by Trudy Stiles
“Are you okay?” I ask, reaching up kissing him gently on the lips.
“I can’t move,” he says, embarrassed.
“Why?”
“Because it will be over if I do, and I don’t want this to ever end. My God, Noelle, you feel so fucking good.” His hips stiffen above mine, the dull ache back in my ribs. But I don’t care about any of that. I don’t want this to end either.
I begin to rock back and forth underneath him, feeling him swell even more inside of me. The burning sensation is gone, and I’m fully relaxed. “Please move, I need you to move,” I pant. My belly button tingles with a sensation I’ve never felt before. “Oh my God, move!” I shout and then cover my mouth, slightly embarrassed.
He doesn’t wait for me to say it another time, and he begins to move his hips. His mouth drops open as his eyes squeeze shut. Soft grunts escape his lips, his hips swirling and swirling and swirling.
Cries fly from my lips as our hips move together, the tingling sensation building and building. “Heath!” I don’t know what’s happening, this is not a feeling I’ve ever had down there before. “Don’t. Stop. Please. Don’t. Stop!” I don’t even know what I’m saying. I think I mutter “fuck” a few times as our bodies begin smacking together. Building toward a desperate release. I lock my legs around his back, holding his body against mine in the most perfect position. He circles his hips one last time and then pushes into me deeper, with all of his strength, sending us both into a passion we’ve never felt before. Our bodies tense against each other as he twitches inside of me.
“Oh my God,” he exhales and practically collapses. “Oh my God,” he says again. “That was–are you–God–are you okay?”
He pulls out of me and slides next to me, his eyes searching my face. “Please tell me you’re okay. I didn’t mean to be so–forceful.”
I smile, a dull ache between my legs, feeling the void, wanting it back.
“It was perfect.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“I can’t even describe what it felt like. It was wonderful.”
He closes his eyes and kisses me softly. “I know exactly what it felt like. And it was mind-blowing.”
I nod, kissing him back. “I’ve never felt anything like this in my life, Heath. Never. Thank you for giving this to me.”
“I’d give you anything. Anything at all. I love you, Noelle.”
“I love you,” I respond, curling into his side. He slowly eases out of bed, making his way to my bathroom. We’ve had to clean ourselves up before, but this time there’s less to worry about since he came inside of me. He returns with a warm washcloth that he slowly, carefully places between my legs.
“Does that hurt?” he asks.
“No.”
He finishes and I see him dab a few spots on the sheets. I’m suddenly embarrassed that he’s cleaning up the blood that must have come from me.
“Is there a lot of blood?” This bed has been stained by my blood before, but not the kind that he’s looking at. I’ve bled from the wounds that Tonya has caused.
“Only a few drops. I can barely see them.” He disappears again, and I hear my hamper open and close.
He comes back into my room a few seconds later and slides next to me. “I don’t want to go home,” he whispers into my hair. “I want to stay here and hold you all night in my arms.”
I wish. His parents will be expecting him home. He can’t spend the night.
“Hold me until I fall asleep?”
“That I can do,” he says, pulling me tight against his body, our legs entwining.
“Sleep tight,” he whispers. “Know that I’ll love you forever.”
The moon is shining brightly, protectively, through my window as I fall asleep with a smile on my face.
And I dream of fireflies becoming fairies.
Heath
Past
Age 17
“HEATH, CAN YOU COME down here and help your father?” my mother yells up the stairs. I quickly pat myself dry, running the towel through my hair before I pull on my clothes.
It’s July Fourth, and our backyard has become a flurry of activity. Tents, tables, chairs, and caterers running around, trying to get everything set for our annual party. Family and friends have been coming to this for as long as I can remember. It’s an annual tradition, and I’m thrilled that Noelle is going to spend the entire day with us, without interference from her wicked stepmother.
“Coming!” I call, jogging down the stairs, practically colliding with one of the caterers.
“He’s out back, trying to set up the ping pong table, and he’s going to hurt himself,” my mom laughs. “I can’t imagine why he wants that outside anyway.”
“Beer pong, Mom. What do you think?”
“Your father doesn’t play beer pong, for heaven’s sake.”
I chuckle as I walk through the kitchen, out the back door, and down the stairs into the yard. My father is bent over a large table, trying to figure out how to unlatch it.
“Dad, I got it.” He looks up as I slide the table across the grass, giving us a little more room to work with. “See this here.” I point to a latch on the underside of the table. “You slide it like this and boom, you have a ping pong table.” The table opens up easily. “Grab that side so we can stand it up.”
Once it’s in place, he picks up the bag that contains paddles and balls. “What are those for?” I ask.
“Excuse me?” He looks at me like I’m crazy.
“I thought you were setting this up to play beer pong.”
“Absolutely not,” he declares. “Just like you have Wiffle ball tournaments with your friends, I have ping pong ones with mine.”
“You have friends?” I joke.
He tosses a paddle toward me and I catch it. “Let’s play. Unless you’re afraid?” He teases me and gets into a defensive ping pong stance.
I laugh out loud. “I’ll wipe the table with you, old man.”
He serves the first ball, and it goes whizzing past me. “Will you?” he chuckles as he produces another ball, seemingly out of thin air. We paddle back and forth for several minutes, each time, he smashes the ball. He’s swinging so fast and hard that I don’t even have a chance to return a single serve. My paddle flies in the air like I’m trying to swat a fly.
Within ten minutes, he’s won the game and I didn’t score a single point.
“You proved your point,” I admit, wiping sweat from my brow. “I’m going to need to shower again.”
An older woman, who’s dressed in a catering outfit, walks up to us and hands us each a bottle of ice cold water. “Thanks,” my dad and I say in unison.
“That was a freaking work out, Dad. No wonder you’re still in such good shape for someone your age.”
He swats me playfully on the back of my head. “Don’t be a smart ass,” he jests.
We walk to the patio, where a huge fire pit sits, and sink into the new outdoor couches. “How’s Noelle?” he asks.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I’m so worried about her, but I can’t say a word. I know that something is going on in that house next door, and it scares me. She begged me not to say anything to my father, so I don’t.
“She’s good,” I answer vaguely.
“Where is she going to college?” he asks.
“She just made up her mind last week. She’s going to Boston College.” She was undecided between there and Villanova. She chose Boston College because I’m going to Boston University’s School of Music.
He nods his head, realizing that we’re going to be close to each other. “Are you okay with that? Sharing a city with your girlfriend?”
Am I okay with it? I fucking love it. What the hell kind of question is that?
“Yeah. Sure,” I say, nonchalantly.
“You’re both young. It’s great that the two of you have been so close for so many years, but try to keep your options open. Try to give each other some space, room to grow as individuals
.”
His advice seems sound, but unrealistic to me. We can’t stand the moments we’re apart. Once we’re in the same city together, without her controlling stepmother holding her prisoner, we’ll be able to grow together.
“Has she been okay lately?” He drops the question like napalm in the air. My shoulders tense, I don’t want to answer him.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I just have the sense that something isn’t right over there. Her parents seem, unhappy.”
“Tonya’s not her mother,” I stress, repeating the mantra that Noelle says often.
“I’m aware of that. But she’s still a parent figure, no?”
“I wouldn’t call her that. She’s her stepmother. And I don’t think Noelle respects her enough to consider her a parent of any kind.” I stop when I realize I’ve said too much. My father’s line of questioning is now starting to zero in on a topic that I need to steer clear of. I don’t want Noelle to leave me. “What are you getting at?”
“Nothing, really. I know you care an awful lot for her. And so do your mother and I. It’s easy to see the sadness she carries, and I know Tonya isn’t the most popular person around, so I just assumed she had problems with her.”
Everything he says is spot on. My mother asks me almost daily if Noelle is going to join us for at least one meal a day. The only time she’s ever able to come is when Tonya is out of the house, unable to stop her from leaving. You don’t need to be too perceptive to notice.
“I don’t think they get along, but that’s pretty normal, right?” I ask.
“Honestly, not really,” he replies. “While second marriages can be hard on the children involved, you don’t see too many turn into the type of relationship Noelle seems to have with her stepmother.”
What can he see? How does he know?
“Whatever. I just think they’re like oil and water. It’s not a big deal.” I need to shut this conversation down before I say something that I’m going to regret.
“If you say so,” my father replies. “But, promise me something, okay?”
“Sure.”
“If you notice anything that bothers you, promise me you’ll say something?”
I swallow hard, nodding my head. “Sure, Dad,” I practically choke. “Don’t worry.”
His smile is tight, his keen eyes studying me. I’m guilty, and he knows it. I wear it like a criminal, and he can sniff out a crook with his eyes closed.
“When is everyone getting here?” I ask, changing the subject.
He looks down at his watch. “In about an hour.”
“Cool.” I start to jog away so I can get the Wiffle ball field ready for the mega tournament that’s going to happen tonight.
“Heath?” I stop dead in my tracks. Please don’t ask me anything else.
“Yeah, Dad?” I turn around to face him, pulse racing.
“If you love that girl, treat her right. And take care of her.”
“Yup!” I answer and take off for the back of our yard. He’s definitely on to something.
And knowing him, he’ll get to the bottom of it before I can warn Noelle.
“NOELLE, YOU’RE UP!” I call out, and she shifts in her seat. She looks up, nodding her head quickly. Haley has her cornered and they seem to be deep in conversation.
“I’m sitting out this game,” she responds as she brushes a wisp of hair away from her eyes. Haley glances over at me at the same time and then grabs Noelle’s hand. Weird.
“I guess you’re down a player,” Troy laughs. “Better for us!” He mocks me, knowing Noelle is one of the best players here.
“I’ll still crush you assholes,” I boast confidently, taking a few warm-up swings. I need to focus so I can wipe the field with them.
“You tell yourself that.”
Troy pitches to me and I miss. His laughter bellows but I ignore it as I see Noelle and Haley huddled even closer, whispers between them. What the hell are they talking about? I’ve never seen them this close to each other and my concern rises. Noelle routinely tries to avoid any contact with Haley.
“Are you even paying attention, dude?”
“Just throw the damn ball,” I grunt. This time, I make contact and the ball whizzes past Troy’s ear, causing him to fall to the ground. It lands in the grass between Dylan and Ethan. “That’s a double!” I call out and hand the bat to my only other teammate, Chris.
I look over and see Noelle still oblivious to the game. She’s nodding and smiling politely, Haley’s eyes wide and curious. Shit. I hope they’re not talking about the other night. My cheeks flush with embarrassment, wondering if Haley is getting all of the details of our private night together. The night I can’t stop thinking about. Noelle would never share anything like that. Especially with Haley. Right?
A bell rings from the deck, indicating food is being served. Chris drops the bat and joins the others in a sprint for food. I tentatively walk up to the girls and lightly tap Noelle’s foot with the toe of my sneaker. “Hey.”
She looks up, her smile radiant, perfect. She also looks relieved that I interrupted her conversation with Haley. “Hey, yourself,” she says, patting the seat next to her. “I saved you a spot.”
“I’m glad you came over here,” Haley interrupts. “I’m leaving for vacation next week, and I wanted to make sure I gave you this.” She pulls a box out from underneath the wicker couch.
“Happy Birthday, Heath.”
Noelle shifts uncomfortably next to me, placing her hand on my knee.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I respond. Why would Haley buy me a birthday present anyway? And give it to me in front of my girlfriend?
“It’s nothing, really.”
Haley places the box on my lap and instructs, “Open it.”
“Now?”
“Yes, of course now,” she insists.
I tear the wrapping paper from the box and flip the lid off, tissue paper packed inside. The girls shift in their respective seats as I pull the tissue paper out. Inside the box is a medium-sized picture collage, various photos scattered around. The majority of the pictures are group shots of our friends, most of whom are here today. The one in the center is a picture of me and Haley in third grade. Her arm is thrown over my shoulder, and we’re both smiling. The surroundings are familiar–it’s from when our families went to Ireland together.
“This is cool,” I say, awkwardly
Noelle is completely tense next to me. There’s not a single picture of her in the entire collage.
“I knew you’d love it!” Haley exclaims as Noelle clears her throat. “Where are you going to hang it? Should we go upstairs to your room right now and find a spot?”
“No. I don’t think so.” What the fuck is going on?
“Maybe later,” Haley says and jumps to her feet. “Great catching up with you, Noelle.”
She walks away, leaving both Noelle and I sitting, dumbfounded.
“What the hell?” I ask, shaking my head.
Noelle remains silent.
“Say something,” I implore.
She looks pensive, then says, “She obviously wanted to make a production out of giving you that collage.”
“It’s weird.”
“Well, she obviously had a lot of pictures of the two of you together,” Noelle says with a twinge of jealousy.
“Haley and I have known each other for a long time,” I admit. “And yes, our families have gone away together. But there’s nothing more between us than friendship. And these days, even that’s a stretch.” Haley isn’t the same girl I grew up with. We used to have fun together when our families would hang out, but now it’s just weird.
She places her legs over mine and leans against the back of the wicker couch. “Forget about it,” she shrugs. “Sorry I missed the game,” she apologizes, changing the subject.
“It’s okay. Chris and I were about to win, but then–food,” I chuckle and see the guys on the deck piling hot dogs and h
amburgers onto plates.
I lightly run my fingers along her shin, stopping at her ankle. “I was highly distracted, watching you and Haley talking over here. What were you talking about?”
She shakes her head. “I wasn’t talking about anything. She, however, was talking my ear off.”
“Oh?”
“She’s quite full of herself,” Noelle declares. “I tuned her out when she went on and on about the number of text messages she has from three different guys.”
“You didn’t tell her about the other night, did you?” I ask, worried.
She slowly shakes her head back and forth, surprise plastered on her face. “Oh my God. Never. Not that I even had a chance to get a word in.”
“Good.”
“Let’s eat before all of those bozos eat all of the food.” Noelle says, pulling me to my feet.
I throw my arm over her shoulder and kiss her cheek, letting my lips linger. “I love you,” I whisper against her skin.
“This is the best weekend ever,” she says.
We walk hand in hand to the deck where our friends are all seated at two large round tables near the buffet. We fill up our plates and join them.
FIREWORKS IN OUR NEIGHBORHOOD have been a spectacle since I was a kid. The Mason family, who live in the first house as you enter our street, sets off a fireworks display that would rival Macy’s any year. Between our annual barbecue and their party, our private cul-de-sac is usually lined with so many cars, we need to hire valets to keep everything organized. It’s obnoxious, but we love it.
Noelle starts buzzing with excitement. She and I have watched fireworks together for as long as she’s lived here. But for the first time in years, she doesn’t have to sneak out to watch them with me. Since her father and Tonya are away for the weekend, she’s free to do what she wants. I tense up thinking about when they get home and Tonya makes Noelle’s life miserable again. It’s been so hard keeping my mouth shut around her. The way she looks at Noelle would make anyone cringe. Hatred and contempt spew from her pores. I’ve suspected Tonya has been abusing Noelle for years, and I have to figure out a way to expose her for the horrible person that she really is, without losing Noelle in the process.
