by Molly E. Lee
Hannah wrapped her arms around me, flipping Brandon off regardless of not knowing everything that happened, and ushered me through the door. Jake followed, keys in hand. Hannah sat in the back seat with me as I cried into her chest the entire drive home.
…
I’d barely gotten changed into my favorite Guardians of the Galaxy sweats before Mom knocked on the door.
“Come in,” I said, thankful to be pulled out of the memory as I sank onto my bed.
“Hey, there.” She sat down beside me. “Did you like the arcade?”
“Of course he told you before he told me.” I grinned, shaking my head. Dean was so good. In all sorts of ways. “And I loved it.”
Mom narrowed her gaze. “If that’s the case, then what is this?” She pointed to the creases in my forehead, the stiff line of my jaw.
I smoothed my features. “No, Mom, I seriously loved it. It was perfect up until the end.”
Mom folded her legs beneath her, giving me her full attention. Waiting silently while I tried to work out the battle in my head.
“He tried to kiss me—”
Mom’s excited gasp cut me off.
“But I started crying.”
She jolted, then her face softened. Her arms were around me in an instant, and I willingly leaned against her. “I’m sorry, honey.”
“I can’t believe I was so emotional!” I snapped. “Dean… The night he planned. The way we get along… And we laugh, Mom. Like, I’ve never laughed so much in my life.”
“I know,” she said. “I can see it.”
“But then I ruined it. I couldn’t control it. At all. The memories—” I sucked in a sharp breath, demanding my mind not to fall into the past again. “They crashed my brain.”
Mom shifted a bit so she could look me in the eye. “You didn’t ruin it. And that isn’t stupid. That’s a natural reaction after something so…” The same angry gaze coated her eyes—the one from that night—for a moment before she blinked it away. It had taken everything for me to stop her and Dad from pressing charges against Brandon. From contacting his parents, who were away when he’d thrown the party. I hadn’t wanted the word to spread…didn’t want to acknowledge the situation by tagging charges onto it. I’d just wanted it to disappear. To never have happened.
“You did nothing wrong,” she continued. “You’ll kiss Dean, or have another relationship, whenever you’re good and ready. Not a second before. And if Dean doesn’t understand that, then he isn’t the right boy for you.”
“He does get it, though,” I said, rubbing my palms over my face. “That’s what’s so insane. He gets my friend rule. He wants to know why I have it, not change it.”
Mom narrowed her gaze. “But he tried to kiss you.”
A flush raced over my skin. “I wasn’t exactly throwing up all my barriers,” I said, remembering how badly I’d wanted him to kiss me in that moment. The charge in the air, the excitement from the night, the closeness I felt to him. “Mom.” I glanced up at her. “Am I awful? For wanting to kiss him? After—”
“No,” she hurried to say. “Not at all. Don’t you ever think that.”
It was hard not to think it. After what had happened, I thought I wouldn’t want to kiss anyone for a long time. Never want to let someone get that close again until there were years between what happened. Then Dean happened, and now I wasn’t sure if it was even right for me to be having these…desires.
“It feels different with him.”
“How so?”
I sighed, my body tingling with thoughts of him. “With…you know who, it was never like this. I didn’t even know it could feel like this, and Dean and I aren’t even dating.” I chewed on my lip. “He’s perceptive and kind and funny. And when he holds my hand or when I hug him, it’s like being underneath my favorite blanket and skydiving at the same time.” I cringed. “That sounded so corny.”
Mom chuckled. “No, baby, it doesn’t. It sounds like it should be.”
“I didn’t understand. Before. With Brandon. He was nice in the beginning, and hell, he still acts indifferent toward me. Like nothing happened. But there was never this sense of urgency with him. Not like I have with Dean. Like…” Like I can’t breathe until I see or talk to him again. Like I want him to keep trying despite how much time I need to adjust.
“I see it,” she said, not needing me to say it all out loud.
“But I’m scared.” Something I would never admit to anyone other than my mom. Hannah knew what had happened, but she saw me as the strong girl who was swearing off boys because of it. Not the terrified girl who never wanted to get blindsided again.
“I know,” she said, running her fingers through my hair. “I wish I could tell you that feeling will go away soon, but I can’t. I’m afraid you’ll always have that worry in the back of your mind. That voice that warns you to be careful around people. But…” She sighed. “You can’t let what happened define you. You can let it define the time you need to let someone in again.” She smiled softly. “I’m so damn proud of you, honey.”
The night it happened, I’d sobbed in her arms and asked her if I’d done something wrong. If I was broken because I couldn’t simply let him do what he wanted.
“You are such an amazing, smart girl,” she continued. “And you don’t have to do a damn thing you don’t want to do.”
“I know,” I said. “But what if I do? Want to.”
Mom pressed her lips together, nodding. “Then you listen to your heart and your gut. Just like you did before. It felt wrong. It was wrong.”
I recoiled.
That night. He said I was wrong.
He still felt that I was the one who had betrayed him.
“You listen to those instincts and they’ll let you know.” She eyed me. “And if they scream yes, then…” She shifted on the bed, her eyebrows raised. “You better be safe. You’re still taking the—”
“Mom,” I groaned. “Yes.” I was still taking the pill she’d helped me get on all those months ago because I didn’t want to deal with the side effects if I got off it, but I knew for certain there was no need for it. “I literally cried when he tried to kiss me today. I’m not even to that level yet.”
She waved her hands in the air. “It can happen fast. Especially when you’re already friends with the person. Trust me, I would know.”
I tilted my head.
“Your dad and I were friends for years before he made a move. And when he did?” She whistled, rolling her eyes back in her head. “Game over. I barely waited two seconds before giving it up to him.”
“Ugh, gross, Mom!” I play-shoved at her. “You have to leave now,” I said as she rolled off the bed, laughing. “Write another book so you can afford the therapy I need for that comment!”
“You think your father would charge me?” She laughed.
“I’d never let Dad treat me! Talk about a conflict of interest!” I rolled my eyes, biting back my own laugh.
“Love you, honey.” She held the doorknob.
“Love you,” I said, still cringing as she shut the door.
It took me a good twenty minutes to shake off the heebie-jeebies that Mom’s story had left, but I happily distracted myself with the website. It was easy enough to forget the entire night when buried in comment after comment after comment.
What color of underwear do you wear?
Do you like to use toys? Is that weird if you do?
Where is the best place to do it if you don’t want to get caught?
I was overwhelmed with the questions, more than half of them totally over my head. I was a virgin. The only experience I had with intimacy was jagged as broken glass. Was I really being helpful? Or was I simply a soundboard for questions like this?
No, I could feel the solidarity in the posts I’d done. I had to believe I was helping or all thi
s was for nothing.
And I did have two amazing sources.
Not that talking sex with Mom was enjoyable—clearly—but she was willing to do it. She never shied from a question.
And if I ever got any questions that were beyond sex and more emotional…I’d go to Dad. It was what he did on a daily basis.
My fingers itched. The whirl of emotions begging me to focus on someone else’s needs for a few hours. It was definitely time for another blog post.
All I had to do was pick one out of the hundreds of questions stuffing my inbox.
No big deal.
The hard part?
Maintaining the balance—the question that would be the most helpful as well as being a big middle finger to Principal Tanner and all the other authority figures out there who had ignored this need for years. That is, if it ever fell on his radar. And if it didn’t?
Dean would look amazing in the deadmau5 T-shirt.
Question of the Day
TWcrashandburn asks: “I’m on the pill. We use condoms, too. I’ve been with my boyfriend for so long and want to try it without one. Is the pill enough? Am I crazy to not want the barrier between us?”
I would never think you’re crazy. It’s awesome that you and your boyfriend have been in a relationship long enough to reach this point of trust. That is something to be valued.
The pill, if taken according to the instructions, is 99.9% effective. The numbers say yes, you’ll be fine trying it sans condom. But there is always the chance for complications, so the choice is really up to you and your boyfriend. Talk about the risks vs. rewards, and come to a decision you both can agree on.
Nothing is 100%, and while I’m sure there are plenty of couples who use only one form of birth control, doubling up is always a safer play. The choice is ultimately yours to make, but the numbers are here for you to see.
Whichever you choose, I hope you and your boyfriend take the step together and on the same page.
In the meantime,
Stay Sexy. Stay Healthy.
…
I sat on my bed, sipping my iced green tea for several minutes after the blog had been published. I couldn’t get the concept out of my head—having sex regularly to the point where you wanted nothing between you and your partner.
I mean, holy intense.
But…Dean and I…the feelings I had for him were growing.
Strong.
And that was terrifying enough, but now I couldn’t help but picture Dean and myself in similar situations to whatever my question of the day posed.
I’d fallen into a rhythm and had been posting every day for almost two months now. It was exhausting but so rewarding and it was almost second nature. I was certain both my parents thought I was contemplating going into their chosen professions from all the questions I asked each of them—either a erotica novelist or a teen psychologist. Funny, I never would’ve thought the two knowledge bases would overlap so much.
But I was beyond grateful they did.
Because some of the answers I could dig up on my own, but the tougher stuff? They’d been a massive help. The key to everything.
A twist in my gut squashed the once-warm fluttering butterflies.
What if there came a time they pushed me on all the questions?
What if they knew what I was doing?
I swallowed down the acid bubbling in my throat.
Despite the cold fear icing my spine, I knew I wouldn’t stop.
Couldn’t stop.
Not when my inbox was overflowing, and there were countless people seeking help or solidarity or simply a safe place to talk.
As long as that was the case, I couldn’t turn my back on them.
Chapter Sixteen
Dean
“Tessa Rae Winters,” I chided as I spotted my sister making a beeline for the front door. She stopped short at the sound of her full name.
“Ugh!” She shook out her arms. “Don’t. You sound like Dad.”
I chuckled, folding my arms over my chest as I reached her. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She blinked up at me, baffled. “Colt’s.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t forget, did you?”
Where is her head at lately?
“What?” She furrowed her brow, a flash of panic in her eyes.
My shoulders dropped.
“You want to have another heart-to-heart brownie session?” she asked, a slight teasing in her tone.
“Ha, ha.” I remembered the brownie session from months ago—time was flying by, most of it consumed by TOC prep, website maintenance, and Amber. The brownies had been my attempt to reconnect with my baby sister. Tessa and I had talked that day, sure, but I could tell she was hiding something—she’d been more distracted and absent than me lately. But, when she’d claimed it was nothing—just girl stuff—I had backed off, hoping the gesture was enough for her to know I would always have her back. “It’s Mom and Dad’s anniversary,” I said, and her jaw dropped.
“No, that’s on Friday.” She tilted her head.
I rubbed my palms over my face. “Tessa, it is Friday.”
Did she skip class today? How else would she forget it’s the beginning of the weekend?
“Oh,” she said, her eyes spacing for a minute before she came back around. “Oh!” A bright smile lit up her face for the first time in weeks, and I breathed a sigh.
“There she is,” I said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
“Did they already leave?” she asked, not bothering to look at me while she typed out a fast text.
“Yup,” I said, leading her into the entertainment room. “An hour ago. Mom texted to say they’d checked in safe and sound. Also ordered us not to stay up all night or burn down the house.”
Tessa chuckled and bounced on her toes when she spotted the coffee table in front of our couch. I’d loaded it with all the goods—two thin-crust pepperoni pizzas, three bowls of popcorn, and enough candy and soda to last us all night.
“Yes!” She clapped and then pointed at me. “I’ve got to get back in my PJs,” she said, determined. “Colt knows I’m staying in tonight! Is Sean coming?”
“Already here, sister!” Sean called from the kitchen.
“What?” She disappeared in a blink, no doubt tackle-hugging him.
Relief swirled through my blood—she’d been ghosting us both, but clearly our annual tradition meant more to her than whatever was going on. Maybe I was making a bigger deal about it than it was. Maybe it really was just girl stuff. Stuff I’d never understand.
Amber might.
The memory of our almost-kiss last week rippled through me. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore, I had it bad. But it was way beyond the physical desire churning in my gut. I wanted every piece of her…she just wasn’t ready to give them to me yet.
“Is Amber coming?” Sean asked, rounding the corner while I heard Tessa race back upstairs to change clothes.
I blinked out of my thoughts.
“Nah,” I said, waving him off. “This is family tradition.”
Not that I wouldn’t love to have her here. To be a part of something so important between my siblings and me.
“Wow,” Sean said, sinking onto the couch and cracking open a can of soda. “I hadn’t realized we meant that much to you.”
I rolled my eyes, taking my seat at the opposite end of the couch. “Sure,” I said. “And you’re missing college-level parties on a Friday night to watch a movie with your kid siblings because you don’t care.”
He set the can on the coffee table, grinning. “It’s not just any movie. It’s the movie.” His brow furrowed and he rolled his eyes toward the ceiling like he’d forgotten something.
“What?” I asked.
“Come here,” he said, whispering while he sta
red at the ceiling.
Is Tessa talking to someone up there?
I leaned in closer, straining my ears to hear.
A hard, solid punch stung my shoulder, and I flinched back, instantly rubbing the sore spot. “What the fuck, dude?”
“Just keeping you on your toes,” he said before arching his head back. “Tessa!” he screamed.
“I’m coming!” she yelled back.
“Damn,” Sean said. “How long can it take to put on PJs?”
I laughed. “Dude, you’ve been away too long. She takes two hours to get ready in the morning.”
“No shit?”
“It’s so annoying. I have to steal Mom’s bathroom to get ready.”
Sean snorted. “And all her products she’s obsessed with are everywhere.”
“For real,” I said. “I walk out of there smelling like a chick every time.”
We laughed until our sides hurt. Until Tessa finally came downstairs.
“Why are you two always laughing when I walk into the room?” she asked, plopping down between us.
“Because we’re talking about you,” Sean said.
“Naturally,” I agreed.
She rolled her eyes, folding her legs beneath her before she reached for the remote. “First up?” Tessa clicked the remote’s source button, pulling up the Blu-ray I’d put in earlier. “Yes!” She fist-bumped the air and hit play.
“This movie is such a classic,” Sean said.
“Seriously,” Tessa agreed.
“A time when it was all new and not corrupted,” I added.
“Shh,” Tessa chided me as the Hackers opening flashed across the screen. She grabbed a slice out of the pizza box and handed it to me. Then Sean, then herself. “Cheers,” she whispered, tapping her pizza against ours.
“Cheers,” Sean and I said at the same time.
Every year since we were big enough to be left under Sean’s supervision, we held a movie marathon on Mom and Dad’s anniversary. Even after he went to college, he always came back to carry on the tradition.
Somehow, this year seemed much more important. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that I’d be graduating soon or if it was the recent distance between me and Tessa, or everything that had shifted within me because of Amber.
