Hidden(15)

“Yeah.” It’s all I can get out. It may sound like nothing, but I’ve never hung out with anyone. What does that even mean? He seems unsure about leaving me alone but I’ve been alone for eighteen years. It’s what I’m used to.

“Feel free to use whatever you need in Laney’s room. She won’t mind. She has tons of clothes and whatever you may need.”

“Thanks.”

After Dillon heads out to the ranch, I find myself exploring Laney’s room. I’m sure it’s a typical girl’s room, but I’ve never seen anything like it. There is so much color everywhere. She must like purple. She has makeup and perfume and lots and lots of clothes. There are books and stuffed animals everywhere. I spray a bit of her perfume on my wrists. It smells like candy. I like it. I keep sniffing it as I gather a bunch of books from her shelves that look interesting. Very interesting.

As always, when I feel the need to escape from my thoughts and my loneliness, I read. I curl up on Laney’s bed and open one of the books. This one is about an awkward girl that falls in love with the high school jock. It’s nothing like Romeo and Juliet or Pride and Prejudice. I love reading about kids in school. It sounds like so much fun; best friends, dances, and boys. About halfway through, my eyes get wide as I read about the things he does to her body. Things with his tongue, his fingers and his….cock? I’ve read text books about sex. They use technical terms. The words they use and how they describe sex in these books is nothing like I’ve read before. I’ve been told touching is dirty and evil, but yet as I read about this boy touching the girl, licking and sucking on her skin, pushing his cock inside of her, I feel other things. Parts of my body awaken. I feel pulsing sensations and wetness between my legs. My body screams to be touched, but my mind is warring with it, conjuring up visions of my mother screaming and crying while the skinny man does things to her. I think about the things I’ve seen and the things she’s told me and it terrifies me. But when I think about Dillon, my heart races, my skin heats up, and my belly flutters. It doesn’t feel dirty or scary, it feels good. I want so badly to crawl into his arms, to feel his warm body against mine. I want him to touch me like this boy in the book touches the girl. I need to quiet my mind and let my body win the war. I finish the first book and scan the pile for another, but then I hear a faint knock on the door.

“Amy?”

“Come in.”

“Hey,” he says poking his head inside the door. “I just need to hop in the shower and then I’m all yours. You doing okay?”

I nod. He smiles at me and closes the door behind him. I let out a big whoosh of air. He was sweaty; really sweaty. His shirt was clinging to his chest and I could see the outline of his muscles. Then he said he was all mine. I don’t think he realizes what his words mean to me.

An hour later, Dillon is freshly showered. His hair is damp and messy and he smells so good. We stand side by side in the kitchen putting together a pasta dish from a recipe he got from his sister. He pulls out pots and pans from the cabinets and ingredients from his pantry. His pantry is huge. I can’t bring myself to go inside. His kitchen is nothing like what I’m used to. It’s big and bright with lots of windows. Dillon hands me a tomato and a knife.

“You like to cook?” he asks.

“Never really have. Just soup and stuff.”

I pick up the knife with one hand and steady the tomato with the other, but I’m unsure of what the hell I’m supposed to do. He notices my hesitation and without a word, gently puts his hand over mine and shows me how to cut the tomato into chunks. I feel his touch throughout my entire body. It’s warm and tender, but still my breath hitches and my hand flinches. He pulls his hand away immediately. I do the next two on my own and bite at my lips trying not to smile like an idiot at my ridiculous accomplishment.

“Since my sister moved out and my dad stays in Denver often, I started to cook more. Pasta is easy and you can make it so different each time. Laney has a bunch of recipes.” He pauses. “So, speaking of Laney, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Okay.”

“I want to call her and ask her to get you into the office where she works. She’s a nurse. Have you ever been to a doctor?”

“What kind of doctor?” He’s making me nervous now. He thinks I’m crazy like my mother and wants me to take medication and I won’t.

“You know, like a girly doctor,” he says awkwardly, not looking at me.

“Oh.” A doctor used to come to the house when I was little but the last time was a long time ago.