Four and a half years earlier
“I THINK YOUR sister is narcoleptic.”
My sister’s boyfriend’s voice broke my train of thought, but any distraction from these incoming freshman assignments for high school was welcomed. I pulled the pen cap from where it was clenched between my teeth.
“Abby fell asleep again?” I sat up straighter on the bed and moved the books off my lap. Cupping my fingers into my neckline, I tugged up, adjusting my shirt that—thanks to late puberty—didn’t quite sit the same anymore.
Damon’s eyes flicked to the swell of my newly blossomed breasts. I squirmed a little, blushing, unsure of how to handle that kind of attention. Deciding to pretend like I didn’t notice, I pressed my palms behind me and leaned back, my legs still crisscrossed in front of me.
Damon walked farther into my room, stretching his arms above his head. “She falls asleep every damn afternoon.”
I rolled my eyes. “So go wake her up.” I laughed through my words.
Damon stood at the foot of my bed, eyeing me—his brown hair tousled and lying lazily over his forehead, his thumb hooked into the belt loop of his khakis. Lately, I had been noticing a change in the way he looked at me—like he was finally seeing me for the first time. I knew he was off limits, but being noticed by someone older—and not in that kid-sister type of way—made my blood pump a little faster.
Damon placed his knee on the edge of the bed before his full weight dipped it down. He picked at the corner of my marble notebook. “It’s okay. I’ve been meaning to talk to you anyway.”
My eyebrows knitted together. “Talk to me?” Not that Damon ever ignored me, but he didn’t go out of his way to speak to me, especially not privately.
“Yes, talk to you. Why is that so surprising?” He nudged his shoulder with mine, rocking me to the side. His familiar chocolate-brown eyes smiled along with his lips, reminding me that Damon was almost family, around for as long as I could remember.
“Well, because . . . I don’t know. I’m always forcing you guys to pay attention to me.” My chest swelled a little, feeling as though maybe the hands of time were changing and I would finally be included with him and my sister more.
“Trust me, beautiful, I’ve been paying attention.” He licked his lips, and his smile faltered, bringing a strange sense of insecurity with it which swiped away some of that short-lived pride that I was feeling.
Something in his eyes, or his glance below my neck for the second time, sent warmth to my cheeks. I covered them, not wanting him to see the change in color, and he laughed again.
“You’re cute.” He paused, studying my face some more before sitting up straighter, becoming serious. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
I stared at him, totally confused.
He scooted closer to me on the bed, his eyes looking as though he were genuinely worried about something. “You’re starting high school, Eva. A small fish. Sure, Abby and I are there, but we’re upperclassmen. We have important things going on, planning for college and all. We won’t always be there to protect you.” The corner of his lip puckered in sympathy as his eyes softened.
I didn’t need a reminder of what next week would bring. I was dreading walking through those doors, getting knocked off the pedestal I had stood on all last year, being the ‘big fish’ as he called it. Just one more thing to worry about.
I expelled a nervous half-laugh, trying to conceal my budding anxiety. “Protect me? From what?”
Damon merely studied me once again, then ignored my question. “You ever been kissed, beautiful?”
He’d been calling me that a lot recently. Last week after Abby had gone inside, he had called me that when he’d kissed me goodbye. He’d misdirected his lips, and they’d landed at the corner of my mouth rather than my cheek. When my breath caught, he’d left them there for a second before he pulled back with a wolfish grin, floating an apology my way.
“Sure,” I scoffed with a wave. “Jace kisses me all the time.”
Damon leaned a little closer. “I know he’s gay, Eva.” His whisper whisked over my flesh, and I sat up straighter, pinpricks erupting along my suddenly sensitized skin. His gaze flicked to my lips before returning to my eyes. “I’m not talking about a best friend’s kiss.”
I didn’t know what his deal was, but I was starting to feel uncomfortable. I swallowed, trying to figure out how to go about this. I knew what he meant, and no, I hadn’t kissed anyone yet, but I wouldn’t admit it. I mean, who went to high school never having been kissed? Losers, that was who. “I know what you’re talking about. I’m not a prude.”
His voice was soft but deliberate. “That’s just it. I think you are.” His eyes dragged up to mine slowly, showcasing humor rather than empathy for his rude statement.
“Real nice, Damon.” I scrunched up my face and reached for my pen.
His hand landed on my knee, and I halted, my eyes following it. He’s acting so strange.
Another nervous laugh escaped my lips as I watched his index finger stroke in a tight circle. He kept touching me in these ways lately—ways that felt so different from before. When we were younger, he would put me in headlocks and rub noogies into my scalp with his knuckles. Lately, his touches were softer, lingered a little longer.
He tilted his head, his face pulled into the center. “I just keep thinking how you’re gonna be around all these older guys now. I don’t want you to be taken advantage of.” He straightened, focusing on my face. “It would kill me to know they were saying things behind your back because you didn’t know what you were doing. Making fun of you.” He preached his truth, speaking to my fears. “Kids can be cruel, Eva.”
My eyes widened. I opened my mouth, then closed it, heat slicing my face with blooming embarrassment. Not wanting to admit to my insecurities, I frowned instead, crossing my arms over my chest. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
The corner of his mouth quirked, a twitch so slight I almost missed it. Softening, he took my wrists and lowered them to my lap, his hands resting on my upper thighs. My gaze fell to the gesture. “I’m just being honest.” He shrugged. “Jeez, Eva—I’ve known you since I can remember. It’s only right I look out for you.”
“I’m sure I’ll be all right.” I shrugged him off, my cheeks glowing with humiliation. I just wanted him to drop this whole topic and get out of my room.
“Really?” He settled closer to me once again and moved his lips to my ear, lowering his voice. “So if I kissed you right now, you would know what to do? How to reciprocate?”
Hot waves flooded my belly, churning and rolling as my heart rate sped to a rapid little tapping beneath my ribs. What the hell is his deal?
“Damon, back off of me.” I laughed, playing off my jitters and nudging him on the shoulder. That didn’t work, though, because it only rocked him back into me, his chuckle landing on my cheek.
“See how immature you are? Playing baby games when I’m trying to be serious?”
I straightened my spine, determined to prove to him that I wasn’t, but he was so close—too close—and I could barely think. “I’m not playing games.”
He sobered. “Then show me.” His face was stoic, as though he was talking about the weather when he spoke the next two words that would change my life. “Kiss me.”
I blinked once, twice, three times. He can’t be serious. When I didn’t respond, he reached over and cleaned a dab of lint from my thigh. He studied my face and moved closer so our knees were touching, then placed his palm on the left side of my leg, leaning into my ear.
“Sometimes friends do favors for other friends, but they don’t ever say anything.” He pulled his head back and stared at my lips. “Get what I’m saying?”
I wanted to say yes. I searched my mind for what he could mean, but I had no clue what he was talking about. He couldn’t possibly be implying . . .
Embarrassed, I tucked my hair behind my ear and looked down at my lap, fiddling with my fingers.
“I didn’t think so.” He lifted my chin. “Everyone experiments—uses their closest friend as somewhat of a trial before the real thing. Abby had me, but who do you have? Jace? We all know which way he swings.” He trailed a finger along my jaw. “You need me, beautiful.”
I jerked my chin away, suddenly back in the moment. “Damon, I can’t do that. You’re like my brother.”
His face sharpened, and I thought I might’ve hurt his feelings. I opened my mouth to apologize when his chin lifted, and a nonchalance settled over his features. “I’m not really your brother, Eva.” He rolled his eyes, making me feel small again. When they came back to find me once more, his gaze lacked its usual friendly banter. An irritation bloomed there instead, and a hot film coated my insides.
“And don’t act like I’m ugly or something. You could do far worse.”
I lowered my voice, feeling young and insecure all over again, confusion swarming my brain, clouding my reasoning. “I didn’t say you were ugly, but it’s still kind of gross.” I scrunched up my nose, not understanding why he didn’t get how weird that would be.
Regaining his calm composure, he brushed my lower lip with the pad of his thumb, making the warm heat return, and lowered his voice as his eyes trained on his finger. “I promise, I won’t make it gross. Just enjoy it. Relax. Let me do this for you.” His brown eyes flicked back to mine, and he seemed anxious for my response as he took my chin between his fingers and tipped my head back.
My eyes widened. I was nervous enough about high school. The thought of being laughed at made me feel all hot inside, and not in a good way. “But you’re Abby’s boyfriend.”
He paused. “Then don’t tell her.”
My line of sight snapped up to meet his matter-of-fact tone. His head was cocked to the side, his face unfazed. My forehead puckered, anger crawling up my neck. Abby was my sister. We didn’t have secrets. No way was I going behind her back like this. I scooted away from him.
“It’s just a kiss, Eva.” He rolled his eyes. “Do you really think she’d care about a kiss?” His scoff was enough to label me a baby once again.
Wouldn’t she? I picked at the edges of my hair, my mind reeling with different scenarios. Do I go through with this and see what it was like with someone I trusted? Do I tell Abby? Keep it from her? Damon inched closer again, and anxiety pumped heavy in my veins. He was too close to me, pushing too hard. I needed time to think. Space.
I fidgeted, suddenly able to feel my sister’s absence.
But Damon relaxed once again, peeling back some of the pressure I felt constricting my bed that suddenly felt smaller than a double. A reassuring smile slid across his face. “I was just saying, if it makes you feel better, I’ll agree not to tell her as long as you do.” His eyes sparkled with an excitement I couldn’t quite place before he rushed to add, “I mean, you wouldn’t want to go to school without any experience, would you? And you trust me, right? You know I would never hurt you. It would be our little secret.” He bopped me on the nose as though this were any other run-of-the-mill question.
Suddenly it didn’t feel like such a ludicrous idea. What could be the harm in a kiss? She would never know, and I wouldn’t have to feel like an inexperienced child anymore. Something continued to tug at me, telling me this was wrong, but the bands of constraint that I originally felt at his proposition were loosening. Besides, I believed him. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.
“Wha—what do I have to do?” I swallowed, feeling nervous.
The corner of his mouth hitched into a smirk. “Good girl. First, I need you to say you want it. You want this, right? I’m not forcing you or anything?” He dipped his head and looked up at me, trying to will the correct answer from my lips.
No. Not really. But if everyone does this . . .
I wrapped my finger around one of my curls, toying with it to ease my nerves. Then . . .
I nodded.
His smile widened, distracting me as his hand snaked around my hip, tugging me to him, forcing our noses to nearly collide. “Just don’t forget.” His eyes sparkled, alight with excitement the way a cat regards a mouse. “This is our little secret. I won’t tell anyone you wanted it if you don’t tell anyone it happened.” It was the first time someone’s face had been so close to mine that I could actually smell their breath. His smelled of the grilled cheese sandwich Abby had made him. And cream soda.
My heart rate took off as his gaze dropped to my lips as though he was coveting them. The muscles in my belly sucked in, bringing with it a gulp of air.
What am I doing?
He brought his hand around the back of my neck, securing me so I couldn’t change my mind. Everything became real in an instant, and I was paralyzed, staring into salivating brown eyes.
A protest rose in my throat—my mind changing as a prickly sheath slithered over my skin at having him so close. His eyelids closed just as the first brush of his lips met my own, stealing my objection, and I shivered, noticing each pant that left my dry mouth.
Fairy tales.
Bedtime stories.
From the very beginning, we’re read stories of princes and of love’s first kiss. The meaningful connection and the heartfelt pitter-patter of being swept off your feet and finding your happily ever after. When you picture it, the skip of your heart is coated with anticipation and curiosity. With butterflies and a giddy-anxiousness that rises in a wave and floods in a gentle heat, warming your belly.
This didn’t feel like that.
I had always imagined my first kiss would be special. Beautiful. There was that word again—the irony of it not lost on me.
A dirty sensation crawled over me as he licked my bottom lip—probing, urging mine to part and something inside me triggered, warning bells cautioning me that this was wrong. I tried to relax, will it away, but I just couldn’t concentrate. Not when his squishy, slimy tongue was invading me. It was a weird softness that I wasn’t sure I could get used to, and it was complicated, trying to figure out how to breathe through my nose with someone sharing my air.
He moaned into my mouth and rubbed his tongue along mine, going deeper as his fingers tightened on the back of my neck, and then I felt the edges of his fingertips softly exploring my collarbone. Nervous queasiness bloomed inside of me. I wanted to tell him to stop, but I didn’t want to seem like a baby.
But then—
His hands dropped lower.
With a quick twist of his fingers, he popped open the few buttons at the top of my shirt, exposing the delicate satin of my bra. Instinctively, I grabbed the two edges and fastened it closed as best as I could, but I still seemed to be spilling out of the center.
“Hey!” I protested, feeling embarrassed. My chest heaved, relieved to be flooded with clean air but also straining through the narrow entryway caused by the onslaught of nerves.
Staring at my chest, he swallowed hard, and I got the feeling this wasn’t entirely for my benefit. But he played it cool, bringing his gaze back to my face with a laugh, covering my hand with his.
I twisted my shoulder back, flicking him off. “What’s with unbuttoning my shirt?” I struggled hastily to fit the buttons back into their holes.
Damon took my fingers in his and moved my hands to my lap, leaving me bare and self-conscious. “Do you really think people just make out all day long?” He laughed through his nose, clearly jabbing fun at me.
Yes? I thought, but all I could manage was a blinking stare.
Damon huffed. “See, this is what I mean.” The tenderness was back in his voice, his eyes coaxing me to see the error of my reaction. “You’re too nice. Too naïve. Would I ever do anything to hurt you?” His eyebrows pulled in, and he looked offended.
I gulped. Would he? An unease that I couldn’t place sat heavy over me, but this was Damon. “No, I guess not.” I relaxed a little.
“You need to accept how beautiful you are, Eva. Whoever you wind up with is going to want to enjoy you. They’re not going to want to be with a squeamish child.” He rolled his eyes, and I shrunk a bit more, feeling stupid and inexperienced. I couldn’t stand it.
“Now, come on. Judging by that last kiss, you’re going to need lots of practice.” He knotted his fingers into the hair at the back of my head and pulled me toward him once again. The dominance in his grip was unmistakable, even though I’d never experienced anything like that before. It stopped me cold, taking away my ability to make my own choices. He lingered inches from my face, his domineering eyes conveying a message to give in to what was happening, before he covered my mouth with his, more demanding than before.
On instinct, my lips puckered and he bit them, squeezing my hair a bit harder. Then he licked my lips, gentler, coercing me to open them. I just wanted this to be over, even if it meant being labeled a prude. I was starting to feel like my skin was too tight having him this close to me. It was hard to breathe, but I forced my tongue to try and follow his movements.
Until his strokes became more desperate.
Grazing down, his fingers explored until my breast was covered by a foreign hand for the first time in my life. I broke the kiss again, and my lips parted with a gasp.
“Damon, what’re you—”
He slipped his thumb inside my mouth, its taste a bit dirty as it rested on my tongue. “Shhh . . . So beautiful,” he whispered on a moan, securing my neck once again and bringing me back to him.
This time, when the circle of his mouth covered mine, it felt different. There was no room for my breath in the tiny sliver of space, and I could feel my lips object beneath his, the terse lines of mine as my tongue stopped trying to keep up and started trying to figure out how to make him stop and still save face. Helplessness began to funnel into my core like an hourglass, the first few grains that would add up and bury me if it trickled in long enough.
His weight crept up on me, forcing my back to the mattress. “You said kiss, Damon. I didn’t say yes to this,” I spoke around his mouth, panic creeping up my throat, closing it off.
Fully blanketing me, his hardness made itself known on my thigh.
I’m gonna be sick.
“Say yes, Eva. Let me show you.” He pushed a soft kiss to my mouth, still trying to portray sincerity through his actions, but he was having trouble holding back.
That kiss was the last gentle gesture he would offer that afternoon.
“But . . .” The word was garbled under the pressure of his lips, and I knew his request was merely rhetorical. He didn’t care about my response, the vibrations coming off him told me so.
“You said you wanted this. Don’t be a tease,” he spat. “That’s worse than being labeled a slut.” The glisten of my saliva on his lips, the lips I agreed to kiss, stopped me cold.
Tease? Slut? Is that what I am? I did say yes. I said yes. And now I can’t say no.
My mind raced with what that would mean, but I didn’t have time to make sense of it. His finger slid to the edge of my bra and then tugged down, causing my breast to tumble out of the thin material. I tried to grab for it, but he was quick to push further, bearing his weight onto my chest.
I shoved up, wanting this to end, needing him to stop like I needed air. Realization that he had no intention of ceasing swept in hard and fast, taking my breath away at the same speed and I struggled to gain oxygen. “Get off of me,” I objected, trying to knock him side to side, but he grabbed both of my much smaller wrists and pinned them above my head, pushing them into the mattress.
His whole demeanor had changed. He looked starved for my skin, and the spirals in his irises, the promise beneath them that he wasn’t leaving unsatisfied freaked me into silence, tunneling me into shock.
When he lifted for a moment to shift, I found one more protest buried deep inside my body which felt as though it were drifting away from me. “Da—” But his thumb slid back into my mouth, silencing my tongue, pulling down my jaw.
His wet thumb dragged along my cheek as he hovered over the shell of my ear, his breath settling over it on a light whisper. “Shhh. She’ll hear you.”
My blood ran cold, prickling through my veins.
Fear.
I drew my bottom lip between my teeth and bit down as hard as I could, my nostrils flaring, trying to keep the hot flood of tears from my eyes. One thousand thoughts spiraled in a confusing cyclone as I tried to make sense of what was happening.
Shhh. She’ll hear you.
I cringed, feeling as though a thousand tiny insect legs were scampering over me.
Help me.
Pinching my eyes shut, I felt the pool of water sitting between my lashes as I buried the bad feeling I had. I don’t want to do this. My soul cried, spurts of air entered and exited my parted lips on anxious puffs.
But I was helpless. And too far gone. My sister’s boyfriend was on top of me. Kissing me. Touching me in places that no one had ever seen. The breasts that, until this moment I’d been so proud of, felt dirty and cheap as he squeezed and poked at them, drooling over their weight, and it was my fault it was happening. I couldn’t say a word. She’ll hear you.
Gone was the boy next door, the one I knew so well. That had helped me grow up.
Helped me grow up. I almost laughed at that irony. The person on top of me right now was totally foreign to me. Pushy and demanding. I didn’t like anything he was doing, but for some reason, I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t speak. Unable to watch, I looked up at the ceiling blinking away my emotions and gnawing my bottom lip.
I’ve already gone too far.
They would all be so mad at me. Just get through it and then it’ll be over. I would never think about it again. Never talk about it—ever.
His weight dragged down my body, my shorts and underwear gliding down my legs, taking with it an exposed shiver. An uninhibited smile adorned his sly features as he shook the buckle of his belt loose, a jingle that I would hear in my nightmares for the rest of my life. His face pinched with longing, and I wondered briefly what he was thinking, but his next words pinned me down, slamming what remained of my adolescence into the coiled springs beneath me.
“Hold on tight, beautiful. You’re about to become a woman.”
No. No, no, no.
How had so much changed so fast? My body was jostled beneath his efforts, and all I did was flop around like a fish out of water. His prey, ripe for the taking.
But still, I didn’t say a word.
Blackness crept in, washing away the light of the room. My body felt light and airy even though the pressure on top of it was all consuming—the sounds, the moans, the rustling and rubbing, drifting into a muffled fog. His movements seemed to be coming from some far off place, but I couldn’t focus on them completely—his tongue swiping at random points to my breasts and torso, but I was shutting down. Going outside myself somewhere.
“Beautiful,” he dragged out on a whisper, and I shuddered at the first breach of my virgin barrier.
Inside, I wept as Damon obliterated any hopes for a happily ever after. Or a Prince Charming. Each push was like an ice pick, shattering the young girl I was. Tears of anger, grief, guilt, fear, they all streamed down my face in a silent parade. And when it became too much, the final pieces of me shut down completely.
I turned my face away from his to find Mary, the stuffed lamb Abby had given me to keep me safe. To take away bad thoughts. I focused harder on her fleecy fur, turning what was left of my reality to a grayed-out darkness. I started chanting, wishing she could take me away, back to a time of innocence.
Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb . . .