I swallowed. “Ready,”
He kissed me, and then with his free hand he guided himself inside of me, gentle and slow. I bit down on my lip, tensed all over. But I kept my eyes open and on Julian. “You okay?” he asked, stilling only barely inside.
“Yes.” I swallowed and it sounded more like a gulp. “Why?”
“Your nails are cutting ridges into my arm. I’m fine with it, I can do rough. But I’m not even all the way in yet.”
“Oh, sorry,” I said, easing my grip and rubbing my fingers over the thin dents on his bicep. “Didn’t realize I had you so hard.”
He grinned, his dick twitching. And then he filled me in one swift thrust. I cried out at the intrusion, pushing my face into his chest. His arm came around the back of my head, supporting my weight as he thrust in and out of me at a levelled pace, deep and slow. After the first initial burning, I started to relax, my body opening up more for him of its own will. “You feel so fucking good,” he murmured into my hair, his hand moving down between us, his fingers circling me in hot, delicious sweeps. My legs locked up, readying for the steady build of my orgasm.
“Julian,” I said, breathless.
“I know,” he said, sliding back inside of me, his fingers rubbing my wetness for everything I was worth.
“Oh god!” I clamped around him, his hand coming away and sliding round to my ass, pressing himself deeper into me until he stilled, finding his own release.
After a few minutes, Julian sat back and rolled off the condom. I sat up and pulled his sheets over me to cover my naked body. Now it was over, I felt weird sitting on his bed, fully exposed, and with an insistent pain down below that refused to be ignored. I ran my fingers through my hair. I could feel it was a mess, but it wasn’t out of control.
I was combing my fingers through the ends when Julian flicked on the lamp, the condom in one hand and his eyes on me. “What’s this?” He dropped the condom onto the white sheet in front of me and waited for my response. A brown residue covered the greasy latex.
Blood.
My blood.
My fingers stopped in my hair and I looked at Julian.
“Well say something.”
I didn’t know what to say, he looked so mad. What could I say?
“You’re a virgin?” he said for me. But he wasn’t pleased about it.
I nodded. There was no time to lie, the visual proof was lying between us.
He got off the bed, picking up his boxers and pulling them on. “You could have said something.”
“Why? What does it matter?”
“Because it fucking does,” he snapped. “It matters to me.”
“Why?”
“If I’d have known, this wouldn’t have happened.”
His words were the worst kind of humiliation. His degradation something I would expect to hear from Jordan. But this was Julian, and right now I fucking hated him. I got out of bed and dressed as quickly as possible, Julian’s silence as heavy as a metal weight in the room. I put my hands behind my back and zipped up my skirt, sloppily shoving my T-shirt into the waistband—not that it mattered. I pulled on my panties and scooped up my bra, too pissed to put it on. I pulled open the bedroom door, forgetting anyone else in the house existed, and ran down the stairs, snatching up my jacket and shoving my feet into my flats by the front door.
“Wait,” said Julian, Holding the door closed before I could open it.
“What?” I said, stepping away from him. “Have you not showed me up enough?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? For what?”
“For what just happened.”
He was fucking sorry for sleeping with me. Well that was just fucking great. “Yeah, me too,” I said, and then pushed his arm out the way so I could get out of this house, away from Julian, and call a cab.
<>
My judgement and my expectations had not changed at all since Jordan. I had to face it, I was a bad judge of character. And until I got a handle on it, I was better off staying away from all men. I wrapped up an early session on the ice, my concentration as clear as dust, and went back to my dorm to change and shower before my first class.
Mia was filling her bag with textbooks and her laptop when I got out of the shower. “You were out late last night.”
“Not that late,” I said, more on the forceful side. I picked jeans and a white T-shirt from the wardrobe and started to undress.
“Marilyn said she stopped by the bar last night, but you’d already left. Someone said with Julian Lawson.”
“Sadly, I did.”
“That crowd is not a good crowd.” Mia closed up her bag and got ready to leave. “Your business. I’m just sayin’.”
I struggled into the jeans, thinking about last night and how spot on Mia actually was. “Already figured that out myself.”
“How was the job? Do you see yourself employee of the month in the near future?” Mia smirked, carting her bag to the door. I quickly finished dressing and ran the brush through my hair. It was neither, straight, curly, nor manageable, so I put in a thin gold headband so I at least didn’t have to suffer it in my face all day. I grabbed my own bag and headed out with Mia. “Well, I don’t hate it,” I said. “It wasn’t too bad, though.”
“Can you get me free drinks?”
“When you’re 21.”
“Oh.” Mia gave me a sideways look, her mouth turning down in the process. “Your one of those waitresses.”
When I got to Sociology, it took all my patience and then some, not to scream at Julian to fuck off when he came in and sat down next to me. I saw his mouth open to speak. “I’m not talking to you,” I said first.
“Too bad. I need to talk to you.”
“I’m not listening, so don’t waste your breath.”
“Can’t you let me fucking speak?”
I closed my book before Marcus started the class. “There’s nothing you can say that I can even fathom wanting to hear.” My seat flipped closed as I rose to my feet, and I stepped over Julian’s legs when he wouldn’t move to let me get past. I found a seat near the front of the class and for the next two hours closed off the corner of my brain that was still obsessing over how much of an idiot I was. My virginity was something Julian did not want to take, but I couldn’t see what the big deal was. We’d used protection, and I was a willing participant, he’d never forced me or talked me into it. I was nearly nineteen years old, and I was ready. Finally, with Julian, the guy who with no permission, took all my trust and made me ready. Then fucked it all up with that dumb mouth of his.
I was to blame. It was too soon after Jordan. Julian had offered me a way of moving on, and I’d taken it. It was a bum move, though, because Julian wasn’t just a simple way out. He was so much more than that.
“Angel, how are you getting on with your assignment?” Marcus stood in front of me as the rest of the class chatted away in the prolonged free time.
I covered my lined paper with my arms where I had written down all kinds of ugly and obscene adjectives next to Julian’s name. “Uh, good, I guess.”
“Do you still need my help getting it on paper, or is it not as bad as you thought?”
No it’s worse.
“Writing it down is no longer the hard part.” I kept my voice hushed. “It’s the change of opinion. So far, my opinion hasn’t changed. He’s as bad as I originally thought. Maybe worse. At least I had the pleasure of hardly knowing him then.”
Marcus smiled, flattening his hand on the desk, and leaned down, his fingers smoothing over his silver tie. “Then you must peel more layers. Like the onion, keep on peeling until there’s nothing left.” He smiled. “Maybe the odd tear, but…”
“Got it. Keep at it until it brings me to tears. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
<>
It was raining by the time I pulled up outside of my dad’s house. He’d called me while I was at the library and told me to come straight over, then hung up before there was time fo
r me to answer. Or more accurately, say no. The fact he was at home and not on campus when he had a game coming up was the only thing that got me here. If it was more important than football, then it wasn’t something to ignore.
I killed the engine and readied myself with my bag. It was a heavy fall and I got out, holding the bag over my hair and booked it to the front door, shaking raindrops from my bare arms under the canopy. The door opened and I hurried inside, my skin itching with damp. “What’s the emergency?” I asked, setting my bag on the floor and walking to the living room. I wasn’t expecting someone else to be there. His tone on the phone had felt like this was a private matter. The woman on the couch with the sleek black hair and rich-brown eyes looked up when she saw me, an unsure smile on her face.
“I’ll be in the kitchen with the decanter if anyone needs me.” My dad stormed off, closing the French doors after him so hard they rattled.
My mom smiled at me, her fingers wound tight on her lap. “Wonder what’s got him so rattled.”
27: Julian
“BET’S OFF.” I CURLED INTO another sit-up, the ache growing in my abdomen fueling me for more. Nicky stopped, his arms still braced against the back of his head.
“You can’t just fucking skip out on a bet.” He lowered his arms, and picked up his bottle, guzzling back water.
“I just did.” I kept my breathing level, sweat beading on my chest and forehead.
“You found the one girl that wouldn’t open her legs for you? Wonder if she’d open them for me.”
Right when I thought I was better than that, I fell for the bait. “I never said I didn’t sleep with her.” I folded into another sit-up, my breathing more pronounced, the sweat building under the morning sun.
“If you slept with her, why are you calling off the bet? I’ll need some kinda proof if you want me to believe this bullshit.”
I knocked out ten more sit-ups and then hung my arms over my knees, wiping the sweat off my face with my discarded T-shirt. When my breathing regulated, I said, “This stays between us, you got that? I’m serious.”
“Between us, sure.”
“She was a virgin.”
Nicky’s jaw dropped, and then he grinned, shaking his head. “Even better.”
“No, not even better. She didn’t tell me. I found out after.”
“Dude, missing the point over here.” When I didn’t respond, he said, “Do you like this chick or something?”
I took a drink of water, long turned warm, and then stood up, covering up with my T-shirt. “I don’t know,” I said. “You know where I stand on relationships.”
“Yeah, we don’t have them.” He stood up, draping his shirt over one shoulder. “Coach won’t like it. You heard Donna—”
“Dionne.”
“Whatever. You heard what she said. He didn’t want anyone to find out about his precious Angel, never mind devirginize her.”
“It’s not like that. They don’t get on. That’s what she tells me, anyway.”
“Seven, you don’t want this. Chicks are drama, even the hottest ones. Fuck, especially the hot ones.”
“It doesn’t matter, she’s pissed with me.”
“See? Drama already and all you did was fuck the bitch.”
I lifted my head and stopped walking, my hand flying out to Nicky’s chest. “Don’t let me hear you call her that again.”
His hands flew up in apology, but the look on his face accused me of what I already knew. I was fucked. Seriously fucking fucked.
“Who the fuck is going to tell Kit? She is going to go bat-shit crazy. You should be scared. I know I am.”
We stood in front of the tunnel leading to the changing rooms, me and him the only two out here. “There’s nothing to tell Kit.”
“So you’re going to let this lie?” Even the tone of his voice was inundated with doubt.
“I don’t think I can.”
“You want my opinion?”
“No.”
“It’s a bad move. You’re thinking with your dick.”
“But that’s just it,” I said. “I’m not.”
Angel outright shut me down in Sociology and I gave her the space she wanted to absorb how much of a fucking jerk I had acted with her. It was the reaction I needed to stop me from wanting to take more. And what did I want? The bet came first, but when I’d finally got her in my bed, which I never fucking did—my bed was my bed and I never fucked around in it—she was mine. I didn’t ever want anyone else to touch her the way she let me. I was both sickened and relieved when she said she was a virgin. Sickened because she’d given it up over a stupid bet she had no clue about, and relieved that no one else had put their dick where I had. Especially Jordan, who I was now no better than. In reality, I was worse. Much fucking worse.
At lunch, I sent her a text telling her I needed to talk. She never replied. I sent two more and then gave up in partial acceptance of the shit I had created for myself.
At four-thirty, just as I was on my way to see Coach, my phone went off. I grabbed it from my pocket, fully expecting Angel’s name to be there on the screen.
It was Kristina. I debated cancelling the call, then answered at the last second before it went to voicemail. “Julian,” she whimpered into the phone, choking on tears.
I was moving in the opposite direction to where the Range Rover was parked without having to think about it. “What’s happened?” I asked, breaking speed into a jog. “Where are you?”
“Home.” I could hardly hear her through the crying. “I’m bleeding, Julian. And I’m in so much pain.”
Fuck. “Hang on, Kristina, I’m coming.” I raced to the car, threw myself behind the wheel and dialed 911, tearing out of the parking lot so fast my tires squealed over the asphalt.
“911 dispatch. What’s your emergency?”
“An ambulance. I need an ambulance. My friend, she’s pregnant and she’s bleeding.”
“Okay, sir. How far along in the pregnancy?”
My mind went blank trying to think and not crash. “Uh, three or four months.”
“Are you with her now?”
“No, I’m driving to get to her, but she needs an ambulance now. She’s in pain and she’s alone.”
“What’s the address?”
“631 Madison, Dorchester.”
“Sir, I’ll dispatch emergency services immediately.”
I hung up and broke every speed limit to get home. I pulled up at the curb before the ambulance. I left the engine running and raced up the stairs to her apartment. The door was unlocked and I let myself in.
“Kristina!”
She was in the bathroom, curled up on the mat, a pool of her own blood seeping into the mink threads. “Ah, Jesus.” I crouched down next to her. Her face was streaked with tears, her arm wrapped protectively round her stomach. Puffy eyes blinked up at me.
“I’m losing my baby.”
“No, you don’t know that. I called 911, they’ll be here any minute.”
I smoothed her straight, damp hair from her face, the tangles sticking to my fingers. She grabbed my hand, her crying muted to a lifeless moaning. “I’m losing it, I know I am. Help me, Julian.” If she said help me one more time I was going to lose my shit. I couldn’t help her, I was useless, here with pep-talks that were achieving fuck-all. “Aahh!” she cried out in pain, her head dropping to the floor.
I heard sirens. They were getting nearer. Then there were footsteps pounding into the hallway and a rush of movement behind me at the doorway. “I’m going to need you to step aside.”
I moved out of the way for the paramedics to get in.
“Julian!”
“I’ll follow you to the hospital.”
I stayed in the apartment, so far on the edge of the couch I’d fall off if anyone so much as blew on me, and waited while they got Kristina out and into the ambulance. I watched it leave as people stood out on the street to see the commotion, and then I got in the car and followed behind them the whole way.
>
<>
I sat in the ER waiting room next to Taj, whose hands were empty for once of his PSP. I was hunched over my knees with my hands clasped together. I titled my head sideways until Taj looked up at me, his expression somber. She’s going to be fine, I signed. I took a few dollar bills from my wallet. Go get a drink and some candy.
He took the money and got up, the effort coming across harder than it actually was. I slumped back in the chair, wiping my hands down my sweatpants. I was sick of sitting here. I’d been here over an hour and still no news. I sat up when my mom appeared at the end of the sterile corridor, her arms around her chest and her eyes red.
Shit.
I looked at her.
Tell me it’s good news.
She shook her head, a finger reaching under her eye to catch a loose tear. I stood and went to meet her. “Can I see her?”
“Yes. She’s asking for you.”
Taj came over, a can of Dr. Pepper in one hand and a Snickers in the other. Is the baby gone?
Mom nodded. I’ll take you home, she signed, her arm reaching for Taj.
I want to say goodbye. To the baby.
“I’ll take him in,” I said. “You go. I’ll bring him back with me. We won’t be long. Her mom and dad are on the way from her Aunt Rita’s. They shouldn’t be that far now. I called them as soon I got here.”
“Okay.”
She left and we made the dreaded walk to Kristina’s room. I approached the door, pushing it open slowly, putting my head in first. She was lying on the bed, the sheets to her waist and her head facing the other way, staring at the wall. We went in, Taj lingering behind me. “I’d ask how you’re feeling, but I think I already got a pretty good idea.”
She stayed facing the other way, her hair a black fan on the spotlessly white hospital pillows. “I loved it, Julian. And God just took it away. Just like that…” She smiled, a tear running down her cheek. “Gone, like it was never there. Never a part of me.”
Falling for Seven Page 26
