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Note: This is actually a kind of funny story...

Another one of our fumbling liasons in his father's empty apartment. Oddly we had chosen his tiny room over his father's sprawling bed this time. Maybe it was fate.

We were tangled in one another and in the heat of the moment I uttered the words I swore I'd never say aloud.

i love you.

lowercase. no emphasis. just plain, irrefutable fact. I tensed with fear as he looked at me. He never really stopped what he was (ahem) doing. He slowly leaned down and kissed me. A gentle kiss. A kiss of comfort, not one for the heat of passion, not one that repeated my sentiment wordlessly. He buried his face in my neck and I started to cry. Very quietly, I don't know if he knew. But I cried.

Just when I thought I was going to collapse in on myself, I heard the front door being unlocked and a familiar tenor voice say, "Will, I'm back a day early from the Bahamas!"
As if to say, "I'm not stupid and I know that my teenage son may be up to something, so I'm going to clearly announce myself!"
Will froze in my arms. He pulled away and we stared at each other in mute shock. He pulled the sheet around me and ushered me to the closet. As the door closed, I was watching him pull on some shorts and wondering if her remembered that I have a problem with confined spaces. I heard him enter the living room and say in his best "sleepy voice", "Oh, hey dad."
"Will, do you have a sunburn?" (noting his son's flushed appearance and the fact that it was February.)
"No dad, it's just hot in my room."
"Oh."(doesn't sound convinced!)
"Yeah, uh, I'm glad you came home when you did, I'm supposed to be at a party at Gabe's in half an hour and I had fallen alseep..."

I'm thinking to myself, "Where are you going with this...?"
In a flash I remember that my clothes are all over the living room! I can see it now, two pairs of black jeans, two black t-shirts of a suitably goth nature, two pairs of boots (one pair freakishly smaller than the other), a bra here, some panties there, some boxers stuffed in the couch somewhere.
"We're SCREWED!"my mind screams. He's bound to notice. There are three options to choose from:
a.)His father is blind.
b.)He thinks his son like wearing women's undergarments when no one is around.
c.)He knows that Will has that little goth girl here somewhere.
I hear his father pick up his bags and go to his bedroom to unpack. In the meantime, I hear Will scuttling about in the living room trying to collect everything, trying to be stealthy. His footsteps draw closer and suddenly I am blinded as he opens the closet door. A rain of clothing assaults me as the door is quickly and quietly closed. I sort what's mine from what's his and try to clothe myself in the pitch blackness of this tiny, tiny closet. My fear of small spaces eclipsed by the fear of humiliation at the hands of someone's parent. I try not bump into anything as I struggle into my bra and panties. I keep repeating, " Thin walls, thin walls, c'mon girl, be very, very careful..."
His father is in the bathroom now, the room adjacent to this closet. I all but hold my breath as he talks to Will about his trip. I finally pull on the rest of my clothes and hear the answer to my previous mental question to Will,"Hey dad, I was supposed to pick up some soda for the party and I don't have time to get ready and stop by the store and still get there on time...do you mind doing me a favor and goin' out and snaggin' me a couple of two-liters?"
Ah-ha! A fairly transparent ploy to get his father out of the house. I wonder if it will work.
"Sure," his father replies. I can almost hear the knowing smile that must be on his face,"I'll be back in about ten minutes."
I hear the front door close and suddenly the closet door is thrown open again. Will looks absolutely frantic. Doesn't he understand that we're off the hook? His father knows, he's cool with it, at this point he's just letting his son escape with his dignity intact. Will shuttles me out of his room, digging his car keys out of his pants pocket. ("When did he get pants on?"I think to myself) He leads me to the back door, which I didn't know existed until this point and sends me down the dangerously steep stairs. As he's shooting glances out of the kitchen window he says,"Sorry 'bout this, dad just pulled out. Please go downstairs and get in my car. I'll be down just as soon as I can!"
Why all the cloak and dagger bullshit...we're busted...accept it. I trudge down the stairs chuckling at the terror in Will's eyes. I get in the car and I wait. I see his dad pull up and park on the street (thankfully not in the parking lot where I am) and get out of his car dutifully weighed down with two-liters of Coke. Five minutes later Will comes down with those same sodas. He hops in the car and we start to drive.
"Where are we going?"
"I dunno'. I wonder what Dave's up to?"
"What are we gonna' do with those?" I indicate the bottles of Coke.
"I dunno', drink 'em I guess..."

Thankfully the terrible "i love you" incident seems to be forgotten by both of us, all that's left is the relief of not getting caught. I don't know what feels better, not having to face Will's dad, or not really having to face Will.

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