A Girl Named Mister (2 page)

I never thought

he was perfect.

I won’t tell myself

that lie.

But he was fine,

had a twinkle in his eye

with my name on it.

And when he smiled

I fell into him

headfirst,

got lost in his laughter.

I saw no danger.

After all,

we were just friends.

I remember the first time

he claimed me.

We were at a party

with a bunch of kids from school

just after Thanksgiving.

I’d gone with Sethany.

Trey had shown up on his own,

like always.

Seth and I were chatting away

when some guy

from a school ‘cross town

came up to me for a dance.

Before I had a chance to speak,

Trey threw me a look,

then got all in this guy’s face,

smiling though

and saying nice as anything,

“Excuse me, but

this is my girl.”

Trey found me in the library,

surprised me with a kiss

on the back of my neck.

The heat of it

ran up and down my spine

and I’m thinking,

Dylan who?

“See you later,” Trey whispers.

distracting me a little more

for good measure.

So, of course,

I had to go back

to the top of the page

and start reading

“Do Not Go Gentle

Into that Good Night”

all over again.

I can’t usually stand know-it-all

b-ball players,

but I liked the way

Trey committed to

steering clear of drugs,

and how he talked about

keeping his body pure—

something we had in common,

even though I know

it doesn’t mean the same

for him and me.

Maybe, one day

it will.

Trey said he’d be happy

to hang out with me wherever,

so I invite him to video night

at church.

Soon as the lights wink out

in the rec room

and
Princess Bride

blinks onto the screen

(never mind that we’ve all seen

it a gazillion times!),

Trey whispers in my ear

that he wants me all to himself.

No more of these group dates

on video night,

or lame trips (his words)

to the local skating rink

for spins around the ice

and cups of hot chocolate.

“Why can’t we,

you know,

go on a real date,

just you and me?”

yeah, why not?

I start thinking.

Why not?

“Careful,” Seth warned me.

“I see the way you look at Trey,

the way he looks at you.

Remember, we both promised God

we’d wait.”

“We’re not doing anything,” I told her.

We’re not doing anything,

I told myself.

Still, I couldn’t help but notice

how the purity band

on my ring finger

seemed loose lately.

Like any day now,

it might

just

slip

off.

Alone at his house,

his parents I don’t know where,

we sit on the sofa,

the TV watching the heat

rising between us.

I tingle all over

as Trey closes the distance.

It’s okay,

I tell myself.

I won’t let it go

too far.

But before I know it,

his hand is rubbing my inner thigh,

racing toward my waist,

reaching underneath my—

What am I doing?

“Stop!” I tell him

using what little breath

I have left,

too trapped

in my own frustration

to worry

about his.

I switch on the TV,

see this boy and girl

plastered against the wall

of some fictional school,

kissing their brains out,

then sneaking inside the boys’ room.

Together.

I shudder, slightly disgusted,

and turn away.

Still, I start to wonder

if all the other

kids are right.

Am I Miss Priss?

Am I making too big a deal

about waiting?

“You’re so beautiful,” says Trey,

his hands busy

with my buttons.

I finger the cross

round my neck.

A voice inside me chides

Remember:

you’re saving yourself for true love.

Trey must’ve heard.

How else to explain

him suddenly

cupping my face in his hands

and whispering,

“you’re killing me, girl.

you know I’m falling

in love with you.”

Nelly’s “Body on Me”

filters through the window.

I close my eyes,

wait for the music to end,

but I still can’t sleep.

The beat of my thoughts

a rhythm I can’t get

out of my head.

I just want you.

I just want to be

your addiction
—

lines from a song

stirring in me

and the CD

isn’t even on.

Like a summer shower

falling in silver sheets

thick as curtains,

love rains down on me.

Love

and love

and love

and Trey

are all I see.

I can’t explain it.

I think
Trey

and feel as if

I’ve swallowed warm honey

and a spoonful of sun.

I’m not that pretty,

still I’m the one

he wants.

Don’t ask me why.

I only know

it makes me happy.

And isn’t that what love is?

And isn’t love what God is?

So how can wanting more of this

be wrong?

Trey strokes my bare shoulder

and I shudder as

once-familiar words burst

like fireworks in my brain.

Something Pastor said about

temptation, and God’s help.

What was it?

I start to push away,

to study the words before

they fade.

“you’re sweet as

a chocolate Sunday,”

whispers Trey.

I smile, close my eyes,

and wait for more.

Before I know it,

my eyelids are screens

flashing the words

your body is a temple

of the
—

“Silk wishes it were

as soft as you,”

Trey interrupts,

blowing hotly in my ear.

And after that, I swear

I don’t remember

much of anything.

Oh, God, oh, God! His hands

mapping every inch of me,

journeying where they shouldn’t be

but, ooooh!

Lord, I know you’ll understand.

you made my skin, Trey’s hand.

I never knew it could feel so—

What’s he doing?

Mmmm. He’s tracing my name

across my belly,

Mister, each letter

wet from his tongue.

God, I’m sorry but

I can’t stop,

don’t want to—

Oh God, oh God, Oh

God will forgive me,

right?

Right?

He sleeps, guiltless.

I slink out of bed,

slither into wrinkled shirt and jeans,

pretend I’m a shadow

creeping across the floor,

slipping out the door,

racing home quick as feet

can meet the air.

But no matter how fast I flee,

step by step

guilt gains on me.

I.

It’s not that I thought

angels would sing,

or the sky would part.

I’m not a kid.

But I did think

there’d be this trade,

that I’d give something up

and he would too.

Instead,

I’m somehow less

and his more

is still locked away

in a mystery

of bone and skin,

and the sin of it

is that I’m empty now,

and keyless.

II.

It wasn’t worth

all the guilt,

I know that much.

Besides, once he got past

the feeling-up part,

it was mostly pain.

Why do all those

stupid songs say

the first time

is the best?

What would Seth say?

I’m not ready to tell her, yet.

Not ready to see the look in her eye,

the one that says

What happened to the promise

you made to God?

I wish it was easier

breaking God’s law.

I wish that commitment band

didn’t burn my finger

like lye.

I snatched it off that night,

opened my bedroom window

and tossed it.

If Mom asks where it’s gone,

I’ll say I lost it.

What’s one more lie?

I already told God

I didn’t mean it,

that I hadn’t planned

to give myself away.

But just between me and you,

that’s only half true.

My mind’s a mess.

Wasn’t it yesterday

I looked for Trey around

every corner, down every hall?

Now, for the last three days

all I do

is duck whenever

he comes into view.

I need time to think,

to figure out

what I’m feeling

and why.

I switch on the computer

Mom worked overtime

to pay for,

check my IM

and click on slickwillow,

the screenname Coach

gave my best friend, Sethany,

‘cause she’s tall and willowy,

and the enemy always

counts her out,

thinking she’s a girly-girl.

But once she hits the court,

look out,

‘cause she’s a slammer,

and God help the girl

across from Sethany

when she’s at the net.

“hey! waz up?”

The words pop

on the computer screen.

“before you answer,

wat’s a 6 letter wd

for sequester?”

“wat’s sequester?” I write.

“sigh. that’s Y U cant

beat me at Scrabble.

U have heard of the dictionary?”

“whatever,” I write.

“i’ve got more important things

on my mind.”

“oooh! this is going 2 be hot,

i can tell.” ☺

“well, i was with Trey last week.”

“and?”

“i—was—with—Trey last week.”

“OMG,” Sethany writes. (:0)

“exactly.”

I didn’t tell Seth this,

but I wish I had waited.

I know, God.

You wish I had too.

How come your voice

is coming through loud and clear now?

Why couldn’t I hear you before?

Never mind. I know.

Call me Jonah.

I was too busy running

in the opposite direction.

Just one more thing

for which I have to take the blame.

The next day

Seth nods to me

across the classroom,

like always.

Except there’s something off

about her silent hello,

a look that says

I guess I don’t know you

as well as I thought.

“Waz up, girl?

Hardly seen u since—

u know.

I’m missing u.

When can we meet?

Trey.”

I hit delete.

Wish I could do the same

with that one, wrong night.

The next day

Trey meets me after class.

He leans in for a kiss.

I love those lips

and get lost in them, for a minute.

But then I come to my senses.

“Trey, we need to talk.”

He pulls back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I mean –”

My hands go clammy.

“I don’t want to talk here.”

“Let’s go to my place then.”

A siren goes off in my head.

His place? Alone? Again?

“Fine,” I tell us both,

promising myself

this time will be different.

Inside the door,

Trey drops our backpacks

on the floor,

and reaches for me

as if he’s grown

an extra pair of hands.

They’re everywhere—

at my buttons,

fiddling with my zipper.

I push him away.

“Stop it, Trey.

We can’t do this.

I
can’t do this.

I’m sorry.”

Trey goes stone-still,

then drops his hands

to his sides.

His eyes go glacial.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat.

“Whatever.

I need to hit the shower.

You know where the door is.”

“But Trey—”

“Go run hot and cold

somewhere else.”

It’s me.

I must’ve done

something wrong,

not made myself clear.

I mean, he loves me, right?

So it shouldn’t matter

if we’re not together

like that.

Maybe if I just

explain it to him right.

I’ll try again, tonight.