by Nina Levine
“Hey, Mom,” Ava drags, her lips parting with wide eyes. “We were just talking about clothes and how your wardrobe is every girl’s dream.”
“Uh-huh.” Mom nods, standing still while watching us with her arms crossed beneath her chest. “Ava, could I have a word with your sister, please?”
Ava bolts out of the room, quick to escape the lecture I’m about to receive for attempting to sneak into Mom’s closet.
“Can we talk, please?”
I follow Mom to my bed, sitting beside her as the guilt sets in over my brief lapse of judgment.
“Amelia, I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be. I’m not here to defend your father’s actions.” She takes a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. “Your father loves you. And believe it or not, he’s very proud of you.”
“It doesn’t feel like it. I can never please him.”
“That’s not true,” she informs me with a loving gaze. “He just struggles with his emotions. You’ll always be his baby. And in the blink of an eye, you’ve grown up into this beautiful woman ready to embark on a very important journey. I’m not excusing his behavior. I’m merely trying to point out that he’s trying to come to terms with all these changes.”
I think about what she says. I don’t feel that at all. Dad treats me so differently from Ava.
“Mom? I really want to go to that party tonight. I wouldn’t normally ask once I’ve been given a no, but I really want to clear my head. I didn’t think this whole process could be so stressful, but I was wrong,” I say honestly, continuing, “I know Dad said no, but…”
Mom places her hand on mine with a smile. “You can go, Amelia. As for your father, give him time to process all this.”
Leaning in, I hug her tightly, grateful for her support and friendship. Many of my friends have mothers they can’t call their best friend. I count myself lucky for having both, plus she’s much more level-headed than Ava.
“Now, exactly what shoes are you on the hunt for?”
I laugh softly. “Ava’s idea, not mine. It’s okay, Mom. I’m sure I can find something.”
“The offer is there. Just don’t tell your sisters.” She chuckles but slowly calms down at my expression. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Can I ask you a question? Only between you and me?”
“You can ask me anything. You know we’ve always been open with each other.”
“It’s about your…” I clear my throat, unsure how to raise the topic without my thoughts coming out in a jumbled mess. “Your, um… first time.”
“Oh…”
“Unless, of course, it was with Dad in which maybe we shouldn’t discuss this.”
Mom’s shoulders relax. “No, it wasn’t your dad, but if there’s anything he wishes he could change, that would most likely be one of them.”
“Did you love him? The guy?”
Mom hesitates, then smiles fondly. “I do now, as a friend, but at the time, we were kids just fooling around and curious.”
“Wait, a friend? Have I met this person?”
“Yes, though some things are better left a mystery.”
I remain quiet, opting not to pry into who this mystery man is.
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
“I see…” My mind has so many questions, but I try to focus on the most pressing. “Do you regret it? I mean, do you wish you waited for a perfect moment with someone you did love?”
Growing quiet, she touches her wedding ring before deepening her breath. “I think the timing is everything. It wasn’t pleasant. In fact, it was awful. But I guess, when I look back now, it meant that the next time I gave myself to a man, I did so with better judgment.”
“It makes sense…” I trail off.
“Amelia, I’m not going to tell you what’s right or wrong. Only you can decide that, but that moment is something you’ll never get back. If you have the opportunity to share it with someone special, then it will stick with you forever.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” I reassure her. “I know that most of the girls my age have already had sex, some with more than one boyfriend, but just because I’m eighteen doesn’t mean I have to follow them.”
Mom smiles while patting my leg. “I don’t know what I did to deserve such a beautiful and smart daughter like you.”
“I don’t know what I did to deserve a beautiful and smart mom like you,” I repeat the sentiment.
“You better get ready for tonight. The offer is there in case you need shoes.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I say while grinning. Mom stands up, about to leave the room when I call her name again. “About tonight, Madison’s parents won’t be home. It’s just her older brother and sister. I completely understand if you don’t want me to go.”
Mom hesitates, but her eyes never leave mine. Staring back at me is a woman who loves me unconditionally, a woman who I’ve always admired and hoped to be when I grew up. With her guidance, there’s nothing I can’t do. I just need to muster up the courage to go head-to-head with my father because Yale is the only thing I want.
“I trust you, Amelia. Just be home by midnight, okay?”
“Thank you, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too, kid.”
3
Amelia
Madison Sloan knows how to throw a party.
Her house is located in Bel Air, and according to the stories she tells everyone, the house was given as a wedding gift to her parents almost twenty years ago. Veronica Sloan, a well-known actress, married her father, who happens to be one of LA’s top realtors. Veronica’s grandfather, a prominent director in Hollywood, was said to have cast his daughter in several blockbusters until his death a few years ago.
Madison is never shy in sharing her family’s secrets, including her dad’s affair with their maid, which apparently her mother turns a blind eye on.
Nevertheless, their house is a mansion with sweeping views of the canyons. Its style, a mixture of modern and contemporary, makes for an interesting design choice. Wherever you look, there’s glass everything—large glass windows, glass walls, display cabinets, side tables—I’d never seen so much glass in a house. Everyone from our senior class is here, including others from neighboring schools. This doesn’t look like it will end well, especially given that the jocks are knocking each other around as usual.
“What a place,” my cousin, Andy, whispers beside me. “It’s like a museum… of glass.”
I nod my head, hiding my laughter, careful not to slip in the pumps I ended up borrowing from Mom.
“Amelia, Andy! You came!” Madison throws herself onto us, squeezing us both simultaneously while we glance at each other uncomfortably. “How amazing is this party?”
“Amazing,” we both say in unison.
Madison links her arm into mine, leaving Andy to walk behind us. “You know, Austin is here.”
“I figured since he said he’d come.”
Madison leans in, her perfume stronger than usual. “No one is allowed upstairs but say the word, and it’s all yours.”
I’m about to switch the topic with a nervous smile when thankfully, Madison gets pulled outside.
“Let’s go get something to eat,” I tell Andy.
We head outside, hovering near a table spread out with catered food. I have to hand it to Madison, she went all out, not that anyone else cares. Most of the teenagers here are self-absorbed, eager to get laid by some jock or cheerleader.
The music blares from a DJ booth stationed near the large swimming pool. A few people jump in the pool on a dare—the goofy boys—who I often enjoy spending time with when I need a good laugh.
Andy nods his head, spotting a few of his friends by the drinks.
“Will you be okay?” he asks, though his eyes are fixated on Skylar Fischer, a girl he’s crushed on since middle school.
“I do know how to socialize,” I remind him with a pat on his shoulder. “Will you just go and
have fun? And when are you going to ask Skylar out? It’s senior year. You’ve got nothing left to lose.”
“Um… my ego? Besides, she out of my league.”
“Just because she’s a cheerleader doesn’t mean she’s out of your league. You’re a good-looking guy, your mom is a top fashion designer, and your dad is one of America’s well-known journalists. You come from a good family. Why wouldn’t she like you?”
“You’re just saying all this because you’re my cousin. But I’ll agree with you, it’s my senior year and time to get my shit together.”
He takes a deep breath, his blue eyes widening with slight fear until the usually confident boy I have loved so dearly walks away toward his crush.
I watch from across the pool until arms wrap around my waist as the familiar masculine scent invades the air around me, radiating warmth throughout my chest.
“My girl,” his voice whispers in my ear.
Unable to hide my smile, I turn around and wrap my arms around Austin’s neck. The warm honey hues in his eyes, mixed with caramel, reflect a hazel color I’ve only ever seen when he gazes upon me.
“You’re here.”
“I said I would be.” His smile is so wide, baring his perfectly straight white teeth. “Besides, I’m kind of fond of you.”
I smack his chest softly, his face pained, though only momentarily.
Austin and I have dated all through high school. In terms of relationships in high school, this is considered long-term. Being the gentlemen he is, Austin offered to meet my father, and much to my surprise, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be. It started off shaky, my father, of course, interrogating poor Austin. But when Austin mentioned med school, it all shifted. There was somewhat of a respectful exchange of conversation. I recall Mom telling me that my father studied to be a doctor, though never really elaborated on why he changed professions.
There was, however, one rule. We were never to be alone. Andy chaperoned us on more than one occasion, or Ava, but both of them would abandon us enough to spend time making out or fool around. We just never had sex, something I know Austin wants.
“I love this song,” I say as the music continues to blast. “Let’s dance.”
We dance beside the pool, his hands never leaving my waist. He spends most of his time buried in my neck until he suggests we go somewhere quieter.
Austin leads me toward the kitchen, through a deserted hallway, and up a flight of stairs until we’re on the second level. Opening a door, he pulls me into the room, then presses his lips against mine.
“Austin,” I murmur, out of breath with my hands on his chest. “We shouldn’t be up here.”
He pulls away, his gaze exploring my face until he’s drawn to my lips. There’s a bed in the room and a sofa by the window. Taking my hand, he guides me to the sofa, where the two of us sit.
“So, did you open the envelopes?” he asks, yet much like me, we both try to avoid this topic tonight.
I nod, gently scratching the top of his hand. “I got into all of them.”
“What?” His expression illuminates. “That’s amazing!”
“Yeah, it is…”
“Why the face? You’re not happy?”
“I’m happy I got into three excellent schools, but… well… my father doesn’t exactly approve of me attending Yale. In fact, he said no.”
“C’mon, Miel, you know he’ll come around.”
“I don’t know. Besides, if I stay local, then you’ll be here, right?”
Austin pulls back, scratching the back of his neck. His body language changes, or perhaps my chaotic thoughts are reading too much into this.
“I got into John Hopkins.”
My mouth falls open. “John Hopkins? I didn’t realize you’d applied. I thought you wanted to go to Stanford?”
“Last-minute change.” He lowers his head, avoiding my gaze.
I turn away, my heavy stare shifting toward the window. We have talked so much about this, where we applied and what we wanted to do. Never once did he mention John Hopkins. Part of me feels betrayed that he held this secret from me. No matter what, I’d have been supportive.
“Baltimore,” I drag, trying to make sense of this all. “I guess if I stayed here, we could see each other… somehow.”
“You know what?” His lips curve upward with hopeful eyes following. “Why do we have to worry about it right now?”
“You’re right,” I agree, leaning in to kiss his lips.
With a sense of urgency, he takes my mouth and kisses me deeply. His body slowly hovers above mine, pinning me down on the sofa. I let out a soft moan as his lips trail toward my neck, and his hand moves beneath my dress, skirting at the edge of my panties.
“Austin,” I gasp, trying to control my urges. “Not here.”
It falls on deaf ears as he moves his hands over my panties, causing me to gasp.
“Austin,” I repeat, pushing his chest with more force. “I don’t want to have sex here. Not with everyone downstairs.”
Slightly offended, he draws back. “I understand, but I want you, Miel. I want you.” He swallows. “I want you to be my first.”
We hadn’t exactly discussed our past yet. I know he dated other girls in school, assuming he’s had sex from the few times we were able to be alone and would know exactly what he’s doing. Never did he appear nervous or hesitant.
“I…” I stumble on my words, distracted by the noise downstairs. “I’m not ready, I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you want to hear.”
“I understand,” he whispers, pulling away while struggling, my eyes diverting to his pants to see the reason why.
I pull him back toward me, kissing him hard and guiding him back on top of me. I may not have been ready to lose my virginity tonight, but I still want him and want to show him how much.
With fire in his eyes, his hands move back between my thighs. “Do you want me to stop?”
I shake my head, holding in my breath.
Slowly, he slides his fingers into my panties while deepening his kiss, brushing himself against me as I moan into his mouth. His fingers plunge deeper, the sensation causing me to buckle down as my body begins to convulse with every thrust.
“Austin,” I cry, pulling him into me as I finish blissfully in his embrace.
With a satisfied smile, he kisses me softly on my nose, “I love you, Miel. I don’t know what will happen in the future, but right now, I love you.”
I stare into his loving eyes and gently run my hands through his bronze hair, admiring how soft it feels between my fingers.
“I love you, too,” I whisper, then finish with a kiss to show him just how much.
I wave goodbye to Andy, carrying my shoes since a blister is on the verge of killing me. I have no clue how Mom wears heels every day to work, making a mental note to ask her later.
I close the door behind me, tiptoeing toward the kitchen to grab some water. I switch on the light to see my father sitting at the counter with a drink in hand.
Great. The wrath of a father waiting up for his daughter.
“Hello,” I greet in monotone, avoiding his eyes and walking toward the fridge.
He doesn’t say a word, which comes as no surprise at all. I suspect his next words will be ‘you’ll never leave this house ever again.’
“Amelia,” he calls my name softly. “I apologize for what I said earlier today.”
My head slowly moves out of the fridge. My father gave me an apology? Has the universe gone mad?
I take a sip of water, closing the fridge. “I didn’t apply to Yale to defy you if that’s what you think.”
“I know.”
“I just wanted…” I struggle with my words, my head clouded with Austin telling me he loves me, a high which seems to disappear in my father’s presence. “I’ve always wanted to study law there. And I know Mom has only positive things to say about her experience at Yale.”
“You’re just like your mother,” he confesses, hi
s voice still low. I suspect the Scotch in hand has everything to do with it. “I know you think I’m strict, harsh, or the so-called dictator according to what you and your sisters like to throw around, but I only want the best for you, for all of my daughters.”
I place my shoes on the floor, crossing my arms in defiance. “Then why must you rule every decision of mine? I’m eighteen, Dad, and whether you like it or not, I’m an adult now. I need to make my decisions even if they’re mistakes.”
“I understand that—”
“And I’ve done nothing but prove to you I’m capable. I know I’m not Ava, your favorite, but when have I ever let you down? Everything you want me to do, I do. The only thing I’m going to stand up for is going to Yale.”
I see his face drop, his emotions visible, unlike his usually controlled self.
“Despite what you girls think, I don’t favor Ava.” His emerald-green eyes meet mine, a color identical to my own. “You’ll always be my firstborn daughter, and everything you are reminds me exactly of your mother. And perhaps, what I’ll admit to is that I’m scared. Your mother didn’t exactly have an easy start to adulthood, largely due to my mistakes. I’m trying to protect you.”
“But why can’t you understand that I can protect myself? If there’s anything you and Mom have taught me, it’s to stand up for what I believe in. Never compromise who I am for someone else. So, this is me, Dad, standing up for my dreams, for my future.
Silence falls over the room, the same time the microwave clock flicks to exactly midnight.
“Amelia, if this is what you want, I won’t stop you.”
I absorb his words with a hard swallow, trying to work out whether this is a joke or reality. Given that Dad rarely jokes with me of late, I’m assuming the latter.
I continue to watch him in silence until a small smile graces his face. I’m overwhelmed at the actual thought of attending Yale at the moment, forcing me to place my bottle down on the countertop and throw my arms around him for an embrace. Inside his arms, I feel protected. I can’t recall the last time I hugged him, but my tears begin to fall as I bury my face into his business shirt, accidentally smearing mascara into the white fabric.
