It’s getting late. And I’ve got an early class tomorrow.”
I nodded. “You should probably get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” she said. She nodded as if she hadn’t considered it and turned toward the window. Through the blinds, I could see shafts of light streaming in from the parking lot. She was cute when she was nervous.
“So . . . ,” she said again, as if speaking to the wall.
I held up my hands. “Why don’t I sleep on the couch, okay?”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all,” I said. Actually, it wasn’t what I preferred, but I understood.
Still staring toward the window, she made no move to get up. “I’m just not ready,” she said, her voice soft. “I mean, I thought I was, and part of me really wants to. I’ve been thinking about it for the last few weeks, and I made up my mind and it just seemed right, you know? I love you and you love me, and this is what people do when they’re in love. It was easy to tell myself when you weren’t here, but now . . .” She trailed off.
“It’s okay,” I said.
At last she turned toward me. “Were you scared? Your first time?”
I wondered how best to answer that. “I think it’s different for men and women,” I said.
“Yeah. I suppose so.” She pretended to adjust the blankets. “Are you mad?”
“Not at all.”
“But you’re disappointed.”
“Well . . . ,” I admitted, and she laughed.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“There’s no reason to apologize.”
She thought about it. “Then why does it feel like I have to apologize?”
“Well, I am a lonely soldier,” I pointed out, and she laughed again. I could still hear the nervousness in it.
“The couch isn’t very comfortable,” she fretted. “And it’s small. You won’t be able to stretch out. And I don’t have any extra blankets. I should have grabbed a couple from home, but I forgot.”
“That is a problem.”