“Please try not to swear in front of my parents.”
Ilona closed the car door behind her and promptly flipped him off. “Are you fucking serious?” She shook her head. “Do you think I’ve never been around parents before? I mean real parents, not alien mutant freaks like Judy.”
“I don’t know. I just, you swear a lot. And I would like, I mean, it would be nice if my parents got to know you a little. I just. I don’t want them to think bad things about you.” He stopped. “This is coming out wrong.”
“Yup,” Ilona agreed. “Don’t worry,” she added. “It will be fine. I’ve been out of captivity before. I know how to behave.”
They pulled up to a stoplight and he glanced at her sideways. She was wearing a pair of dark red pants that weren’t exactly jeans and a black shirt that actually had a collar. “You look nice,” he told her, wishing there were a word besides nice that meant the same thing but didn’t sound quite so boring.
“Thanks. I’m not wearing any underwear.”
“Jesus Christ!”
“Yeah, well, I was kind of figuring I might get you alone in your room for a while, so . . .”
Sweat began to bead on his forehead. He flexed his hands around the wheel, trying to ignore the images that were shooting through his brain like a flipbook on crack. “That’s probably not going to happen,” he said.
“No shit, Ben,” Ilona said. “I just haven’t done laundry in a while, that’s all.”
“Oh,” he said.
“You sound disappointed.”
“Well, I kind of liked the first story better.”
“Oh, well then. What time is dinner?”
“Um, six thirtyish.”
“Ish?”
“Yeah.”
“Are there any dead-end streets between here and there?”
Ben put his foot down on the accelerator. Ilona laughed as he took a little dirt road that led to a semi-abandoned development project.
“I guess so,” she said as he stopped the car in a houseless driveway.
He stared at her for a second, hoping she would lean forward and take charge like she had before. But she didn’t, so he leaned in, and she leaned back. He got flustered. “I’m sorry,” he said, thinking maybe he’d misunderstood.
“For what?”
His mind raced. He was always sorry for something. “For what I said about you swearing. You don’t have to be anyone different from who you are.”
“Really? Or are you just saying that because you think you’re going to get some?”
Then she sighed. “It’s a decent apology really, kind of unnecessary but decent enough. I don’t know if it’s going to get you another blow job.”
“That’s okay,” Ben said. He swallowed hard. “I want to do that to you.”
Ilona cocked her head. “Huh.”
He nodded.
“Well, that’s a much better apology.” She unbuckled her seat belt and squeezed between the bucket seats into the back. He followed her, hoping this wasn’t that complicated since he had no idea what he was doing. He figured Ilona would tell him if he totally sucked at it. He grinned. “What’s so funny?”
“I don’t mind not knowing things around you,” he said.
She pulled at the collar of his shirt, his body squeezing between the two front seats until he was lying on top of her and their faces were too close not to kiss. “Freak,” she said softly, her mouth warm, her lips brushing his.
Acknowledgments
One of the seeds of this book is the experience of finding friendships that make you feel at home in the world. I am lucky to have so many wonderful friends who make me feel supported, encouraged and loved for exactly who I am. So thank you.
Thank you to my agent; the incomparable Lauren MacLeod. In addition to being incredibly thoughtful and responsive, you also get credit for suggesting that I write a book about male friendship and then patiently waiting for its creation. Thank you to Alix Reid for your nuanced editorial eye and for drawing Ben out of his shell and onto the page. Thank you to Andrew Karre for your vision and to all the talented people at Lerner Books for helping to usher this book into the world.
Special thanks to Courtney Tomazin and Ethan Lowell for fielding a flurry of strange questions about all things related to life with hearing impairment—any mistakes are my own. And to Coralie Eileen who knows firsthand that truth can be at least as outrageous as fiction.
Thank you to my wonderful teaching colleagues and librarian friends; especially Kris White, Louise Capizzo, Maureen Passarelli and Karen Sandlin Silverman. A special shout out to my students, past and present. Thank you for laughing with and at me and for ever being an inspiration.
Thanks to my parents for raising me in a home where friendship was family and especially to my father who embodies E.M. Forster’s words, “Only connect.”
Finally, thank you to Lance, Eliana, and Avi. You are my dream off the page.
About the Author
Sashi Kaufman is a middle-school science teacher, author, and amateur trash picker. Wired Man and Other Freaks of Nature is her second novel. When she’s not writing she is most likely out in nature or eating ice cream. She lives in Maine with her husband, two children, and three feral chickens. Visit her online at www.sashikaufman.com.
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