Chasing Shadows (23 page)

"People actually
do
that?" Qasim asks.
His voice startles me. I'd forgotten he was here.

"Sounds like it." I murmur. "I bet that
hurts."

He laughs and squeezes my waist. "Did you learn
anything?"

I laugh now too, and meet his eyes. "Nope.
Next?"

"Fuckin' ay." He says. I giggle. Oh man we're
not going to get through all of these I can tell. I should've
waited to read them alone. We make it through a few more without
comment. We're on another Kelly letter when I glance at the box.
There are probably over a hundred in there. I check the date on the
e-mail, 2006.

"You've got to be shitting me." I
say.

"What?"

"Look at the date. I bet this correspondence
goes all the way up to three years ago." I check to the bottom of
the box and look at the date on the last letter. Sure enough, 2008.
Qasim just stares at me. He doesn't see why I'm irritated. "Any
really useful information is probably going to be near the end, but
just in case I'm going to have to comb through all of them. It's
gonna take forever."

Qasim grins. "No it won't, we've read like ten
of them already."

I look at the read pile. "Did we learn
anything?"

He laughs. "Kelly, South Florida, Daddy issues
(obviously), ambidextrous, likes it in public places." I’m
blushing, Qasim goes on. "Madeline, Chicago, law school, likes
older men, likes getting paid for it, likes women."

"Fuck, stop. Not that. Was there a boyfriend's
name? Family name? I think Kelly might be an alias. Where did Kelly
go to school? Who was Madeline seeing? Anyone steady? Anyone
possessive?"

Qasim shrugs. "Not yet. Better keep
reading."

I laugh. "What time is it?"

He checks his phone. "8:15."

I lean into him. "We going to the art
show?"

Qasim grabs my chin with his right hand and
moves in to kiss me. Just like that, no segue, no nothing. I kiss
him back, of course. It’s a lot like the first time but better, no
beer taste. I let the letter fall back into the box, so I can get
hand into his hair. After a few beats of this Qasim pulls back.
"You want to go to the show?"

I look at his lips and then his eyes. I shrug.
"I have this research to do. Maybe we could order a
pizza?"

He grins. "This is the best date
ever."

"Whatever." I say. "It doesn't mean you're
getting lucky. I'm gonna switch to reading from the back of the
pile. You keep reading from the front. Remember to read for clues,
not just sex." I move off the couch and sit cross legged on the
floor. Qasim reaches over and strokes my hair. I look up at him. I
know what he's thinking. "Order a pizza."

"What do you want on it?"

"Sausage." I hear his breath whoosh out. I
think he's trying not to laugh. "What? I like sausage." Not meeting
his eyes, gingerly I lift the stack of letters from the box and
place them on the coffee table. I divide it in half and turn the
back half upside down. "There." I say pointing. "You read from
those. I'll read from these and
take notes
."

He makes a whip sound and says "Yes
Ma'am."

I smile and squeeze his calf casually. He goes
all tense for a second. I look up, meeting his eyes. Qasim smiles,
visibly trying to relax. Geeze, I like his eyes. Okay, back to
work. The last letter in the stack is from Kelly. It references
that she's coming up to see Mads. I check the date, February 3rd
2008. Holy cow, that's right before I materialized. "I need the
notebook." Qasim hands it to me and I write down the info. I do a
quick scan and set the letter down reaching for the next one. It’s
from Madeline. "Pay dirt... I think."

"What?"

"Madeline references someone named Harley. It's
the first name she's used." I look up at Qasim.

"Actually, it’s the last name she's
used."

I roll my eyes. "You know what I mean, at least
its something." I notice his hands are empty. "You're not reading."
I say. "And you haven't ordered pizza."

Qasim shrugs.

"Hey, if you don't want to help me with this,
it's cool. We can do something else."

He gives a self conscious smile. "Reading them
together is one thing, but if I read that pile and you read the
other then it's not really doing something
together
, you
know? It’s actually really, fucking weird to spend our first date
quietly reading porn."

I laugh. "You have a point."

He shrugs. "So what'd the letter say about
Harley?"

I nod eagerly. "That he can't wait to meet
Kelly."

"Okay."

"Yeah I know it's not much. They were probably
just planning to bang him together. Doesn't really mean anything
yet. But hey, now we know when Kelly came to Chicago."

"We do?"

"Oh yeah, I didn't tell you. It was the last
letter. Kelly said she looked forward to seeing Mads on spring
break, February 2008."

Qasim shakes his head. "See? It'd be better to
read together, you're no good at sharing information."

"Okay, fine. Order a pizza and then we'll read
together but from the back of the pile."

He reaches out to touch my head again. He's
awkward at it, like he's not used to giving affection, but he's
trying to figure out how. I grab his hand off my head and kiss his
palm casually. "Pizza. Before we get too involved in the
letters."

He nods and digs out his phone. While he's
doing that, I stand up and rearrange the letter piles again. Now
they're all in one stack, face down with a discard pile in the
shoebox lid. I turned the twenty or so we've already gone through
from 2006 sideways. I'm in the process of obsessively tamping the
edges of the stacks to make then as uniform as possible, when I
feel Qasim's fingers running lightly up the back of my thigh. I
bite my lip. He's learning kind of fast.

"Twenty or thirty minutes." Qasim says. "Give
me a sec to read the two you read without me." And he reaches
around me for the letter, in such a way that he's hugging my
legs.

"Cool." I'm totally used to his voice now. It’s
only a little higher than Chris Angel's. If I think of it that way
it’s almost hot. I run my finger lightly through his soft curly
hair while he's reading, and Qasim presses his cheek against my
hip. I'm so glad I wore some of my new jeans. They're a little
looser than the pair I wore last night but they still make my ass
look good. Thinking of last night brings Schuyler to mind... And
now I feel guilty. Guilt, as per usual, makes me angry. Why should
I feel bad about being here with Qasim? It's not like Schuyler's
actually into me that way. I huff in irritation.

Qasim looks up. "Something wrong?"

I smile. "No." And to prove it, I grab the next
letter, push Qasim back into the couch, and sit on his lap facing
him. It’s like the first night we met, except my legs are folded
under me straddling his. I scooch up a little and hold the letter
to my right turning my attention to the vivid details of Kelly's
sexual exploits. I tilt the page so Qasim can read too. He wanted
to read together right? Qasim swallows loud enough for me to hear.
I glance at him. He’s reading. It’s only about five paragraphs long
but it takes Qasim a few minutes and while he’s reading he
tentatively places his hands on my thighs. I rest my left hand on
his neck. Damn he looks good in white.

When he’s finished he looks up at me. “Learn
anything?”

I shrug and smile. “Next?”

He nods, squeezing my legs. “Next.” Without
getting up I twist around, stretching to place the read letter in
the read letter pile and pick up the next one. Qasim’s hands
migrate to my back. We go on like this for a few letters. Madeline
uses the name Harley several times. He seems to have been sort of a
steady boyfriend who was aware of and in on most of her sex life.
The way she uses it, I’m almost positive that ‘Harley’ is either a
nickname or an alias. The read pile is about twenty letters thick.
I turn to get another one, this one from Kelly. When I turn back
Qasim grabs my head and gently pulls me down to him. He places a
soft kiss on my lips and repositions for another one. I wrap my
arms around him obligingly and settle in to make out. He’s rubbing
my back and my left hand is tangled in his hair. He makes a soft
little noise. I realign my hips. My legs are beginning to cramp
which distracts me. Also the letter in my right hand is getting in
the way.

Qasim moves down to kiss my neck and my eyes
stray to the printout. I’m sort of skimming it, sort of enjoying
the man underneath me when the sentence ‘Kevin called it off’ jumps
off the page. I read with some focus now. “Holy shit.” I whisper.
Kelly was engaged to a guy named Kevin and he called it off. Qasim
must think I’m exclaiming over him because he thrusts his hips
forward and I feel his hard on against my thigh. Dilemma: Do I tell
Qasim what I read in the letter? This may insult him because I was
reading while he was kissing me. Do I pretend I didn’t read it and
wait 'til later? This will irritate him if he comes to believe I
didn’t share information with him. Qasim slides his hands under my
sweater and begins massaging my breasts... Yeah I can tell him
later.

Gingerly I set the letter to one side before
reaching down and removing my sweater. I know I’m very fast to get
topless. I don‘t know why, I’ve always been that way. It’s never
been a problem. Qasim slides my right boob up out of the bra, the
blue push up one Lupa made me wear yesterday, and sticks my nipple
in his mouth. He’s sucking on it and using some teeth. Fuck. I moan
involuntarily and reach my left hand down to feel his hard on
through the denim. When I make contact with it, Qasim crushes me to
him. Oh this is nice, but I don’t know how he’s breathing with my
boob pressed to his face like that. He opens his mouth wider and
now appears to be trying to eat it. A good part of my C cup is all
warm and wet in his mouth. I really like the pressure his tongue is
making, oh fuck. But the rest of me is getting cold. I shiver, not
sure if I want to interrupt him to say I need a blanket. You know,
I believe I’m much better at this drunk. Sober I’m just not really
keeping my head in the game.

The doorbell rings and I sigh. Good, now I
don’t have to be rude. The pizza’s here. Qasim acts like he didn’t
hear the bell so I grab his hair behind his ears and gently remove
his face form my breast.

“Pizza.” I whisper. He gives me this wonderful,
desperate look. I lean down and kiss him, hard, lots of tongue. “Go
on.” I say when I release his mouth. “Get the food.” I kiss his
neck for a second and then get off him. “Ow! My legs.” Shit they’ve
fallen asleep. I laugh. Qasim looks concerned. I wave him away,
still laughing, as I shake out my legs. “Sat like that for too
long.” I say. Man, my right boob is freezing where the cold air
hits the saliva. I cover the poor thing with my hand. Damn,
nipples’ like a rock. The bell rings again. “Get the pizza.” I say
with mock desperation. He stands and looks down. Well hell, you
could see that bad boy from across the street. Qasim looks
panicked. I giggle, adjusting my boob back into the bra. “Hand me
my sweater and I’ll get the pizza.”

“I’m paying for it.” He says passing me my
top.

“So hand me your money too.”

Qasim grins. I roll my eyes and take the cash
he’s offering. The doorbell rings again. “Coming!” I shout trotting
back down the hallway to the kitchen door. It’s weird to have the
front door open into the kitchen. I always think of kitchens as
being by a back door. I answer for the delivery guy and make the
exchange, delighting in the warmth from the pizza box. Reluctantly
I set the thing down on the table. Qasim is walking slowly towards
me, reading on his way down the hall.

“She was engaged.” He says.

“Really?" I feign ignorance. I’m a terrible
liar but Qasim doesn't notice. He hands me the letter and while I’m
reading it for the second time he wraps his arms around me. I feel
his hard on against my back. I lean into him. “Food first, or sex?”
I ask.

He breathes into my hair running his hands over
my abdomen. “I thought you said I wasn’t getting lucky.” His
fingers slide under my waist band.

I smile and wriggle a little, feeling his shirt
crinkle against me. I shrug. “Changed my mind. I’m cold though so
we’re doing it under the covers.”

He laughs turning me around to face him. Qasim
softly brushes my hair back from my face. “Uh.” He says looking
down at my mouth and then my eyes. “Do you have any
condoms?”

I feel my smile evaporate. “You’re shitting
me.” I say a little too harshly. “You don’t have protection?” I
hear my voice squeak.

He shrugs and looks helpless. “You acted like
you didn’t even want to go out with me. I... I didn’t
think...”

I groan and drop my head against his shoulder.
“But you’re a guy. You’re a
cute
guy. You can’t tell me you
don’t keep condoms around just in case.”

Qasim exhales sort of desperately. “I’m kind of
a nerd.” He says. “I mean, I’m a chemist for Christ’s sake. When do
I meet girls?”