I also squeezed.“Okay!“ she said. “I’m not a slut.”“If you call yourself that again, I’ll spank you,” I said.She smiled, and then said, “Get up. Get dressed. I mean it.”So I did that. She got dressed, too, and took me back to the dorm.We didn’t kiss good night. Somebody might have seen that.But she reached for my hand and squeezed it.If it seems like Eve and I were all comfy with our new relationship, it wasn’t like that at all. Neither of us could understand, or really quite believe, that Valerie approved of what we’d done. I know that the first time I talked to Val after that, I didn’t say a word about it. Instead, I went into excruciating detail about my physical therapy and all the things I was now able to do by myself.And then there’s the fact that I didn’t see Eve again for another week. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. I felt guilty for cheating on my wife, even if she thought of it as therapy, rather than cheating. At the same time, the intimacy I’d shared. That's what I was to the inhabitants here. The biggest thing since Lighting McQueen had hit this burg.Every car wanted to talk to me. I couldn't take three steps without someone offering me a ride. I was afraid that crashes would be inevitable among those trying to see who could get to me first.Cars hung on my every word. Everyone wanted to know what it's like back where I came from. Were cars really the way Sally had already described them to her friends? Had Sally been like that? There was nothing I could say or do wrong.Interstate trucks pulled off the highway just to offer some of the food cargos they were carrying. Why were they even transporting them? "It's our job," they always said, as if the question itself was simply foolish.Tourist cars wanted their pictures taken with me sitting on their hoods, or inside them. And always more questions. I soon realized exactly what I was here.I was the mythical storyteller from the dark ages. The man who'd traveled the globe — or at least.
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