Everything Changes

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Everything Changes Page 11

by Shey Stahl


  “Don’t stop,” I pleaded, reaching for his shoulders, trying to pull him back inside. “Please, Parker.” I didn’t want him to stop in fear this would never happen again. I waited and waited for him to notice me. Now here we were, together.

  Holding himself above me, he looked down, his brow furrowing with uncertainty. He wanted this but he didn’t want to hurt me. “I hurt you―” he wanted to say more but stopped when I placed my fingers to his lips.

  “I know but please…don’t stop, Parker. I want you.” I felt his stomach muscles contracting steadily with each breath he took. “Please…I’m begging you.”

  His expression was one of sadness mixed evenly with want. I felt him move, his erection sliding along my inner thigh until he was there, waiting.

  Taking in a shaky, nervous breath, his hips moved again. It hurt and burned but was soothing all at the same time.

  Parker gasped, his breath catching in his throat. “Fuck…” he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut “...Ro, I’m not gonna last long.” He moved again, this time sliding with ease. His breathing intensified and I wasn’t sure if I was breathing. My eyes were wide, my body tense. Maybe I was in shock from the pain, or maybe it was the overwhelming feelings surging through me, as though every nerve ending was exposed and on fire, sending signals to my brain. Except my brain was on lockdown, too scared to move, too scared to feel.

  Parker breathed against my neck, wetting me with his hot breath. His arms tightened around my body, pulling me into his movements. They weren’t forceful but they weren’t gentle. Each movement was easier but also more confusing. It was all happening so quickly I just wanted to stop him. But I couldn’t in fear he’d pull away again. Instead, I hung onto him as tight as I could, desperately clutching to anything he gave.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered and then squeezed me again. This time his grasp on my hips sent a wave of pain radiating through my body and I whimpered. Parker didn’t seem to notice this time, and now he moved even faster, grunting and pushing into me harder, each one of his movements causing the blanket to slide against the sand.

  I realized then what he was sorry for when his body began to jerk in erratic movements. Shaking, he let out a soft grunt, and my name fell quietly from his lips.

  It was all over in a matter of minutes, and I realized this was not the kind of sex I read about in books. Maybe it was because it was our first time, but I didn’t focus on that so much as I did on the fact that he finally gave in. Out of all those girls hanging on his every word tonight, it was me he was so intimate with. It was me who he shared his innocence with.

  I ran my hands through his hair as he lifted his head and gazed down at me. “I’m sorry. That probably sucked for you,” he said quietly, shifting to the side. With another shaky breath, he fell back to the rocky ground with a groan.

  I smiled. “It was great.”

  “You’re so full of shit right now.” He laughed breathlessly, his bare chest shaking with the movement. His hands came up to his face and he scrubbed them over his eyes. Only problem was that he had sand on them. “Shit…” He laughed, trying to blink away the grains.

  We lay there until the fireworks dwindled down and Parker wanted to try again.

  “I need redemption,” was his answer for wanting to try again so soon.

  So we did. This time he made sure I found pleasure first before he even tried entering me again. I also cried when he pulled out this time. I felt the tears the first time, but this time I couldn’t control it. Parker knew. He had to considering I was soaking his arm and shaking in broken sobs, but he never said anything at the time. He just held me tight against his chest.

  “Did I hurt you?” he finally asked after my tears slowed.

  It took me a minute to formulate a response that wouldn’t sound like a seventeen-year-old emotional train wreck. “No, it wasn’t that.”

  We were quiet again after that, just taking comfort in each other’s arms and watched the colors light the sky around us.

  “I hate to end this but…we’re in a state park. Once that sun peaks over that rock…” he gestured towards the east, titling his head to the side, and then kissed my bare shoulder “...that hill will be swarming with photographers.” His eyes met mine again. “I’m not sharing this view.”

  “All right, I’m not one for nude photography so let’s go.”

  We found our clothes and dressed quickly, but he stopped and pulled me against his chest before getting on his bike.

  “I love you,” he said, not looking at me. His eyes closed and a small smile tugged at the corners of his perfect lips. My fingers reached out to run across his collarbone. I laid my head against his chest, focusing on his beating heart instead of the words spoken, blinking incessantly as I attempted to process what he had just said. As the words hung in the air, his heart beat rapidly, his breathing erratic.

  There were a thousand things I could have said to him in that moment, most of which were completely cheesy, but instead I said nothing just as he said nothing when I cried.

  He confessed his love and I said nothing. I let out my fears and he said nothing.

  I don’t know why I never said it. I did love him, but my lips wouldn’t form the words.

  Parker didn’t seem to notice as he gazed intently at the rising sun, our insecurities ascending with each color revealed. I didn’t know if he was actually looking for me to say it back to him either. I honestly think he was just relieved to say it.

  Just the same, I wasn’t looking for comfort when I cried per se. It just felt good to feel comfortable enough to let it out.

  That was one trait the two of us never lacked. We felt so comfortable around each other that we didn’t need to say anything. But sometime words would have been nice.

  CHAPTER 8

  Rowan Jensen

  Wheelie

  When a rider throttles up quickly and the front wheel lifts in the air. Riders often do this deliberately as a celebratory maneuver at the end of a race.

  July 5, 1997

  How are you supposed to feel the morning after?

  I wondered how Addy felt, and then I wondered why I hadn’t asked her. I had heard some feel guilt, shame, maybe even regret from the activities the night before. I guess how you felt the next morning depended on the circumstances that led up to the morning after.

  I didn’t feel guilty or ashamed.

  Not me. You couldn’t have wiped the grin off my face if you tried. Sure, it hurt last night, but I was his. In the light of the pale moon, we shared something together. Something neither one of us had ever done before. At that moment, I didn’t care if it never happened again because it happened once.

  No one could take that away from me.

  All my concerns last night seemed so shallow. He really did only want me.

  After the sun began to rise, we rode back to the condo. All the while, I smiled like a fool as I held onto his waist with my head tucked against his. I replayed every touch, every kiss, and it was perfect. I wanted to fist pump the air, but I didn’t.

  Parker’s breathing was light, his riding style with me on his bike careful but still relaxed enough that I knew he wasn’t uncomfortable with me on there.

  He made love to me twice and he told me he loved me.

  Thinking of love made me realize I said nothing to him about loving him back. He also didn’t seem to mind. He was smiling just as much as I was. And if you knew Parker, he never smiled that much.

  When we pulled up to the garage doors, Parker leaned the bike to one side and then reached with his left foot to flick the kickstand down as the garage door slid open.

  I maneuvered myself from the seat to stand in front of him. He grinned looking down at me. “Nice hair.”

  “Thanks, I spent hours on it.”

  “It shows.” He laughed, throwing his leg over the bike to stand on the opposite side as me, still gazing down at me. Then he leaned forward against the side of the bike, and I did the same. Soon our lips
were touching, followed by our hands. Flashes of last night surged through me. The way his hands felt over my body, the tender way he kissed me, all reminders of our time together.

  He was so much more than I expected him to be and perfect for a seventeen-year-old girl like me. I was just as shy as he was. Together, we opened up a little. Not a lot but enough that we were something together.

  He tasted like Parker: sweet and salty all at the same time. His lips were soft but hungry. I could tell within minutes things were heating up once again and knew for sure when he moaned softly.

  “You’re killing me, Rowan.” He used his hands to push me back a little, his head dropping to my shoulder, shaking side to side.

  “Let’s go up to your room,” I suggested in a voice I wasn’t sure was mine.

  Where did this girl come from?

  Parker didn’t seem to care and took my hand to lead me up the stairs to his room. There were people scattered everywhere throughout the downstairs sleeping on the floor and up against the wall.

  “It’s better than years before.” We stepped over a group of girls that were half-naked, lying with a couple guys which was a little weird. Parker just shook his head as we climbed the stairs. “At least the cops weren’t called.”

  I let out a soft chuckle but didn’t say anything. My mind was on Parker, not these people.

  Beer bottles were scattered on the stairs along with more people and clothes. It looked like a frat party in there.

  Once we were inside the room, his playful grin darkened as he stepped towards me. “Now that I have you alone again…” He picked me up bridal style and then tossed me on his bed, pouncing. It was nice to see the playful side as opposed to the shy side. Don’t get me wrong, I loved shy Parker, but his smile and the way it touched his eyes could sway any emotion.

  “I’m scared.” I cackled, squirming away from him.

  “Don’t be scared.” He buried his face in my neck, his teeth teasingly nipping at my skin. “I would never hurt you.” Though he was being playful, the tone of his voice held the meaning in his words. He wouldn’t hurt me, at least not intentionally

  He pulled back, holding himself up on his arms as he hovered over me. My legs wrapped around his waist. His head bent forward so our foreheads were touching and he winked.

  I wanted to tell him that I loved him, the moment seemed fitting, but I didn’t. I was scared.

  He pressed forward, his lips touching mine. Wrapping my arms around his back, I pulled him closer so his weight settled on me. To me, there was something about feeling him like this. Watching him day after day since he came to our small town back in April, I wondered what it would be like to touch him, kiss him, and of course see his penis.

  Come on, I was seventeen. Of course, I wondered what it looked like. I guaranteed all girls my age thought about that. If they said they didn’t, they were lying. I was sure of that.

  I wasn’t disappointed either, though it was larger than I imagined. I thought he had a very nice penis.

  All this penis imagining got me hot and flushed and mostly bothered. I felt it through his shorts when he pushed against my hips through his shorts as we kissed. Parker rolled to his back, pulling me on top of him, his hands guiding me against his chest.

  Things were heating up just as they always did when Justin knocked on the door. “Rowan, are you in there?”

  Parker sighed heavily, closing his eyes. “Fuck…go away, Justin.” He leaned forward, the muscles in his stomach strained as he sought out my kiss.

  “I really need Rowan.” Justin’s voice was frantic.

  “Come on, Justin, get lost.” Parker was still kissing me but something about Justin’s tone made me look at the door. “I don’t knock on your door.”

  “It’s Addy!” Justin stressed, his fist hitting the door.

  I shot out of Parker’s grasp, tripped over shoes and clothes, and threw the door open, half dressed. “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s…” I didn’t let him finish before I was running down the hall to his room despite being in just a pair of shorts and my bra.

  Addy was slumped against the bed with a bottle of honey in her hand and spilled orange juice around her. Justin came into the room followed by Parker.

  “She said she needed honey and orange juice.” Justin knelt next to the bed, rubbing her back. “I gave it to her and then she passed out.”

  “How long has she been like this?” I noticed Parker kneeling beside us with a bottle of water for Addy.

  “Just a minute or so.” His eyes got wide. “I came to get you right away.”

  “What happened to her?” Parker asked, standing near the door.

  “Justin…she can’t take her medication and not eat.” I scolded him as I examined her pulse. She was breathing fine.

  “What medicine?” He looked over at me.

  I should have known she wouldn’t tell him. She never told anyone in fear they wouldn’t accept her.

  Addy was diagnosed four years ago with Type One diabetes and was insulin dependent. For this reason, she hid it from everyone except Mia and me. I thought, or I should say I hoped, that she would have told Justin.

  “She’s diabetic,” I said to the both of them as Addy started to come around.

  Both Parker and Justin just gawked at me as though I spoke Greek.

  Addy seemed upset when she realized what happened, so I asked Justin and Parker to wait in the hallway. They did without another word and closed the door behind them.

  “Addy,” I spoke softly, handing her the water Parker gave me. “You should have told him you were diabetic. You can’t keep something like this from him.”

  She only nodded. She felt terrible enough without having to worry about making us mad. Diabetic seizures weren’t pretty. Just like any seizure, you were sore, disoriented, and exhausted.

  I managed to get her to eat some oatmeal and drink another glass of orange juice before checking her blood sugar again. When I first checked it, it was around thirty five. Now we had a cushion and it showed one thirty nine. Next, I called Mia to make sure I didn’t need to take her to the doctor or anything and then reassured a very disturbed Justin that Addy would be fine.

  “Very few people know she has diabetes, Justin,” I explained when he thought she might have been afraid to tell him. “It’s not something she broadcasts.”

  “I can’t believe she wouldn’t feel comfortable telling me.” His brow furrowed as his memory of her appearance came to him. “Now those bruises on her stomach make sense.”

  Addy was now curled up on his lap sleeping in the living room while Parker and I sat across from them on the other couch.

  Gently, Justin rubbed her back. He seemed sincere but I could sense that he was slightly offended that she didn’t feel comfortable enough with him to tell her secret. It wasn’t that Addy didn’t want to tell him. It was that she didn’t want his pity. Anytime someone found out her parents gave her up and then she had diabetes too, they had the same pitiful look that screamed, “That poor girl.”

  Addy was far from that poor girl. She was brave. The best friend anyone could ever want. She was loving and funny. She didn’t need pity. Brushing her blonde hair from her neck, Justin’s fingers traced circles along her collarbone, his eyes downcast so he could watch her sleep.

  I wanted to give them some time alone, and I also knew Addy would be fine, so I asked Parker if he wanted to come with me to do some laundry. Their washing machine had some questionable substance in it from last night. Judging by the smell coming from the laundry room, I was sure someone died in there. Not really, but it smelled rancid.

  Parker decided to stay and clean up since Justin had no plans of leaving Addy. I tried to tell him she would more than likely sleep for the next twelve hours straight, but he still wouldn’t leave her side, and I understood. One time I spent four days next to her when she switched medication just to make sure she would be okay. Being an only child, Addy was the sister I never had.

&nb
sp; We had plans to leave tomorrow and Parker wanted the place clean before they left.

  I rode my bike into town, the cloud cover was nice for a change. It was still hot outside so I wore my usual tank top with my riding pants.

  It took me about two hours to get all of our clothes washed and dried.

  Going to town alone was suddenly a bad idea when I rounded the corner at the laundry mat and ran into Dusty. Noticing I was alone, he smiled and stepped towards me. I wasn’t afraid of Dusty. I really had no reason to be but the way he made small talk about the weather seemed shifty to me.

  “What is it that you want?” I finally asked when he leaned against the washing machine as though he was completely comfortable.

  He swept his black hair out of his eyes and winked. “I think you know what I want.” His voice was laced with lewdness. Lewdness that was revolting to me.

  “No, I really don’t know.” I reached for the laundry bags and stepped towards the door.

  Dusty’s hand reached out to clasp mine in an iron grip. There was no way I was getting away from him.

  “Let go.” I looked down at his white knuckles. “You’re hurting me.”

  “Well, then I guess you should come back to my place then, shouldn’t you?” He gave me a smile that was meant to be persuasive, but I didn’t take it that way. “I’m not trying to be a dick here, Rowan. Just thinking maybe we could have some fun for a night. Parker’s just a kid. Maybe I can show you a little more than he can.” His voice faded as his repulsive smile grew.

  “I’m with Parker,” was the response I came up with after stuttering like an idiot for a moment.

  Dusty chuckled, stepping in front of me as I walked out of the laundry mat and onto the curb outside. His car was parked there and it all seemed planned.

  “Let me tell you something, Rowan.” He let go of my wrist, and I should have run away, but the stupid girl inside of me wanted to hear what he was going to say. “Parker isn’t with you…you may think he is, but there is a side to him you’ll never understand. Emotionally, Parker is never with anyone. He can’t be.”

 

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