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“Deep breaths,” Joni said, but then she gagged too. She flopped down on the grass as she tried to suck down the last drops from her water bottle.
“You said we were going to go slow.”
Through her own huffs and puffs, Joni lifted an accusatory finger. “I was going to go slow, but you kept speeding up.”
“No, you kept speeding up.”
“Did not. Remember when you said ‘I’m going to beat you to that bridge’?”
“I was joking.” The horizontal nature of the soft grass was too tempting to resist. He found a cool patch a few feet away from Joni. It was way too humid today.
“I didn’t want to slow you down. Seemed like you were processing something. I was trying to be supportive. Goddamn it.” Joni grabbed her stomach. “If I vomit and pass out, you’re fucking carrying me back to my aunt’s house. Why are there so many goddamn hills in this stupid state?”
“Can I remind you that you used to live in Denver?” He managed to lift his head to look at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse before.” The harsh profanity jarred coming out in her ethereal, velvety voice.
“That’s a story time.” She wheezed a laugh. “In med school, I accidently said a particular word that begins with C and rhymes with ‘bunt’ and was overheard by a very verbally precocious three-year-old who had escaped from his mother during a vaccination clinic.”
“Oh no.”
“He ran down the hall singing the word over and over again to the tune of ‘Old McDonald.’”
“Oh no. So… here’s a bunt, there’s a bunt—”
“Everywhere a bunt, bunt.” Joni covered her flushed face. “I thought I was going to get kicked out of school. In my defense, I’d just had a run-in with an obstetric rotation attending… and my goodness, that guy was a real—”
“Bunt?”
“Exactly.”
“So, no more swearing? Cold-bunting-turkey?”
Joni shrugged. “After that incident was never traced back to me, I thought karma was on my side.” She looked in her water bottle again, as if to verify that it was still empty. “Are you going to tell me what you’re working off? How are things with Dylan? Did you go up and talk to him after I left the other night?”
“Dylan’s great, actually. Well, mostly. He’s… never what I expect. Usually in this hilarious and completely disarming way.”
“I’m sensing a ‘bunt.’”
Derek huffed a laugh. “No bunts.” After a few minutes of labored breathing, Derek rolled onto his side. “Can I ask you a completely hypothetical question that if you ever talk about it with anyone else, I will personally go to your med school and find that attending and reveal your secret?”
“Wow. You just immediately turned my deep, dark secret around on me to use as leverage. Bold.” Exhaustion muted her feigned outrage. “You just said a lot of words, and I think most of my blood is pooled in my legs, but yeah, I’m not going to tell anyone.”
Derek stood and extended his hand. “We need to walk, or we’ll cramp.”
“But ground is soft and wonderful, and legs are sad.” She ran her hand over the grass with her bottom lip pouted.
“Up.” He yanked her from the ground.
“Bossy.” Once upright, her face went as serious as a flushed and sweaty face could be. “You can talk to me, Derek. I know it’s been hard to have Olive traveling while your life has been in literal, actual shambles.”
“Hypothetically, can you think of a reason why someone would be nervous about having sex, or mainly just like someone seeing them orgasm or whatever?” He rushed out the last part. “If this is TMI, I’m sorry.”
“Not TMI.” Joni was quiet, considering. She tightened her ponytail as they hobbled a few more steps. “I think there are a lot of reasons. Nervousness or discomfort with one’s sexuality, former trauma or previous unhealthy sexual relationships. I mean, clinically speaking, there are medications or conditions that make it difficult to climax. Lots of reasons, most of which don’t actually have anything to do with one’s current sexual partner or overall interest in sex. This might be more particularly anxiety-provoking in men, given the way we treat male sexuality as a matter of course.”
Derek nodded. “Makes sense. What do you mean by discomfort with one’s sexuality?”
“Like… hmm… So, not to get all deep when I’m literally feeling drunk from how dead I am, but I’m het but aspec. So, in my case, I have to have a pretty strong personal connection with someone before sexual attraction grows. My sister calls this demisexual, but honestly, I just thought I was a little different. I didn’t know this was a thing other people experienced until recently. My last boyfriend was pretty… confused. At first.”
Derek scanned Joni, who was twisting her hands together. In his personal experience, every time he invited someone into knowing about his sexual identity, it felt like a small test with big stakes. It was like whispering Are you going to be comfortable with my existence? into a void and just hoping what came out didn’t attack you.