I couldn’t open my eyes. I couldn’t face him. The space in the car closed in around me. I turned an even darker shade. I’d bite off my arm before I’d tell him I was a virgin.
“Eli, what’s going on?”
Um. Heart palpitations, sweaty palms, trouble breathing.
“Eli, answer me, what’s going on?”
I couldn’t speak.
Greg grabbed my chin firmly and turned my face to him.
“Eli, open your eyes.”
I did and I could feel them frantically darting around the car. Like my eyes were wild horses desperately trying to escape.
“Eli, look at me.”
I shook my head ever so slightly.
“Eli.” His voice was firm. Calm. I looked at him. “I want to know, right now, what you’re thinking and feeling that has you looking like you’re about to stroke out.”
I didn’t answer.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We don’t have to go to my place. We can go to a fancy restaurant, or for a walk in the park, or to a bar. I can take you back to the wedding.”
The pressure around my heart released but the air also got colder. “I don’t want to go back
to the wedding, or anywhere else,” I said. “I want to go to your place.”