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Discovering Delilah(11)

By:Melissa Foster


Why was it so much easier to give my body over to a guy than to do this?

My thoughts turn to Ashley and how much I wanted to kiss her this morning. I’ll lose my mind if I have to go any longer pretending that I don’t have feelings for Ashley, and being with Janessa will give me the answers—and the experience—I need to know if I’m doing the right thing.

I look across the booth at Janessa, and nothing about this situation makes sense in the conventional way. It’s the weirdest offer I’ve ever received and definitely the strangest one I’ve ever considered, but for whatever reason, I feel like this is also the most important decision of my life. I trust Janessa. Something in the way she’s looking at me, like she wants to help me, not like she wants to devour me, makes me feel comfortable, and I’ve never been comfortable with my sexuality. That means something, doesn’t it?

I want to do this. I don’t want to make a fool of myself with her or Ashley, but if it is a choice, I pick making a fool of myself with Janessa. Because if I totally screw up, or don’t end up liking making out with a girl, then I’ll definitely want to run away afterward. And I could never run away from Ashley.

The sooner it’s done the better.

Assuming I enjoy the sexual side of things, this will give me enough confidence to talk with Ashley about how I feel, and on the off chance Ash is into me, then I won’t be fumbling through the rest. Or maybe I will, but at least it won’t be like it’s my first time.

Thinking it through is making my stomach feel like the inside of a whirring blender.

Before I can chicken out, I blurt out, “I want to do this.”

“Okay.” She smiles.

“Okay.” Oh my God!

Janessa shrugs. “Jackie’s staying with Dean again tonight. I guess she couldn’t get enough of their fort last night.”

Tonight? “Okay.” Not one single part of me believes I’m going to go through with this, but the affirmations keep coming—This will help. I’ll finally know for sure—and Janessa is looking at me with such compassion that I start to believe I just might follow through.

She scribbles down her address on my order pad as I rise from the seat. When I reach for it, she covers my hand with hers.

“No pressure, okay? If you decide you don’t want to do this, just call and let me know. And if you do…” She smiles, and her eyes go dark. “Then I promise we’ll have a nice night together and you won’t be disappointed.”





Chapter Three


~Delilah~

AT NINE O’CLOCK I’m standing on Janessa’s front porch with my heart jackhammering in my chest and my phone fisted in my hand. I have no idea how I made it up the front walk, but now that I’m standing on her porch, I’m stiff as a statue. Petrified. I couldn’t knock if I wanted to. That would take moving my hand, and my hand is not going anywhere. I still can’t believe I’m standing here beneath her porch light. I’m doing this. I’m about to give up my lesbian virginity. Is that even a thing?

I look down at my outfit one last time. I wore a sundress and my favorite pair of black lace-up boots. My mom bought me these boots about three years ago, and they’re my go-to comfort shoes, even in the summer. I wear them with everything from shorts to dresses, and I usually feel confident in them. I’m still waiting for the confidence to kick in. I’ve already nearly chickened out three times.

I inhale a lungful of cool air and look at Janessa’s one-story home.

This is where it’s going to happen.

So much better than the backseat of a car. Inside I laugh a little at the thought, but my nerves swallow that laugh before it has time to come out.

Oh God! Am I really doing this?

Her house is cute, with blue siding and white trim. It looks cozy and comfortable, unlike our houses, which are both way too big. I prefer smaller places, like Ashley’s apartment. My nerves go a little crazy when I think of Ashley. For some reason I feel like I’m cheating on her, which is totally nuts. She probably doesn’t even like girls.

She did give me that look.

Wishful thinking, Dee.

She was checking out Wyatt the first day we met, although she did say that was because she was an artist and interested in the human body. What if she isn’t into girls? Do I still want to do this?

I turn and look at my Jeep, nibbling on my lower lip as I debate making a run for it—but I really want to do this!

My phone vibrates and I turn it over. Janessa. Goose bumps form on my arms, and with a shaky finger I open the message.

Should I open the door or are you considering bolting?

Gulp. I lift my eyes to the door. Janessa waves from behind the glass. Instead of opening the door, she shrugs, smiles. I text her back, too nervous to open my mouth.