by Lisa Loomis
He kissed me again before I could get anything else out. I kissed him back. I could taste the beer and the marijuana. I didn’t want to kiss him, and I wanted to kiss him. Stop. I wanted him to stop and not to stop. Why, why, why kept flashing in my head. No mixed messages; we agreed. His tongue was deep in my mouth, and his hands were roaming over my body. When he stopped kissing me, my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. I could make out his face, and I knew he could read my thoughts, confusion, anger, desire all wrapped into one. He put his finger to my lips.
“Kid, go with me,” he whispered.
I caught my breath as he led me to the bed and pulled me down on top of him. He rolled me to one side and started to kiss me again. I didn’t have much experience with kissing. Even with him, it had been limited. He seemed so hungry for me, and I had fantasized about this more than once. My body instinctively pressed into his, and I could feel the heat between us. I slid my hands into his hair, letting it slip slowly through my fingers. I ran my fingers down his face, down his neck. It was wrong. It wasn’t what we agreed on. His kisses kept pushing my thoughts down, drowning them out. I wanted him.
Mathew put his hand up my shirt and undid my bra. His hands felt smooth and warm on my skin. I pulled his T-shirt up and felt his chest. I helped him pull my shirt off over my head and pressed my breasts into him. I could feel both our hearts beating rapidly. He pulled away, cupping my breast, gently running the tip of his finger around my nipple. My body no longer seemed my own, but under his control. He put his mouth on my nipple and sucked gently. My body shook with longing. I could feel how hard he was through his jeans. I only knew about sex; he’d had it.
Run, Morgan screamed in my head. I never stood up. Never said no as I would wish I had later. He pulled me into him with his kisses as we explored each other’s bodies with our hands. When he tried to unbutton my jeans, I pulled his hand up. I wasn’t ready for it to go that far, not here. He pressed his hardness into me as he kissed me. Someone tried the door from inside the house. Finding it locked, they seemed to move back down the hall. I grabbed my shirt and sat up.
“It’s okay,” he said, as he rolled flat on his back. “I don’t think they have a key.”
I found my bra and put my shirt back on; the possibility of an interruption bringing me to my senses. He hadn’t moved. He lay with his shirt off, arms behind his head, jeans riding low on his hips, his hair partially covering his face. I leaned back over him, pushing his hair back. He stared at me, and neither of us spoke. His eyes searched mine, needing me to make it all right.
“Mathew, what was that?” I whispered into his ear.
He was not quick to answer, his eyes pleading. Pleading for what? Forgiveness, to love him, to just be? I didn’t know.
“I felt like being with you,” he finally said.
Trying to guess would be impossible. He had broken the rules, and I’d helped him. Sorry I heard him say from that conversation. No sorry I’d answered. No sorry is right I thought as I got off the bed and adjusted my clothing. I stood in the dark and watched him as he sat up on the edge of the bed and then got up and put his shirt back on.
“Morgan?” he asked tentatively.
I went to him and kissed him softly on the lips to stop him from talking. He kissed me back. When I pulled away, I put my finger to his lips. It had happened.
“No sorry,” I whispered.
He unlocked the door into the house, and we quickly exited through the slider to the backyard. Keri saw us come out of the house.
“Morgan, where have you been?” Keri asked, looking crossly at Mathew. “I need to go.”
She looked back to me quickly.
“If Bruce doesn’t get me home in time, I’m toast.”
I looked at Mathew, and he smiled. His look tore at my heart, peeling away some of the precious scab I’d built up.
“It was great to see you here tonight. Really great,” he said.
“You too,” I said. “Thanks for spending such quality time with me.”
He tilted his head and gave me a sexy grin and I knew he could tell I was giving him a little shit with that comment. I walked out of the party like nothing happened, like my heart hadn’t just done a back flip.
“Where were you and Mathew?” Keri asked once we got in the car. “I saw you on the swing together, and then you were gone. We couldn’t find you two anywhere.”
She’d turned sideways in the front seat so she could see me.
“We were talking,” I said.
It came out of my mouth a little to dreamy, even for my liking.
“Are you all right? You seem out of sorts. Did Mathew say something to hurt you?”
Keri knew enough about Mathew to question.
“Damn, woman, give her a minute to answer,” Bruce piped up.
“Yes, I’m all right, and no he didn’t say anything that hurt me,” I answered.
“You and Mathew an item?” Bruce asked.
“No, just friends,” I answered, distracted.
“Seemed like more than that to me,” he responded.
“Leave her alone,” Keri said, flipping herself around to face forward.
They dropped me off and I went upstairs and brushed my teeth and then crawled into bed. My mom must have been waiting up because she came to my room.
“Did you have a good time?” she asked from my doorway.
“Yeah, but I’m tired,” I answered.
“See you in the morning,” she said, closing my door.
As tired as I felt, I couldn’t fall asleep. If I had let him, would he really have gone all the way? He’d told me about his sexual conquests—many times to my dismay. I was pretty sure he knew I was still a virgin. Was that what he was after? No, he would have tried before now. What happened was important to me. I wanted it to be important to him.
The reality was it probably would get chalked up to another moment, and I shouldn’t think otherwise. I couldn’t think otherwise for my emotional well-being. Hadn’t I come to terms with how he defined us as friends? I would be lying to myself if I didn’t admit I wanted more from him. I wanted him. It was simple.
The lines I had drawn, for my own protection, he had just thrown out the window.
Chapter 16
I wouldn’t be alone again with Mathew for weeks. A good thing I kept telling myself. I saw him at school, and he acted like nothing was different. It didn’t surprise me, what did was I wasn’t exceptionally hurt. There wasn’t a logic for Mathew for me. I was smart about a lot of things, but not him.
My dad was traveling and my mom was going over to see Ann and asked if I wanted to go. I did. It was a weeknight, so I was pretty sure Mathew would be home.
“Mathew’s in his room,” Ann said when mom and I walked into the kitchen. “Patty, a glass of wine?”
“Sure,” my mom answered as I headed down the hall.
His door was closed. I knocked.
“Come in,” he said from inside.
My stomach tightened when I heard his voice. I opened the door slowly. He was seated at his desk with his back to me.
“It’s me,” I said.
He turned around, surprised. He smiled as if he was happy to see me and I smiled back.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“My mom came by to see your mom. They’re having a drink, or six,” I teased.
He laughed.
“Six is more like it. Your dad on a trip?”
“Yeah. She gets lonely,” I answered.
“Gives them both an excuse to get together to drink and smoke. I hate the smoking,” he said.
He patted the corner of the bed for me to sit. When I sat on the edge of his bed, he swung around in his chair.
“You’re looking good, kid.”
I could feel myself blush. I pictured him laying in the dark on Kevin’s bed. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I didn’t.
“Why do you call me kid?”
“Morgan, it’s not an insult. It’s a term of a
ffection, or whatever you want to call it. Does it bug you?”
“It’s okay, I guess.”
He closed his textbook, turned the desk chair around, and reached for his guitar.
“Don’t just pick. Play something for me,” I asked.
He started with the Eagles' “I Can’t Tell You Why”.
“Look at us, baby, up all night, tearing our love apart,” he sang, “aren’t we the same two people who live through years in the dark?”
I listened as he played through the rest of the song. I was amazed at the words, and how they sort of related to us. I wondered if he’d chosen it for that very reason. He played another song by Styx and then one by Queen. Then he set the guitar down. I waited for him to bring up something about the party. He didn’t. Instead, we talked very generally, almost cautiously.
“Mathew?” I asked when I couldn’t stand our tiptoeing around it anymore.
“Morgan, don’t,” he said softly, “don't.”
“Don’t what?” I asked.
He didn’t answer and his silence made me angry.
“Pretend to understand it?” I started. “Pretend it didn’t happen? Pretend you lived up to our agreement? I don’t want to pretend, Mathew.”
He pushed his hair back from his face with his hands.
“It happened. We were there. It was right. If it was just for that moment, so be it. I can live with that more than acting like it didn’t happen at all,” I said caustically.
He let my angry words hang for a moment.
“That was a mouth full,” he said.
I stared at him and waited, my heart beating rapidly. I wasn’t sure he was going to answer any of my questions. He grinned at me as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“You’re a great kisser, and you have really nice tits,” he finally said.
I grabbed his pillow and whacked him in the head. He puts his arms up in mock defense.
“You are such a fucker,” I said after I hit him several times. “You promised.”
I sat back down on his bed with the pillow in my lap.
“I lied.”
“No shit,” I said, feeling defeated.
I realized it was pointless to make any rules with him. If he wanted to break them, I knew I would let him. A lot of girls didn’t know how to handle boys, I wasn’t any different. And Mathew was a whole different ballgame, because I couldn’t predict what he would do. He could make me love him and hate him and everything in between. It made me sad to confirm it was just a fleeting moment for him. Within a month, Mathew would have a new girlfriend.
“Say that again, Morgan, 'cause I’m not sure I heard you right,” Gayle said when I told her about the party incident.
I had softened it down to a couple kisses.
“You heard it right,” I said.
“You must be crazy, girl. If you let things like that happen, it will happen again, I promise. You have to tell him no.”
“Gayle, I know what I should have done. It’s difficult with Mathew.”
I knew it wasn’t rationale thinking and Gayle knew I knew it.
“Morgan, you are a smart girl. However, you are stupid when it comes to Mathew; stop being stupid.”
Summer was rapidly approaching and this summer included graduating from eighth grade. Everyone I knew was excited about getting out of junior high and moving onto high school. I had the week at the beach coming up in July to look forward to as well. When I had time with Mathew, most of the time at his house, we talked about all of this. He would also be starting on the high school football team next year, and his summer would be busy with practice. I still took every opportunity to see him and just be with him.
When we were alone together, most of the time he was the Mathew I liked. There was a sensitive side to him that he didn’t let a lot of people see. When he did, it was usually in the songs he wrote. He let me see that side. At school, I kept my distance. Maybe it was self-preservation, or maybe it was me picking the side of Mathew I liked and ignoring the part I didn’t. He was very popular and spent most of his free time with his current girlfriend or the jock crowd. Neither of which I wanted to be around.
Mathew and I were very open with each other. I don’t think there were a lot of secrets we hadn’t shared. In our chats, the sexual sparring never stopped. He usually started it, but I was always game to jump in. It was exciting, I couldn’t help myself. Although I couldn’t be physical with him, it felt like we had a connection. My fantasies of having sex with him overwhelmed me at times.
Eighth grade Graduation Day was finally here, and it was a beautiful June day. I spotted Mathew in the crowd, his blond hair bright in the afternoon sun. My family was invited to the O’Conner’s for a get-together this weekend, and I was hoping Mathew would be there.
“Morgan,” I heard Mathew’s voice and turned around to see him walk toward me.
“Finally graduation. You happy to be getting out of here?” he asked.
“I’m happy about summer being here, excited for high school.”
“Me too,” he said. “Are you coming with your folks Saturday?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Good, see you Saturday. Kevin’s going to be there.”
He smiled at me his eyes shining.
“So?” I questioned.
The corners of Mathew's smile turned up mischievously. He was up to something.
“So, he thinks you’re cute,” he said.
“Oh, that’s encouraging,” I said, frowning at him.
Mathew grinned and moved off into the crowd, his hair looking golden under his cap, the blue gown swirling around him. I thought we all looked goofy in our cap and gowns, everyone but Mathew, he looked lovely. I wondered why Mathew had said that about Kevin. Kevin had been around me since grade school. He was good-looking, but sort of immature in my book. I hadn’t thought much about him and certainly not in any romantic way.
As I wondered what Mathew’s motive was, the ceremony began, and we all funneled onto the bleachers. The principal started with speeches of things to come, the adventure of high school, moving on and growing up.
It hit home with me—it was time to move on.
Saturday morning I helped my mom clean the house and then went over to Gayle's to kill time before the O'Conner’s party. I went through their back door unannounced as usual. Her mom was doing paperwork at the kitchen table.
“Hi, Morgan, Gayle’s out back.”
“Thanks,” I said as I proceeded through the family room and out the slider to the patio where Gayle was reading out in the sun.
“Hey,” she said as I came outside.
“I thought you had a party at Mathew’s?” she asked.
“Not till four,” I answered.
“What time is it?”
“A little after two.”
“Who’s gonna be there?” she asked.
“Some of my parents' friends, their kids, and I think Mathew is having some school friends too. He told me at graduation that Kevin was going to be there.”
“So?”
I pointed at her and wrinkled my nose.
“That’s exactly what I said.”
“What did he say?” Gayle asked.
“He said he thinks I’m cute.”
“Kevin does or Mathew?” she asked, tilting her head and giving me a smirk.
“Kevin,” I answered.
“Whatever,” she said, disgusted. “Mathew trying to set you up is a joke.”
“Maybe he’s trying to get rid of me.”
“Doubt that one too,” she said. “Who else would put up with his ass?”
“Oh, stop.”
I pulled one of the patio chairs into the sun next to her and sat down.
“What are you wearing?” she asked.
“A pair of white shorts and that light blue halter top I got last week when we went shopping.”
She raised her eyebrow.
“Hmm, the one that makes your boobs look
big. Good choice. Maybe you’ll make Mathew drool.”
“Shut up,” I said.
“Maybe Kevin too,” she laughed. “Pool party?”
“I guess a sort of pool-barbeque deal. We were told to bring our suits.
“Should be fun,” Gayle said.
“Yeah,” I said, wondering if it would be fun, how Mathew would behave.
I headed home shortly after three to get ready. I hoped Gayle was right; I wanted them both to drool, and I went all out. I used the curling iron on my hair to straighten it out a bit and put my makeup on heavier than normal. I inspected myself in the full-length mirror. I definitely looked good: no bra, halter-top cut low in the front. I finished my outfit off with white strappy sandals. I hoped beyond hope that Mathew wasn't having his girlfriend over. None of his girlfriends were very fond of me and I had a suspicion he liked it that way. Keeping his worlds separate.
Chapter 17
When we got to the O’Conner’s, my mom walked in without knocking, which was pretty normal. The majority of the people were out back around the pool. We put our suits and towels in the guest bedroom off the hall, then Pat and I followed our parents out to the deck.
“Patty, Steve,” Ann flagged my parents and headed toward them. “Ready for a cocktail?”
“What you got?” I heard my dad ask while I scanned the group for Mathew.
I found him at the far end of the pool, sitting with Kevin and Randy. Randy of “oh I kissed another girl”. I made my way toward them. When I came out from the crowd at that end of the pool, Mathew saw me and bumped Kevin’s arm. Kevin looked at him and then followed his gaze. I felt self-conscious as I continued toward them. I could feel butterflies in my stomach. Mathew threw back his hair and sank lower in his chair, stretching his legs in front of him. A lazy sort of suggestive stance I was used to, which always got to me, made between my legs tingle. He checked me out as I approached them.
“Hey, Morgan, what’s up?” he asked, giving me a sexy look that threw me.
“Nothing much,” I said, trying to understand his look.
“Sit,” he said, reaching out and pulling the chair next to him closer to the group.
