Authors: Ellen Hopkins
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Family, #General, #Orphans & Foster Homes, #Social Issues, #Adolescence, #Drugs; Alcohol; Substance Abuse
SHE DENIES THAT TOTALLY
Whatever the future holds
,
I will always be here for you.
I made that commitment a very
long time ago
, she claimed.
We were shopping for her wedding
gown. Waiting for the sales-
lady to bring out another dress
to view. Size six. Off the shoulder.
I could have picked out the dress
she eventually chose without her
even being there. I know her. Too
well. Will I know her next year?
Nothing will really change
that much
, she promised.
Except
I’ll be living with Liam, and
I’m kind of doing that now.
True. Other than wedding stuff,
I hardly see her at all. Which gives
me much too much time alone,
thinking about my own future.
ABSORBED BY STATUS QUO
I never really thought very far
beyond the day-to-day. Next year
I’ll graduate high school. Then what?
University? Doubtful. Community
college? Maybe. But I still have no
idea what I want to be. Teacher?
I can’t imagine spending my days
trying to keep kids in line, let alone
trying to teach them something.
Astronomer? I actually love scouring
the heavens, imagining what might be
out there somewhere. But how do you
make money doing that? Doctor?
Blood makes me sick. Stockbroker?
Yeah, right. Some tedious job seems
the likely road, and routine might work
best for me. But will it bring happiness?
Fulfillment? I don’t even know if that matters.
Beyond “what will I do,” where will I live?
I can see Grandfather failing, though
he’d never admit it in a million years,
especially not to himself. If he gets sick,
I’ll take care of him, like he’s taken
care of me. But if he dies … what?
My fingers begin to tingle. I’m alone
now, as I’ll be alone then, swallowed
by silence. I rasp razor-edged air.
On my own. Don’t want to be there.
Can’t breathe. On my own. Must.
Breathe. On my own …
SUDDEN FOCUS
Buzz.
Silence.
Buzz.
Silence.
What? Doorbell. My head clears
with a deep breath. Doorbell?
Bryce. “Just a second,” I call
loudly. Don’t leave! I’m here.
And now he is here with me.
I go to the door, trying not to
look as pasty faced as I feel.
An exercise in futility.
Are you okay?
are the first
words out of Bryce’s mouth.
You don’t look so good.
“I’m fine now you’re here.” I pull
him over the threshold, close
the door quickly, so the neighbors
don’t notice I have a visitor. I want
it to be our luscious little secret.
Grandfather and Aunt Cora
are in Austin, scouting Baptist
churches that might be available
for an hour or so on short notice.
With dozens in the phone book,
odds are they’ll be gone all day.
Hours, anyway, providing the perfect
opportunity to spend some quality
one-on-one time with Bryce.
We’ve never been quite so alone
together. His arms surround me,
and I sink into him, grateful for
his warmth. “I love you.”
And I love you.
His mouth covers
mine. His lips are soft, and his tongue
tastes of cinnamon. My heart rockets.
This kiss is somehow different than
all the others. It builds in intensity,
and with no one around to take
notice, I have no reason to slow
the swell. Bryce’s apple-rain scent
envelopes me. I gulp it in. Devour it.
Want to devour him. What sorceress
has possessed me, infusing every
nerve ending with intense desire?
SORCERY OR HORMONES
Something
has
possessed me,
and whatever it is,
it
stops
kissing Bryce. But only long
enough to say, “Come on.”
It
leads him down the hall,
into my bedroom. I think
I should stop
it
. Don’t know
if I can. Don’t know if I want to.
Autumn (me?) has no control
as
it
invites Bryce onto my bed.
He pushes me back against
my pillow. Peels away his shirt.
Unbuttons mine. Stares down
at me with love (lust) harbored
in his eyes.
Wow
, he says, before
kissing me again. Only this time,
his lips move across my neck,
down over my collarbone. To
the soft mounds beneath. I want
to say, “Wait.” But
it
won’t let me.
I can barely catch my breath, but
this time for all the right (wrong!)
reasons. My heart jackhammers
in my chest. Bryce must hear!
His lips stop traveling my torso,
long enough to encourage me
out of my jeans. His come off too,
and I might stop to fold everything
correctly, but
it
insists I just leave
our clothes heaped together
and take a good long look at Bryce.
Except for sex ed pictures, I’ve never
seen a penis before. But I’m def
seeing one now. “No,” I want
to say. But
it
reaches out. Touches
Bryce there. Likes how the skin
feels. Likes the heat. “Stop,”
I want to say, but
it
makes Autumn
(me?) do things she doesn’t know
how to do. I realize suddenly that
it
means to make her go all the way.
This is like watching a movie, only
I can’t find the remote. No way
to pause. No way to reverse.
Off go my panties. Now everything
moves slow motion. Finally I find
my voice. “Wait. I’m not sure …”
It
doesn’t let me push him away,
but
it
does let me say, “I’m a virgin.”
THAT SLOWS HIM DOWN
But he doesn’t want to stop.
Instead he becomes gentle.
You want to, don’t you?
I want to say, “Maybe not,”
but
it
maintains control,
kisses him. “Yes. I want to.”
I won’t hurt you
, he promises.
Let me make you ready.
He touches that place.
Kisses that place.
It
moans.
No, Autumn moans. No, I moan.
And I see that
it
is really me.
REALLY ME
Here with Bryce,
wanting to give
him all of me.
I’m scared.
But he has made me ready.
“I love you.”
The words spill
from my mouth
just before
a bright flash
of pain.
Breathe.
He is in me when he promises again,
And I love you.
Did it hurt?
Can I keep going?
He waits
for my answer.
“Not too much.
And yes.”
He starts to move.
Slowly at first.
Rhythmically.
I follow his lead and together
we move faster.
Into the tornado.
Rocked by an
apple-scented
maelstrom,
skin to skin
with the person I love, every vestige
of doubt vanishes
in white-hot bolts
of lightning.
No pain now.
No sense
of wrong.
Everything is perfect.
WE LIE TOGETHER, SILENT
For a while, legs knotted,
his fingers twisted in my hair.
A foreign scent lifts from our
skin. After-sex perfume.
Not altogether unpleasant.
Eventually he says,
We should
probably clean up. Ever
showered with a guy before?
For some crazy reason,
embarrassment attacks.
I’ve just gone all the way. And
suddenly I’m worried about him
seeing my naked body? “Never.”
Whether it’s the tone of my
voice or the look on my face,
he grins.
First time for everything.
The sheets are a mess, and I
am compelled to strip them
immediately. Hope OxyClean
can handle it. Meanwhile,
Bryce has started the shower.
By the time I get there,
the bathroom is rain-forest
steamy. We step into the shower
together. Hot water streams
over my bruised, used body.
Bryce picks up the soap.
You wash my back and I’ll
wash yours.
He washes more
than my back. And I do
the same for him. It’s all so
decadent, all so someone
other than me. I’d call it fairy-tale,
but it’s more like pornography.
Would you look at that! It’s
ready for more already.
You are some kind of magician.
I’m not sure how long it usually
takes for it to get ready again,
but it definitely is. I don’t think
magic has anything to do with
it. Just a good lather rub. And me.