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Creators(17)

By:Tiffany Truitt


It had happened in the woods, the vast land of greens and browns that separated council-controlled territory and the settlement the community was so desperate to keep safe. We had made that bit of woods our own. We had always been able to do that—take a place and define it to suit our needs. The piano room. The closet after the party. The jail cell.

Knowing full well that death was a possibility, I had given myself to James in those woods. I hadn’t wanted to risk missing out on anything. Not when I knew that our meeting with George could mean the end of it all.

But it wasn’t the only reason I had had sex with James. I’d done it because it was what I wanted to do. Want. Desire. All the things the council programmed us to think were dirty and wrong.

But it hadn’t felt wrong.

I didn’t have sex just because I could, either. I knew what it meant for me, and I knew what it meant for him. Whatever the council wanted to make of it was up to them. Even Sharon had changed it to suit the needs of the community. For me, it had been about intimacy.

It had been everything.

It was the first time I had ever completely and utterly trusted anyone in my whole life.

“You don’t have to be careful with me,” I had whispered.

“Won’t it hurt?” he’d asked, moving closer to my lips, his hand running up and down my back.

“Yes.” I’d nodded. “But don’t worry, I won’t break.”

James had hesitated, and, to be honest, it drove me a little mad. I bit on my bottom lip and tugged on the waist of his pants. His breath caught and he looked down at me. His face flashed red as the heat traveled down his neck. I unbuttoned his pants.

And then he had been helping me shed my clothes. It was as if we were both taken over by a frenzy, a fiery fit of emotions. I hadn’t been able to help but giggle. Both naked, we just sat there and stared. My eyes traveled across the body science had perfected, and when his eyes moved across mine in turn, I didn’t feel embarrassed by the randomly flawed construction. The way James looked at me left no room for mortification. His eyes only carried awe.

James had licked his lips as he reached for me, placing a gentle hand on my hip bone. His fingertips grazed my skin, and my whole body erupted into goose bumps. His hand traced its way up my torso. Ever so slow, ever so adoring.

James cleared his throat. I couldn’t take one more second of waiting. I closed the very small distance between us and pressed my hungry lips against his. James, who had always been so careful with me, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him with a force that left me breathless.

His tongue pressed against mine, moving not like a teenager afraid of the voyage he was about to take, but, instead, like a man who didn’t worry if he made a mistake. Because no matter what happened in these moments, we had chosen to share them together. Once I realized that, I didn’t feel nervous anymore. We would always be each other’s first. No one, not the council or the community, would ever be able to change that. As we fell to the ground, moving and shifting together, becoming one with each other and the woods that protected us, I knew there was nothing more natural, more human in the world than this.

Maybe sex could mean all the things the council said. Betrayal. Lust. Weakness. But it didn’t mean that’s what it had to be to us.

For us, it felt like hope and love and promise.



“Tess, you should come inside. Your neck’s going to hurt like hell if you sleep like that.”

I reluctantly opened my eyes, letting free the weighty breath I held trapped in my throat. I left the comfort of that moment—the moment that would forever only belong to James and me.

Henry reached down to help me up.

“Do you mind sitting here for a bit?” I asked, nervous for the conversation I was about to have, knowing I owed it to the boy in front of me to attempt it.

When I’d thought that I would never see James again, I had allowed myself to feel something for Henry, something I had never been able to completely define. He was my first friend, and when we lived together back in the compound, he had distanced himself from me because we had been taught that love was wrong, But together in the wild lands of the Isolationists, we had grown close. Closer. Henry had always been sure of the way he felt, but I never had such clarity. All I knew was that the shared kisses between us never stirred my soul like the ones I shared with James.

“Of course not,” Henry replied, taking a seat next to me. “But why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like it?”

“Because you won’t. I need to talk to you about James,” I said softly.

Henry sighed. “We don’t need to have this conversation tonight.”