We stumble into an empty room. Chelsea’s? Or maybe Kate’s? I feel funny staking claim in either. Like an unwelcome guest, snooping on their private world. The walls are painted a pretty, delicate lavender, the carpet a patterned, plush cream. The wall above the bed is decorated with pretty paper butterflies, varied in size. Everything in its place and a place for everything. It’s immaculate, comforting, serene.
Jake sweeps a few stuffed animals off the foot of the bed then pulls me down to sit next to him. He hasn’t said a word to me since he told me about my eyes. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe the talking will make it awkward. He dips down and kisses the hollow divot above my collar bone, sending shivers up and down my spine. I’ve never been kissed there.
With his lips distracting me, his hands spread along the exposed skin of my stomach. His fingers splay across my skin, creeping their way into the waistline of my jeans. I’ve never been touched there.
My breath catches when he brings his lips up to my ear. The warmth of his mouth and the tingling all over causing me to gasp.
“Is this okay, Mia?”
I’m not sure it is. I don’t exactly want him to stop, but I don’t exactly want it to go much further. “Um...yes, but...can we just go back to kissing again?”
Jake removes his hand from my now unbuttoned jeans, bringing it up to caress my hair. He laughs before he kisses me again. I wonder what’s so funny, but I’m not left wondering too long. This time his kiss is more forceful, more urgent. Before I can think, I am flat on my back, on Chelsea’s or Kate’s bed, with Jake hovering over me.
His hand travels up my leg, causing me to stiffen. It doesn’t stop his tongue from making a path from my ear down to the neckline of my t-shirt. In one swift movement, his hands are tugging at the hem of the shirt, lifting it to expose my lacey pink, push-up bra and my mature helping of breasts. Maybe they led him to believe I’m older, that this is what I want. But if flaunting what I’ve been given means winding up underneath every guy who gets the chance to kiss me, I might have to start rethinking my wardrobe choices. The wardrobe choice that is now crumpled in a ball on the bedroom floor.
“Jake, please, can we slow down?”
He lifts his face that’s buried in my heaving cleavage. After a heavy sigh and a mumble of something under his breath, he rolls off of me.
I feel vulnerable, lying here half naked and, all of a sudden, half drunk. I guess I’d done a little more than sip that beer. I sit up, searching for my shirt. I locate it, crumpled in the corner of the dimly lit bedroom.
Jake hasn’t said a word. Am I at fault? Did I lead him on? Do I deserve this overwhelming feeling of shame? I decide to apologize. Maybe he’ll be less angry once I explain myself. “Jake, I’m sorry. I didn’t...I’m not...”
“Sorry for what? For being a tease? You’re going to make quite a name for yourself on campus if you keep blue-balling guys like this.” He glares at me as I put my shirt back over my head. The incredulous weightiness of his stare frightens me.
“I’m not in college. I’m a sophomore at Westmont. I thought you knew that.”
His dark expression becomes luminous, big and bright with this surprising knowledge. “How old are you, Mia?”
“Sixteen.” I keep my head down, examining the intricate pattern in the carpet.
“Sixteen? You’re only fucking sixteen. Oh my God, I’m sorry. I have to get out of here.” He straightens himself, walking towards the door.” He turns around, raking his fingers through his messy hair. “A word of advice, little girl. Watch yourself. You look a lot older than you think and the way you kiss...oh my God, sixteen? Goodbye, Mia.” He walks out the bedroom door, slamming it shut.
I sink down into the bed, covering my face, fighting the tears that prick the corners of my eyes. Through the spaces in my fingers I notice the cup of beer on the nightstand. I grab it and guzzle down the remains of the now stagnant liquid.
I’m mortified. This is so embarrassing. How am I supposed to rejoin the party as if nothing’s happened? People had to see me go upstairs with him; had to see him run down the steps without me. I will be the laughing stock of every school in town.
So much for social acceptance!
My vision starts to feel a bit fuzzy, my brain mushing things together. I’m still very aware of what just happened, but I don’t think I can handle walking out of the room, down the steps and out into the backyard to Grace. If I lie down and close my eyes for two minutes maybe it will go away.
Please let it all go away.
Someone is slapping my face, shaking my shoulders. When I open my eyes, it’s definitely not voluntary. And that someone is my father!