Nora
I tickle Lotte’s neck quickly before jumping out of her bed. I kiss her forehead and whisper in her ear, “Sweet dreams, kiddo.” She shoots me a shy smile and blows me a kiss.
Holden hands me a mug of tea when I join him in the living room but I’m feeling bold tonight. I take the mug and his from him. We need a moment to just cut loose. To just have some fun. The past few weeks have flown by. Our evenings are easy and comfortable now. It’s amazing how quickly you can feel close to someone, when you cut out modern comforts. We only have each other to focus on and in a sense, it’s refreshing.
“What are you doing?” He asks.
I reach up, stretching so that my t-shirt slides up, revealing a bit of my porcelain stomach. I hear a low groan from his seat on the couch. I pull down the bottle of whiskey and pour us each a glass. Setting the glasses on the table, I smile at him over my shoulder.
“I thought we could use a night to relax.”
He takes the whiskey from me and takes it all in one shot. I sip mine. We do this for a while, quietly. After he tops off our glasses, he sets his down and reaches for me. I flinch and grow rigid as he picks up the clasp of my necklace.
“Tell me something,” he asks. He turns the clasp to the back of my neck. Goosebumps erupt down my arms.
I look into his eyes. They sparkle in the fire light. “What do you want to know?”
“Why do you flinch sometimes when I’m near you? Or blush non-stop?” I drop my eyes to the floor. He reaches out and lifts my chin. “And why do you do that? You’re so submissive.”
I shake my head. “Not submissive. Shy. Young, inexperienced, yes, but not submissive.”
He inspects me. “You aren’t shy with Lotte.”
I sigh. “That’s different,” I say.
“How? I see you, you know. How you make her laugh and smile. How you spend your own money on her to please her in town. You do things to please me, too. Why do all that and then blush or look nervous?”
I take another sip of whiskey. “I . . . had a bad experience.”
“Your parents?” he asks.
I shake my head. “With a . . . it doesn’t matter. I don’t talk about it.” And I don’t. I never told anyone what happened at the party after graduation. He pours himself another shot and takes it. I lift my cup and drain it. The whiskey burns as it goes down. Holden scoots closer to me. I can feel the tears welling in my eyes and it embarrasses me. “With a guy who was like a big brother to me.” The words come out rushed and angry.
Holden’s eyes burn in the fire glow. He looks ferocious. “Tell me what happened.” It’s a command, not a question. I stare into my empty cup. “Did he hit you?” he snarls. I’ve never heard a human snarl but that is the only word I can associate his sound with.
“No, no. Nothing like that. He um . . . I’ve never told anyone,” I admit.
I feel completely out of place. My hair’s tied back away from my face. The amount of makeup I have on is obscene. My skirt is too short for my liking and the shirt Aubry forced on me, would fit a toddler. Aub passes me a red solo cup. I scrunch up my nose at it. She pushes it toward me with more force. “I swear to God, Nora, I am going to force you to have fun if it kills you.”
“I have fun,” I whine. I do; I simply define it differently than her.
She laughs. “In public.”
I take the cup from her and frown. Aubry hooks her arm through mine and tugs me through the crowded hallway.
“Yo! Nora, what’s up?”
“Hi, Anton,” I say, as I’m pulled past him.
“Why’re you here?” Aubry asks, with an irritated tone.
“It’s a party.”
“Gross, Anton, go hang out with people your own age,” she says. I nudge her and she sighs. Aubry and her brother don’t get along well.
“I’ll see you later,” I say, while she continues pulling me alongside her. We stop, abruptly, at the sliding doors to the patio. There is an uncanny heat wave for the last week of May, but it does make being outside at night pleasurable.
“Oh, my sweet nibblets, would you look at him?” she says, when she spots Chad Berwick outside. Ever since high school, Aubry’s made it her mission to hook up with Chad. I don’t understand why, though; he was rude to her all through school and although he’s muscular, he’s not exactly the hottest or the smartest. Plus it has been a year since we graduated and college guys are much more interesting than Chad.
“Give it up, Aub. He’s a lost cause. You’re too good for him,” I say.
“I know that,” she answers. “I want him as a notch in my bedpost . . . look at those abs.” If she thought squealing was cool, she would have squealed, but Aubry Clark definitely did not think squealing was cool. I laugh at her brazenness and swat her rear end.
“Go get him, Tiger.” She puts her chin to her shoulder and gives me her best seductive face before calling out Chad’s name.
I step out onto the patio and find a plastic chair to sit in. Stars litter the navy sky.
“Wanna play asshole?” I almost jirble my beer, I’m so startled. Anton pulls a chair near me, while laughing. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I smile. “It’s okay. I was off in lala land.”
“So?” he asks.
“Oh. Asshole. I . . . don’t know how to play,” I admit feebly. Anton grins.
“I’ll teach you.”
I shrug my acquiescence. He pulls out a deck of cards and calls over a couple of other kids from his class, who all graduated a year before me, and explains the rules.
By round five, I’m drunk. I’m drunk and I suck at cards. Really suck. Anton is pretty sloshed himself and I keep thinking I see two of him. But if I close one eye, his twin goes away, so I know it’s not real.
“Nora loves words,” Anton says. He rubs my bare arm.
Some other guy laughs like a madman and yells out, Word Girl! Like I’m a superhero.
“Tell us a word for guzzle,” one of the guys says. I slonk back my beer before laughing.
“Slonk,” I state. Everyone laughs. Even me. It is a funny sounding word.
Anton looks at me with a look in his eye I can’t decipher. “What about kissable? Is there a fancy word for kissable?”
Groans from the other guys fill up the space around us.
“Oh, good one,” I say. I bite my bottom lip and think hard through the haze in my brain. “Yup. Osculable .” I hiccup. Anton leans in close to me.
“Nora, you’re osculable.”
I wrinkle my face and shake my head.
“You are. You look so pretty tonight, too.”
I slap his shoulder playfully and laugh. “Good one.”
I’ve known the Clarks since I was ten years old. Anton’s been a big brother to me almost my whole life. He appraises me for a drawn out moment. It drags on uncomfortably.
“I think you need some water.”
I think he’s right, so I nod. As he walks me into the house, I look for Aubry but have no luck. I don’t know who she’s absconded with, but if it’s with Chad, I’ll be sure to hear all about it tomorrow. I stumble behind Anton. He has my hand and he’s leading me but he’s moving so fast I feel I can’t keep up.
I tug on his hand. “Slow down.” I feel wobbly and slurry, and more outgoing but also, not in control of myself, which gives me a tinge of anxiety. Anton opens a door and ushers me into a room.
I spin around, the room blurs by my eyes in a delayed strobe light effect. “Whoa,” I say.
“Feelin’ good, right?”
I scrunch my nose up. “Feeling . . . out of it,” I tell him.
Anton steps close to me. Puts his hands on my shoulders. I stumble a step back and start to ask for the water we’re supposed to be getting, but I’m slow and when I blink, he’s all around me.
His lips kiss my neck roughly. “Stop,” I say. “What are you doing?” The incredulity in my voice obvious.
“You have no idea how pretty you are, do you?” he says and I wince. His arms, hands, lips—they’re all over me. I feel like I’m suffocating. Drowning in Anton.
“Anton, no,” I say, firmly. I push at him but he doesn’t let up. “I’m a neophyte.”
He chuckles. “I don’t know what the fuck that is, but how ‘bout this, you’ll be a nympho by the morning.” His words are garbled. Panic rises in my chest. It blossoms into a fiery heat that creeps up my neck, making it nearly impossible to breathe. I pull back and slap him. He glares at me before pushing me onto the floor.
I kick.
I scream.
I claw.
I cry.
And lastly, I give up and play dead.
Anton; acrimony, scurrilous, disreputable.
I’m pacing. Tears spill down my cheeks. I don’t know what compelled me to tell anyone, let alone Holden. He takes me by surprise as he embraces me. With an abrupt jerk, he forces my pelvis against his own. His hands slide up my body until his hands are around my slender neck. They don’t squeeze, they simply hold and keep my head tilted, so my gaze has nowhere to go but to his. “You’re safe now. I’ll kill him. I will, Nora. That should have never happened.” I swallow thickly at his impassionment. “You are beautiful. Forcing you was wrong. Put it all behind you.” He stares at me in a way that undoes me.
“I won’t hurt you. Did you hear me?” I close my eyes. “I won’t hurt you,” he says again.
He pulls me close for a provocatively deep kiss. He opens himself to me. Through touch. Through words. I feel his pain. His experiences. His heart. I don’t fight it. I want him to kiss me. To touch me. I relax into him, into my own safety and I let go. For the first time ever, I allow my body to dictate rather than my brain. I kiss him back. My lips move with his. He tastes like whiskey and mint. I become lost in the sensation of his pliable, warm lips. A whimper escapes me. The zings shooting through my body are foreign to me. But I like it. I give in. I push my body into his. His arms are strong. Sturdy, like they can protect me from harm.
We are a tangled mess of passion. He lifts me up. Carries me to my room. “Further from Lotte,” he says, as he lays me on the bed. I’m delirious with lust. Slowly, he strips off my clothes. My t-shirt. My shorts. My underwear and bra. I pull his shirt over his head. Run my hands through his hair, his beard. What am I doing? He kisses me everywhere. Anywhere. I’m consumed in the moment. It’s everything I read about in my coveted novels. He unbuckles his pants. They drop to the floor. His ever-attached key ring clanks on the floor boards. His fingers bring me so much ecstasy, I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest.
“Oh, my . . .” I can’t finish my thought when his fingers are sending an overwhelming heat through me. It builds until I think my body will implode. “Come,” he rasps. My hips buck and I orgasm. My very first non-self-inflicted orgasm. My body is wracked with shudders I can’t control. He slides over me. Above me. He’s everywhere.
“Wait,” I say and put my hands on his chest. It’s too fast. I’m not ready. Not yet. Not for this. He is everywhere. I blink rapidly. His presence makes me feel claustrophobic.
“No.” His answer upsets me. “You feel too good, Nora.”
This is my fault. I urged him on. I let him give me an orgasm. I can’t just expect him to stop because I change my mind. He said he wouldn’t hurt me. It doesn’t hurt my body. My brain hurts. I don’t want to keep going. “Please, Holden, I’ve never . . . besides Ant-”
“Shh, Nora. Relax,” he says. His green eyes look right through me. The first thrust, I cry out. It’s too hard, too fast and too much for me to make sense of. I wanted this mere moments ago. But now, it doesn’t feel right anymore. I can’t stop it. I want to stop it. I think. My body finally relaxes around him and I feel something building. I urge it away because my body is a traitor. I focus on my words.
He grunts and moves in me, on me, over me. I close my eyes and grip his biceps with my hands. I squeeze so hard I am sure he will yelp from the bite of my nails but he doesn’t. When he finishes, he rolls to the side of me. Pushes back my hair from my face. “You are so goddamned incredible,” he says. He kisses my forehead gently. I force a small smile and drop one hand off the bed to find my clothes on the floor.
As Holden dresses, he tells me how stunning I am. How much I mean to Lotte and him. He kisses my cheek, then leaves. I pull the blankets over me and cry. Did I cause this? Is that what happened with Anton, too? I did want it. I was enjoying it, until I wasn’t. I don’t know what’s up or down or right or wrong. Is there a line I crossed, where it’s impossible to say no? He said he wouldn’t hurt me. It didn’t exactly hurt. Not physically anyway.
When I sleep, I see Anton’s face.