by Wilde, Ora
“Darwin, these are used!” I shouted yet again. “These are trash! Why didn’t you just throw them in the bin?”
“Sentimental value?” His attempt at wit didn’t get rid of his itchiness. In fact, he started to scratch even more violently than before.
Carefully, my fingers rummaged through what seemed like a pile of used rubber. When I found the baby powder, I immediately seized it and went back to where Darwin was. I applied some talc on his skin and spread it all over his body with my hands.
“Fuck!” he uttered. “This is why I hated moving here. Boston’s so much better than this shithole.”
I kept rubbing the powder on his chest, his shoulders, his arms and his back. I didn’t bother to reply to his complaints. My mind was thinking about something else.
The condoms.
He’d been in Oakland for just three days... three freaking days! How come he had like a dozen used rubbers in the drawer? Who was he fucking?
Rage engulfed me when I realized that there could only be one possible suspect...
Chelsea Summers.
After minutes of rubbing, Darwin’s upper body looked like it was draped in white paint. At least he wasn’t scratching anymore. The rashes have seemed to have subsided as well.
“That feels so much better,” he said as he sat on the side of his bed. I positioned myself behind him as I continued to apply baby powder on his back.
“Good,” I aridly answered.
“Uncivil all of a sudden, huh?” he commented with a grin.
“Uncivil? If I was uncivil, I wouldn’t be helping you out with your skin problem.”
“In denial, too,” he persisted. “That time of the month, eh?” He started to chuckle.
I stopped massaging his back and pushed him strong enough to make him fall off his bed.
“Hey!” he cried out. “What’s that all about?”
I threw the can of baby powder towards his chest. He caught it before it could hit him.
“There!” I screamed. “I’m sure you can carry on by yourself!”
I stood up and started to walk out of his room. He grabbed my arm and tugged it... just strong enough to gently yank my body and turn it towards him.
“Is this about those condoms?” he asked, smiling. I was close enough to smell him, to feel the warmth from his body, to see his day-old stubbles sinking on his dimple.
His dimple.
Damn that cute little thing!
I jerked my arm off his grasp and darted out of his room. I slammed his door just to let him know how upset I was. I hurried towards my own bedroom and locked myself in. I rested my body against the wall adjacent to the door.
I was breathing heavily.
I took a few seconds to calm down, to process what just happened. Why was I mad at him? Why was I perturbed over a handful - okay, more than a handful - of used condoms? Why do I hate Chelsea Summers all of a sudden? Why is my heart racing so fast?
My questions faded when I remembered the robustness of his body as my hand traversed every inch of his torso... the rigidity of his muscles, the sturdiness of his chest, the rugged toughness of his shoulders...
The bristles of hair on his head that tickled me as my fingers caressed his crown...
The tattoos on his left arm that made his persona even more mystifying...
His deep blue eyes sheltered by his thick and angular eyebrows that gave him a look of grit and resilience...
His lips that seemed so lavishly tender for anyone who’d be fortunate enough to kiss them...
The manliness of his presence...
His dimple that belied them all...
I was rattled off my musings when I realized that my fingers have drifted down my body and into my jeans, reaching for my womanhood. I pulled out my hand and quickly scurried towards the bed, covering myself completely with my blanket.
I spent the rest of the night wallowing in guilt and confusion.
I woke up late the following morning. It wasn’t the first time that it happened. But it was the first time when I didn’t panic about it. I was simply too sleepy to care. I hardly had any sleep the night before, for reasons I forgot that morning. All that stuck in my head was that I was bewildered about something and I felt bad about how I reacted to it.
I grabbed my towel and went straight to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and took off my pajamas. As the warm water struck my body, most of the sleepiness wore off. I began to remember...
About Darwin...
About his condoms...
About Chelsea Summers...
About his body...
As the liquid soap spread all over me, making my skin slippery to the touch, I started to think about how my own body reacted to his. I was at the verge of touching myself, something that I never did before. It’s not that I haven’t masturbated my whole life... it was just the first time when touching myself felt so bad... because I was thinking about someone who I shouldn’t be coveting.
But I felt really different that morning. As I caressed my body to scatter out the liquid soap, I was surprised to discover how sensitive I was to my own touch. As my hands ran through my breasts, my nipples immediately hardened and a tingling sensation rushed through my system. As my hand journeyed further south, I felt a certain kind of dampness that was very different and distinguishable from the water and the soap. It was distinctively tepid and unyieldingly smooth. I was wet.
My fingers lingered in that area, an act that caused much internal debate last night. As my digits stroked the line between my legs, I felt an inexplicable kind of thrill, one that was quick to consume my soul and make me lose control over the things I should’ve been wary about. It felt good... really, really good.
So I continued to brush my fingers against my slit, and I started to moan.
Then the door opened.
Fuck!
I was too sleepy that I forgot to lock it!
Darwin went inside, rubbing his eyes to rid himself of his own drowsiness. He was wearing nothing but a towel that covered the lower part of his body.
I immediately grabbed the shower curtain and covered myself.
When Darwin’s eyes opened, he was shocked... he was just as surprised as I was, it seemed.
“Oops, I’m so sorry,” he was quick to apologize.
I wasn’t able to say anything. My face was a picture of agony and shame.
He hurriedly went out and closed the door, only to open it once again. He pressed the lock from the inside and shut it once more.
I bit my lip in embarrassment about what just transpired. What did he see, exactly? Did he see me before I was able to cover myself with the shower curtain? Did he spot me completely naked? Did he catch me touching myself?
Did he like what he saw?
I swiftly finished my bath, foregoing my usual routines just to get out of the shower as soon as possible. I wanted to get dressed instantly. I wanted to bury myself with other concerns to forget about the indignity that befell me.
Garbed in my bathrobe, I went out of the bathroom. I was taken aback when I saw Darwin waiting in the hallway, calm and collected, cool as he always has been. He was resting his back against the wall, still clothed with a mere towel.
“That was fast,” he said with a smirk.
I tried to ignore him. I walked past him in rapid steps.
“Hey Betty,” he called, just before I could enter my bedroom.
“What?” I asked irately as I turned to face him.
“I didn’t see your tits but I saw the side of your hips,” he said, still grinning. “They tell me that you really do have a great ass.”
I rolled my eyes and proceeded inside. I shut the door and I didn’t forget to lock it that time around. I sat at the side of my bed, wanting to whack my head for the humiliating experience I had to endure... something which could’ve been avoided if I was just a little more careful.
As I was inundated by mortification, however, one thought made me pause and smile.
It was the first time that he called me Betty.
That morning, class started rather uneventfully.
So abnormally uneventful, in fact, that I began to worry. Was it a calm before an impending storm? I crossed my fingers and prayed it wasn’t.
Darwin ignored me, as usual. He didn’t even bother to look at my direction. I thought twice about giving him another note, given the unfortunate events the previous day. I was hoping he’d just look at me, even for a few seconds, even just to say hi. But he didn’t, and I was left to wonder if what he saw in the bathroom has created a wall of awkwardness between us.
Chelsea Summers, on the other hand, who was sitting two rows behind Darwin, was able to win his attention a few times. Once, when she borrowed his pen. Of course, Darwin isn’t the type who’d carry one... even in school. He just smiled at her and said sorry. Another, when she excused herself to go to the restroom and she passed by Darwin’s seat, brushing her pelvis on his arm. That made him look at her, and she returned his gaze with a knowing grin.
“Betty!” Maggie screamed from the other end of the hallway during the second period break. She quickly ran towards me and greeted me with a tight hug.
“What’s up, Maggie?” I asked.
“I heard about what happened yesterday,” she said. “Your teacher got mad at you? That’s a first!”
“It was nothing,” I explained. “She just caught me laughing.”
“Why were you laughing?” she questioned suspiciously.
“Uhm... just a passing thought that I found funny,” I reasoned out. “Besides, her attention turned to Darwin and she totally forgot about me.”
“Darwin? Why? What did he do?”
“He, uhm... he acted weird. Effects of his medication. He kinda disrespected Ms. Tesmacher. She asked me to accompany him to the clinic until the effects wore off.”
“Medication?” Maggie asked as she pondered. “He’s not into drugs or anything, right?”
“No, no, nothing of that sort,” I quickly replied.
“You know, maybe he just acted like that to save your butt,” she continued.
She was right, of course, but I didn’t want to verify her idea because, knowing her, she’d just start this nasty rumor about me and my stepbrother.
“Nah... it was really the meds,” I uttered, feigning nonchalance.
Maggie just shrugged and changed the topic.
“You know, I bumped into Emerson earlier,” she started. “He was asking about you.”
“What about me?”
“He was asking if you’d go to his party.”
“Yeah, I will.”
“Really? You managed to convince your mom to allow you to go?”
“Yup!”
“I find that hard to believe. What’s the catch?”
“Darwin should come with me.”
“Aha! So you took Emerson’s advice... just to go to Emerson’s party! I see a pattern here...”
“Oh, shut up Maggie! Emerson’s super nice and fairly good looking. I’m sure a lot of girls are going gaga over him, and he has a lot to choose from. He wouldn’t even give a spectacle-wearing Plain Jane a second look.”
“Uhm... Betty? You do realize that with the way you’re talking, you’re basically admitting that you like Emerson and you want him to actually see you as a potential girlfriend, right?”
Normally, I would’ve been infuriated by such an insinuation. But my mind was still reeling from the shame and the guilt from the night before as well as the humiliation I suffered this morning... and from a strange sense of fear... fear that someone might find out about my conflicted feelings for Darwin.
So I pinched Maggie’s arm and pretended to giggle. I acted as though I was blushing, even if I was not. She just snickered with me and placed her finger on her lip, a silent promise that it would be kept a secret between us.
I went back to my classroom. Darwin was already there, and so was Chelsea Summers. As Mr. Nathanielz discussed the practical usage of Calculus, my eyes wandered - surreptitiously - towards my stepbrother. He was restless. He was shaking his legs as if he wanted to be somewhere else, doing something that actually interested him.
Then Chelsea Summers passed him a note, and a smile formed on his face.
She passed him a note... the same thing I did yesterday!
Darwin opened the note and read it. His smile got wider as he turned around to look at Chelsea Summers who was also beaming. I tilted my head to get a good look at her. She stared back at me and the tint of her smile changed from affectionate to mocking.
I turned my head back towards the blackboard as I tried my best to listen to Mr. Nathanielz’s lecture. I tried. I really tried. But the words were just grazing my mind, flittering away before I could comprehend them. My head was still filled with rage and bafflement and want. My heart was beating rapidly with fury and aching.
From the corner of my eye, I tried to steal a glance of Darwin once again. He was still smiling, and when he tipped his face to give Chelsea Summers a look, I saw the dimple on his right cheek.
That dimple.
My dimple!
The rest of the day proved very agonizing and tiresome. I had to try very hard not to look at Darwin nor at Chelsea Summers. When the final bell rang to signal the end of school, I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, I said to myself, this stupid day was over!
As I started to walk home, I heard the revving sound of a motorbike behind me. I quickly bounced to the sidewalk for fear that someone might run me over. To my surprise, the motorbike stopped on the road beside me. He was wearing a helmet but there was no mistaking who he was. It was Darwin.
“Ride with me,” he commanded, firmly.
“What? Why should I?” I asked.
“Ride with me,” he ordered again, his voice was even sterner than before.
I wanted to draw it out, to express to him how angry I was for reasons I myself couldn’t even fathom, to tell him that I’m not someone who anyone can easily boss around.
But somehow, I found myself hopping onto his bike. He removed his helmet and placed it on my head, inadvertently squeezing my glasses as a result. I took them off and placed them in my bag, then I wrapped my arms around his waist. He revved up the engine one more time before driving off towards Milton Avenue...
Which was at the opposite direction of the way to our house!
“Where are we going?” I asked him, shouting, as the wind and the noise of the engine drowned my voice.
“Here and there,” Darwin answered as he increased the speed of his bike.
That ‘here and there’ was revealed to be a lap, or rather a series of laps, around the outskirts of the campus. We did nothing but circle the road around school, honking at pedestrians, twice beating the same red light, and overtaking Principal Daley’s station wagon thrice. Principal Daley was such a slow driver that he was still in the same street on our third lap.
We just went around in circles. He never spoke a word. His eyes were focused on the road. Even during turns that seemed careless... even when he roughly accelerated his bike from time to time... even when students who saw us screamed to greet him... his eyes remained fixated on the road.
What was bothering him, I wondered?
I think it was on the eighth lap when I finally decided to break the silence between us.
“Will we just keep doing this until evening?”
He didn’t answer. He kept on driving.
“Do you want to talk about something?”
He didn’t reply. He didn’t even show the slightest sign that he would answer my questions.
Then I remembered what my mom and Uncle Charlie shared yesterday... about a tragedy that Darwin had to endure. They didn’t want to talk about it, at least not at that time, but I did have an idea that it was about his mother. Before she even married Uncle Charlie, my mom told me that he was a widower, though I never really inquired about the circumstances of his previous wife’s death.
“
How did your mom die?” I asked him when his bike slowed down to allow some pedestrians to cross the street.
Still, he didn’t answer.
But something about him changed at that exact moment. My arms were still wrapped around him and I felt his body stiffen. I saw his grip on the throttle tighten. I saw him bend forward, lowering his head and keeping it farther away from me. Then he revved up the engine once more and we sped off... faster than before... faster and faster with every passing second.
