Lies In Rewind
Page 16
“Shhhhh…sorry-y-y. Sara, don’t yell,” the owner of the hand mumbled.
I knew that voice. How could this be happening? How could the person that I just had a wet dream about be in my room in the middle of the goddamn night? Did I summon him to my room or was it part of my dream?
The first song that popped into my head was A-ha’s “Take On Me.” I recall thinking that if I lived to tell about this, I’d call Em first thing in the morning and tell her how Eddie’s hot friend from the club made a pass at me and asked me to make out with him by attacking me in my own room. I’d use that song for sure. That song would only make sense to Emily, because there wasn’t another fifteen year old on the planet that would know every song from the ‘80s like she and I did.
We had created our own language of lyrics. The words from the songs would do the talking for us. It was I who came up with that brilliant secret language to help me manage all my lies. I wouldn’t have to go into detail, which meant I wouldn’t have to remember too many particulars about the fabrications I’d feed Emily in regards to my nonexistent bullshit lifestyle.
“Please, don’t yell. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jeff whispered to me.
“Jeff, why are you in my room?” I asked as my eyes began to adjust to the darkness and saw him lying halfway on my bed with his arms resting dangerously close to my chest.
“I’m sleeping over, remember? I thought this was my room,” he answered, blatantly lying as he then sat on my bed. He really was drunk. The guest room he was supposed to be occupying wasn’t even on my floor.
“Okay fine, if that’s the story you’re going with, let me get dressed and I’ll show you your room.” I tried to move and put the light on so that I could get dressed and walk that drunken fool back to his room when it happened. I remember him gently grabbing my arm to stop me from turning on the light on my nightstand. When he put his hands on me, it was that same feeling I had at the nightclub—arousal like I’ve never felt before. I think I even stopped breathing.
He then urged me back down and strangely started tucking me back in. “No, Sara, go back to sleep. I feel stupid for waking you. I can find my room myself. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Just as he was about to leave, he lowered his head and kissed my lips. I was shocked—frozen, speechless, definitely not breathing at this point. Thinking back now, I truly believe that since he was drunk and operating at half-speed, he meant it to be an innocent peck, but it wasn’t. He was suspended over me, and it looked as though he battled with himself as to why he did it and how he could explain it.
That was the moment I sobered up and chose to be The Sara that everybody believed I was. That was the moment I chose to help materialize the childish illusion I had over some hot stranger I laid eyes on in a noisy club. I bravely placed my arms around his neck and pulled him down to me, kissing him just like they did in the movies. It was first slow and soft, but as I felt him start to kiss me back, I became braver. He smelled like a man and tasted good. I’m sure he was in shock, but he didn’t stop kissing me back, putting his tongue in my mouth and running his fingers through my hair. I remember the deep, throaty sounds he made, clearly enjoying the taste of me.
“Sara. Jesus. Fuck. Stop!”
He said stop? When his words and tone sunk in, I stopped and let go of his neck. Why would he tell me to stop? I remember thinking that I must have horrible breath. What was I thinking, kissing him like that? I felt instantly hurt and ashamed, willing my tears to stop from joining the spectacle I’d just orchestrated. I summoned my inner slut Sara, Sara the ball buster, the say-what’s-on-your-mind-without-a-filter Sara. I needed her strength to emerge, but she was a coward and I lost it. I started to cry. No! I started to wail. Big, ugly tears. I was embarrassed at what I just did. I forced a drunk guy to kiss me. I’d read his signals all wrong. He evidently wanted nothing to do with me. He was just buzzed and accidently stumbled into my room and I attacked him like a crazy girl who’d never seen a boy in her life. How would I explain to him that I was just kidding? I hoped that maybe he was so drunk he wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. Or maybe I just needed to crawl into a hole and die.
With tears running down my face, I whimpered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. I thought that’s what you wanted.”
He turned to me, saying, “Please stop crying. The last thing I need is for you to cry. Of course that’s what I wanted. I’m piss drunk and things are happening very slow in my head, but I still know I want you.” He lowered his head into his hands and started cursing to himself.
I felt the weight of the world lift from me when he said he wanted me. Oh thank God, I repeated in my head. I climbed out of the covers, still sniffling, and sat right next to him on the edge of my bed. I recall wanting to climb into his lap but settled for putting my hand on his upper thigh to assure him that I was on the same page with him.
“Jeff, what’s the problem? You want me, I want you,” I said between hiccups. I tried to make him understand that this was exactly what I needed or I would die of shame and humiliation. He needed to touch me to validate my feelings. I needed him to make the lies I had told Emily about everything I’d ever done with imaginary boys come true. If he touched me, kissed me, and fucked me that night, then I’d stop lying. I’d have no reason to lie anymore.
“Sara, you’re seventeen and you’re my best friend’s under-age sister. I’m going to law school next week; I don’t wanna take advantage of you. Especially in the state my head is in.”
I was about to tell him that I was actually only fifteen, but before I was able to compose my thoughts, he started talking again. He was so beautiful with his messy, disheveled hair no longer slicked back. The slight curve to his upper lip gave him a constant sexy smirk. The boys I knew didn’t have stubble around their jaw, which made me want to pretend I was a real woman and not some stupid, inexperienced fifteen-year-old girl. He smiled at me and it took all my self-restraint not to throw myself at him again.
“Stop smiling at me. You need to be less appealing, Sara! Even your name is perfect. You do know we can’t do this, right? Right? Sara, tell me to fucking leave your room and never come back. Throw me the fuck out, please!” he pleaded, as his face grew serious.
I nodded but couldn’t tear my eyes from him. I couldn’t utter those words. He probably didn’t even know that this was my first kiss. I couldn’t believe that a kiss, just a kiss, could feel like that. At that moment, I only wished for Jeffery to stay with me all night and kiss me the way he did a few minutes ago so I wouldn’t need to lie about anything ever again.
“Kiss me again,” I demanded. I don’t know how I had the nerve to ask him that after what he had said to me. “Please, just a kiss goodnight and I’ll never mention this again. It will be our secret.”
He seemed to contemplate my offer, and I could tell when the devil won. He came at me slow at first, and then the battle was lost and all bets were off. I would’ve let him do anything to me that night. The way he kissed me, tried to inhale me. His hands were in my hair again. Now, I was the one who started to moan as my heart pounded and my pussy violently tingled from that desperate kiss. When he let go of my lips to kiss down my neck, I remember literally feeling like I’d combust, like his touch had ignited every cell within my body. His hands slowly grazed my erect nipples, which I thought would make me convulse in pleasure, and then boom! He just froze and everything stopped. It was as if my nipples woke him up from a spell.
“I can’t do this. I can’t tell if I want you because my brain is telling me that I can’t have you, or because you’re so fucking sexy and innocent and I just wanna ruin you.” He started withdrawing from the space that only seconds ago had been completely invaded by him. “Neither of those reasons are good enough to let myself fuck you tonight.”
“I’m not some virgin, Jeff!” My first lie to him that night, unless you count the lie of omission—not correcting his assumption of my real age. “I’ve fucked plenty of
guys. I’m sorry to wreck your delusional fantasy about ruining me, but you’re too late.” Lie number two. “I usually prefer having two guys at once.” The lie that probably sealed my coffin. He silently assessed my divulgence through his drunken, lust-filled haze, trying to decide if those words really came out of my mouth. I knew that The infamous Sara Klein would finally make an appearance that night after all.
“You! You’ve had sex before?” he asked me with shock and disgust as he continued. “With more than one man, at the same time?” He looked sad and confused, as if I had just told him that Christmas was canceled that year.
“Countless times, Jeffery,” I said, almost believing my own words. After all, I was already a skilled liar. “I could blow you.” I remember offering, not knowing where my sudden sexual confidence came from. I’d never seen a dick in person besides Eddie’s when he was fourteen. If Jeff dropped his pants, I’d have to go into my memory and try to remember what I’d seen porn stars do in the videos I stole from under Eddie’s bed while he went off to school.
“Sara, listen, my head is not in the right place for this. I’d love to take you up on your offer and see you take my dick in your mouth, but I’d rather we sleep on this and talk once the tequila exits my veins. Both my heads are about to blow off from all this shit,” he said, motioning to the increasing space between us.
“If you don’t want to fuck me, then leave. I didn’t take you for a pussy,” I said, trying to goad him.
“Oh, I’ll fuck you, baby, just not tonight. I need to be lucid when my dick enters that wet pussy. Trust me, you won’t ever need anybody else once I start fucking you.” If I only knew back then how true his prophecy really was.
I have never felt liquid fire until that night. His words enflamed me in ways I never knew words could outside of erotic literature and good old-fashioned porn. When he said “wet pussy,” I could actually feel my pussy raise its hand and say “present.” I panted while a cold sweat formed around my overheated body.
“You can play with yourself until I decide what to do with you,” he said jokingly. “I’m almost tempted to stay here and watch. But I know if I see you touching those firm breasts and if I hear even a small moan, I’ll lose it.”
“I want you to play with me. I need to feel you or smell you in order to come.” Another line I’d heard in pornos. I had hoped to break him. Push him to the point of no return. He started to remove his T-shirt, giving me my first view of his naked body. At that point I thought this is it, I did it, I won, but he just took his shirt and threw it at me, adding, “Here, wear this and think of me.” And then he left. I’d failed. He was strong-willed even while inebriated.
His words floated around me hours after he was gone. I removed all my clothes and put his soft T-shirt on and his scent engulfed and suffocated all my senses. I did touch myself that night, and I did have several orgasms thanks to having something of his caressing me. My vivid imagination pressed replay on Jeffery kissing me, touching me, and promising to ruin me.
I’m pretty sure I didn’t sleep for one second that night. I couldn’t wait to see him in the morning. But morning came and Jeff, the giver of my first kiss, was gone. He never came back to discuss our kiss or when he would have sex with me. He left without even saying goodbye, without even offering me his full name. I was left only with a kiss, a T-shirt, a promise, and all the lies I would fabricate until he came back for me. He didn’t come back to see me until a whole year later…
I pause for a moment and look over at Liam to make sure he’s still okay with this and ready for everything I’m about to disclose to him.
“Go on, love, you’re doing great. I only flinched once when you mentioned that arse being the ‘love of your life.’ But since your life is not over yet, I think that was a tad bit presumptuous of you to declare. Do you concur?” he says with his sexy-as-fuck smile.
“No beleaguering the witness, Mr. Knight. Should I be stopping for your smart commentary?” Can this fool be any cuter? I stop to wait for his response.
He shakes his head and adds, “I’ll be a good lad and stay quiet as a mouse.”
I look over and he makes a pantomime motion of locking his mouth and throwing away the key. I can’t resist and I give him a quick peck on his lips. He then fixes my hair again, which I’ve started to think is just an excuse for him to touch me, which I kinda sorta like.
“Stop trying to be sweet or your rules and my confession will all go to shit,” I warn him.
“Sustained, you may proceed,” he says, pretending to lock his mouth again.
I’ve just told Liam about the most important event that shaped my life. He hasn’t looked away from me and hardly interrupted, giving me one hundred percent of his attention and it’s doing all kinds of things to my insides. I feel like we’re in a time capsule, a sort of bubble. It’s almost as if nothing and no one can get to us while we’re comfortably suspended over 5th Ave.
For the first time in my life, I crave telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help me God. I’ve never spoken about the past because I wasn’t going that way. But he’s right! I need this rewind in order to finally be able to press play. I actually want to tell him everything.
“Edge Of Seventeen” by Stevie Nicks
I didn’t see or hear from Jeffery for a whole year, and yet I slept in his T-shirt and with the image of him every night…
My sweet sixteen wasn’t what I’d expected. My parents surprised me and invited all my friends and their friends to the Rainbow Room. They closed down the whole place and tried to throw the party of the year. They spared no expense. Emily’s sister Jenna was a party planner and she designed a party like you’ve never seen before. My parents were both busy with their lives, most of the time dealing with the pressure of being the Jones’ that everybody else needed to keep up with. My dad was the philandering lawyer that pretended to have late-night meetings and screwed every secretary, assistant, and intern he ever hired, and my mother feigned that it was all peachy and pretended she didn’t drink like a sailor to forget that everything was, in fact, not peachy. I had more freedom and money than most kids my age. I partly attribute my fibbing skills to my lying parents; I’d learned from the best.
If you asked anybody about Robert and Laura Klein, they’d all tell you that they were the perfect Upper East Side family. Emily’s mom and my mother were best friends and even Emily’s mom, Adele, would tell you that my parents had a flawless marriage. Heck, if you asked my parents, they’d probably believe their own lies and tell you that they were the luckiest two people in the whole wide world and loved each other from here to eternity. I guess it takes liars to raise liars.
I didn’t want a party, I wanted to stay home and come up with a cool story to tell Emily about how I snuck out and had sex with some hot guy I met at a club. But thanks to my parents and their brilliant idea, I had to mingle and pretend like I was having fun.
My other surprise that night was that my brother came back from school for the weekend for my big birthday. I was actually happy to see Eddie. I’d missed him a lot while he was away. I came home every day to a quiet house, my mother passed out and my dad coming home late—if he came home at all. The housekeeper would warm my food and say three words to me before going home for the day. The only love I got was from Eddie, who was the only person I had no need to lie to. I could’ve told Em the truth a million times. I could’ve stayed at her house and not felt like a lonely, unwanted stray dog, but I didn’t want to blow my parents’ cover. They had an image to uphold and I was an accomplice.
With my arms still embracing Eddie, I felt eyes burning a hole into me. I turned around to see Jeffery, my Jeffery, watching us. He didn’t look pleased; he looked downright pissed.
“Happy sixteenth birthday, Sara!” he said, which almost sounded like a curse coming out of his seething mouth. My heart began beating erratically and the air around me began to thin out as his presence at my sweet sixteenth came into focus.
I finally blinked away the fear and summoned the liar to handle that situation. “Thank you, Jeffery. How noble of you, wanting to come to my party.” His features softened for a second before he visibly remembered his anger with me and schooled his irate face once again.
“I didn’t want to miss your sixteenth birthday! How exciting that you’re closer to becoming a real grown woman, Sara,” Jeff, or shall I say Jeffery, said sweetly for my brother’s sake, yet I could tell he simmered with anger on the inside.
“Hey, Sara, let me go say hi to Mom and Dad,” Eddie declared while waving to my parents by the bar. I could tell by the sourpuss look on my mother’s face that she and Dad just had a fight.
“Okay, I’ll be right here, entertaining Jeffery for you until you come back,” I politely offered, too scared to even chance a look at Jeff.
As soon as Eddie left and turned his back on us, Jeff took hold of my arm and pulled me with force into a quiet corner, away from the band and anyone overhearing us. I had a silent countdown in my head for the moment when he would unleash his anger and let me have it. Calling me out on my lie.
“You were asking me to fuck you and offering me a blowjob and you were fucking fifteen years old?” he asked, or probably demanded is a better word. “Answer me, Sara.”
I looked at my heels and refused to meet his knowing eyes. What could I have said to him? I lied and he knew it. He put his index finger under my chin and brought it up to the level of his gaze.
“How could you let me think you were turning eighteen today?” he asked with a mixture of anger and disappointment written all over that beautiful face; the face that I’ve dreamt about for almost a year. The face that I told my best friend countless lies about. I knew that face so well; even though I’d only seen it once before in my life, it was etched in my memory.