by M. Sembera
I could feel his smile on my cheek as he said, “Lucky guy, I wouldn’t mind having my hands all over you.”
Turning to face him, I blurted, “Jackson,” and popped him on the arm.
Pulling me close again, he asked, “What are you doing after school?”
“I might go to Emerson’s,” I said, hoping he wanted to go there too.
With a light smile he offered, “Since you said you would go out with me again, how about tonight?”
“It’s a school night,” I stated.
Nodding, he looked around then quickly kissed me saying, “That’s why I’m taking you to my house.”
“Your house?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.
Nodding, he smiled, sharing, “My parents will be there.”
Not only was I the exception to his one date rule, now he was taking me to see his parents?
I didn’t know what to say but an involuntary, “Okay,” slipped out through a smile and I thought to hell with my father.
Wrapping his arms around my neck, Jackson tucked his face between one of his arms and started kissing down my neck. Assuming he was trying to hide this very inappropriate display of affection with the sleeves of his hoodie, I leaned my head against his shoulder so it looked like we were hugging. He pulled away slowly at first then quickly let go.
Confused, I took a step back as he blurted, “What the…” then stared right at me, asking, “What happened?”
Shaking my head, I said, “What?”
Appearing as though I had hurt his feelings, Jackson suggested, “We still have about fifteen minutes, let’s sit in my truck.”
Nodding, I didn’t understand what had happened until we were inside the cab. He pulled the top of my sweater to the side, revealing that it wasn’t just covering a thin tank top.
“Was it that jackass?” he questioned, sounding angry.
Thinking yes, my father is a jackass, I questioned, “Who are you talking about?”
“Is that why he asked if you were alright?” he asked.
With a heavy sigh I replied, “No.”
“Then what the hell happened to you?” he demanded.
Feeling very uneasy about the situation, I scooted back.
The look on his face was hard to explain. It was somewhere between hurt and pity. Scowling at him, I crossed my arms in front of my chest. Searching my mind for something to say without directly lying to him I thought, who the hell did he think he was? I had known him for about ten minutes and he was already questioning me. So what if he took me out and so what if I had let him kiss me. That gave him no right to demand I tell him anything.
Narrowing my eyes, I snapped, “Nothing.”
Reaching his hand out to me, Jackson asked, “Is that why he asked if you were okay?”
Shrugging his hand away, I stated, “Hert didn’t do anything to me.”
He shook his head, rephrasing, “He asked if you were okay because he knew you were hurt?”
Clinching my teeth, I nodded.
“Do you need to go home?” he asked, appearing to be considerate.
Making a face at him, I blurted, “No!”
“Did you fall or something?” he questioned.
Rolling my eyes, I fussed, “I guess, something like that,” as I recalled losing my balance after hitting the table.
With a light sigh Jackson leaned his head toward me, saying, “I can take you to my house some other time.”
And there it was.
As Jackson continued his sympathetic gaze, I sat up tall. Hert and I understood each other when it came to these matters. In fact, when we were kids we used to compare bruises and of course Hert always came out ahead. Emerson, although he probably had never been in trouble a day in his life, was understanding and never pushed for an explanation. That was just his way. There was no way Jackson would or could understand and already I could tell no normal guy wanted a damaged girl.
Shaking my head with a slight laugh, I shared, “You don’t have to be nice about it. I understand.”
Confusion spread across his face as he asked, “What am I being nice about?”
“If you don’t want to …” I started to reply before he stopped me, asking, “Do you have anything important in your classes today?”
Shaking my head, I answered, “No. Why?”
“You wanna skip?” he asked.
Shrugging, I questioned, “You’re gonna skip?”
“No, you are. I mean if you want to. I don’t have classes today,” he replied.
Confused, I asked, “Then why are you here?”
Smiling wide, Jackson informed, “So I can see you.”
I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling wide.
Tilting his head to the side, Jackson asked, “Is that a yes?”
With a soft smile I nodded.
When Jackson left to tell Emerson we were leaving, I assumed Em would tell Hert. After a brief thought of, ‘I am going to get in so much trouble for this’, I wondered where we would go. It was crazy how happy Jackson made me. His smile was so infectious, it was nearly impossible for me not to be happy around him. Glancing out of his truck window, I watched him jog back to the truck.
As he got back in he asked, “You ready?”
Nodding, I scooted right next to him. Jackson quickly kissed my cheek before starting up his truck. Placing his arm around me, he pulled out of the school parking lot.
Driving down the road, Jackson asked, “Still up for wherever I wanna take you?”
“That depends on what you plan to do when we get there,” I replied.
“Whatever you let me,” he assured with a smile.
Shaking my head and rolling my eyes at him, I wondered where he would take me that he hadn’t taken another girl before.
When we came upon a little wooded area, Jackson pulled his truck between some trees and pulled around to a small clearing. Leaning back slightly, I gave him a suspicious look.
Stopping the truck, he pulled the keys out of the ignition, saying, “No, this isn’t a place I take girls to,” before sharing, “My house isn’t far from here. My cousins and I used to wander around back here.”
Smiling back, I raised an eyebrow, asking, “So why are we here?”
Leaning in, he kissed me before saying, “I didn’t know where else to take you, you’re supposed to be at school.”
Taking a deep breath, I nodded, wondering if that was the only reason.
“Look, I’m just gonna say it. If you fell or had an accident okay, but if someone did that to you, Ren that’s not okay,” Jackson informed.
Scowling, I snapped, “Is that why you brought me out here? So you can question me some more?”
“No, I…” he started before I slid over and hopped out of his truck.
Why was this so important to him? I walked to the back of his truck. I didn’t have to put up with this. Why couldn’t he just be happy I wanted to skip school to make out with him and not care about anything else? What happened to the guy everyone said was just after one thing? Where was that guy? That’s who I said yes to. Leaning against the tailgate, I wished I had just gone to school.
It only took a minute for him to get out of the truck and walk towards me. Stepping to the side, I watched him drop the tailgate and quietly offer for me to sit. As I hesitantly accepted, he helped me onto the tailgate.
Standing in front of me, Jackson asked, “Why would you put up with someone doing that to you?”
Scowling at him, I questioned, “Why can’t you just drop it?”
Appearing upset at first, his expression quickly changed as he asked, “Has anyone kissed it yet?”
I held my breath for a moment shaking my head.
Hooking his finger into the front of my sweater, he asked, “Can I?”
“Why do you want to?” I questioned not quite understanding why his question made me feel the way it did.
Stepping closer, he placed his hands on my sides, saying, “'Cause when you’r
e hurt, someone is supposed to kiss it and make it better.”
There was a knot in my stomach and I couldn’t help saying, “Really?”
Nodding, he sighed asking, “Will you take your sweater off?”
Unsure of how to answer, I stared at him.
I really wanted to. I wanted him to kiss me to make me feel better and I knew it would. The problem was the dark bruise on my shoulder was only the beginning. If I took my sweater off, he would see all the others sprinkled down my arms. Then what if he asked if there were more? What if he wanted to kiss them too? Or what if he looked at them and was disgusted and thought I was weak. Thinking of how it could go either way, and how neither would be good, I shook my head.
“Then can I take it off?” he asked before slowly kissing me.
He didn’t wait for an answer this time. Sliding his hand from my side to the first button, Jackson undid it. After making his way down to the last one, he stopped. He took a step back and smiled before unzipping his hoodie. Taking it off, he tossed it into the truck bed and stepped right between my legs.
My whole body tensed up as he placed one hand on my side while the other held the top of my sweater on my shoulders, asking, “May I?”
Not wanting to see his expression, I turned my head away from him and closed my eyes. As I felt him pull my sweater down, I could feel his hand on my side stiffen.
I could only imagine what he was thinking. Ready to bail on him, I was surprised to feel a soft kiss on my shoulder. Removing his hand from my side, he carefully held my arm with both hands, gently moving it around to kiss every bruise.
Whispering, “I like your bracelet, green is my favorite color,” he continued.
He took my face in his hand and kissed my eye again before continuing to my other arm. My chest felt warm and as I opened my eyes, I watched him. Letting go of my other arm, he ran both of his hands into the back of my hair pulling it down. Wrapping my hair thing around his finger, he leaned in and softly kissed me. Suddenly I felt close to him. The warmth in my chest invaded my heart before it spread down my arms to my fingertips giving me a chill. Smiling wide, Jackson reached over and grabbed his hoodie before draping it over my shoulders.
“You should tell me who did that to you,” he whispered.
Shaking my head, I asked, “Why do you need to know?”
Wrapping his arms around me, he replied, “So I can stomp their ass into the ground, that’s why.”
Slightly smiling, I said, “It’s really not a big deal, I’m fine,” sounding very much like one of those ‘Social Awareness’ videos they made us watch in middle school.
Back to his pitiful gaze now, he asked, “This isn’t the first time?”
With a heavy sigh, I snapped, “Are we gonna spend all day on this?”
Appearing a little irritated, he said, “That’s up to you.”
Frustrated that he wouldn’t just drop it, I raised my voice, informing, “No it’s not the first time and I’m sure it’s not the last time either so unless you want to take me back to school, drop it!”
I could tell he was mulling over what I had just said.
Waiting to see what he was going to do, I thought seriously about continuing to see him. I mean really what was his deal. No one I had ever known in my life had such a problem with this. Granted he wasn’t the first person to see a bruise and ask a question but his persistence was irritating. Why would he care that much? It wasn’t like anyone was hitting him.
“It’s not okay for someone to put their hands on you,” he finally said.
Giving up with him, I hopped down off the tailgate and sarcastically griped, “It’s not? Well I sure wished I had met you sooner because then I would have known.”
“Wait,” he blurted before I turned around, threw his hoodie at him and fussed, “Who the hell do you think you are? I just met you and already you think you have the right to tell me how things should be! You think I like having to wear long sleeves or missing school? Do you honestly think that I don’t know how screwed up this is? Oh, but surely you bringing it up every five minutes, reminding me of what my life is really like, will make me feel better. I just wanted to hang out here with you, not feel bad about myself. Geez, why couldn’t you just drop it!”
He stood there for a few minutes before saying, “I don’t know why you would feel bad.”
On the verge of assaulting him, I snapped, “That’s right you don’t. You don’t know anything and it’s you that’s making me feel bad and nothing else.”
Giving me a shocked and confused look he said, “You forgot your sweater.”
With a loud exhale, I stomped back over to the tailgate to grab it.
Quickly grabbing my sweater off the tailgate of his truck, it caught on the corner. Without thinking I gave it a hard yank, tearing a big hole in in. Thinking ‘great’ I stood there staring at it. How was I supposed to go anywhere now? Glancing over, I saw Jackson hold his hoodie out to me. I stood there for a second before holding out my hand to take it. Pulling it back from my grasp, he shook his head and held it open. Gritting my teeth, I stepped closer sliding my arm into the sleeve. Once I had it on he reached down to zip it. Taking a step back, I grabbed the bottom and zipped it up myself. At first he seemed disappointed then smiling wide, he held up his hand. My hair thing was still wrapped around his finger. Thinking ‘damn it’ I knew I needed that too. I almost cracked a smile when Jackson held his middle finger up for me to take it back. I knew what he was doing but I refused to endure anymore questions or pitiful glances concerning my situation.
Jackson stood there smiling and waiting. With a light sigh, I stepped in front of him. Taking his hand, I started to unwrap my hair thing from around his finger. Curling his fingers around mine he pulled me a little closer. When I looked up at him he leaned in and kissed me. Pulling back he smiled wide and I couldn’t help smiling back.
“So are we good?” he asked.
Nodding with a sigh, I replied, “Yea, we're good.”
With a slight smirk he said, “We still have a few hours before school's out.”
Laughing a little, I said, “Okay,” before asking, “What did you have in mind?”
“We could get to know each other better,” Jackson suggested.
His tone implied he was after more than conversation.
Raising an eyebrow, I informed, “I’m not sleeping with you.”
Smiling wide, he said, “Good, 'cause I’m not tired.”
Before I had a chance to say anything else, he kissed me.
Pulling back, he asked, “You wanna sit?”
When I nodded, Jackson helped me back onto the tailgate. Sliding his arms under mine, he pulled me close, kissing me.
The longer we kissed the lower is his hands moved until they rested right around my hips. As his hands tugged me closer, the knot in my stomach grew. His polite persistence made me start to question how far I was willing to go. Then as I felt his hand slide under the hoodie, I had to pull away. Smiling at him, I scooted back and crossed my legs in front of myself on the tailgate. Making his little pouty face, he sighed before sitting down on the tailgate next to me.
“Are you scared?” he asked in a low tone.
Confused, I questioned, “Of what?”
Rolling his eyes at me, he laughed, “Sex.”
“No,” I blurted feeling a little embarrassed.
Appearing curious, he asked, “Are you waiting?”
Trying to think of a good way to answer, I admitted, “Waiting implies that I’m waiting for something. I’m not waiting for anything. I’m just not going to.”
“Not even when you’re married?” he questioned.
With a light sigh, I replied, “I’m not doing that either.”
“Ever?” he asked.
Shaking my head, I explained, “It just doesn’t seem that great. I mean why would you spend your whole time growing up waiting to be free and do what you want, to get married and then always have to obey them.”
J
ackson stared at me baffled for a moment before saying, “I don’t think it’s supposed to be like that.”
“Oh really? Then how come obey is in marriage vows?” I asked.
With a frustrated sigh, he said, “Ok, I guess marriage isn’t for everyone but I still don’t understand your aversion to sex.”
Wondering why this was such a hard concept for him to grasp, I shared, “Ok, my mother got pregnant with me so she and my father got married. For all I know they were happy before that. They aren’t happy now though, in fact they are probably the most unhappy people ever and if they hadn’t had sex she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant and they wouldn’t be so miserable.”
“What’s your mom like?” he asked.
Shrugging, I replied, “She's not really like anything. She’s just kinda there.”
I could tell he was having a hard time understanding as he asked, “And your dad?”
“My father,” I corrected before answering, “Is…unpleasant to be around.”
Appearing slightly hesitant, Jackson imparted, “I see how you would feel the way you do but I think you should reconsider the sex part.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at him as I said, “I bet you do.”
When he blurted, “I’m being serious,” I laughed harder, saying, “So am I!”
Smiling, he asked, “Well, what about everything else?”
Tilting my head to the side, I gave him a questioning look.
Leaning in, he kissed me before asking, “What about messin’ around?”
“Nothing that leads to sex, Jackson,” I stated.
I started to get the feeling the issue was getting serious.
Staring back at him, I wondered how this was really going to work if we wanted different things. As much as I wanted for the issue of sex not to be an issue, it was pretty clear, it was. It was unfair of him to try and change my mind on the matter but in a way, I was doing the exact same thing to him.
“I like you,” I assured before saying, “But if this is going to be a problem, maybe its better if we just…”
Leaning in, he kissed me then slightly fidgeting, he asked, “Will you be my girlfriend?”
Caught off guard, that was the last thing I imagined him saying. Quietly nodding, I smiled.
