THIRTEEN

 

J A N U A R Y,  L A S T   Y E A R

 

THE PAST TWOweeks haven't been perfect, but they've had their good side. Ever since Robin and I worked things out he's been treating me like a priceless treasure. I've been spending a lot of time with him, some with the girls, and not enough with Cam. That bugs me, but I'm Robin's girlfriend and I know he should be my priority. And really, he is. And Cam is busy anyway, too. He's been spending more time with Missy, which pisses off Lacey, but it's better that way. If he and Lacey turned into something more I think it would be weird.

I still can't believe Robin loves me, but he does. He says it all the time, and shows it even more. He calls me his girlfriend now all the time, too, and he always has an arm around me or some other possessive hold, even in school, where he used to be less public with his affection. It's like he wants everyone to know that I'm his. And he's mine.

The only thing is, I'm still no closer to being ready to have sex with him. Even with the love. And I still don't know why. He got real frustrated with me about it last weekend. We argued, but the thing is, I don't even really blame him. He put my hand on him, and I tried to pull it away, but he told me that if I wasn't going to sleep with him yet, and I didn't want anyone else touching him, then I needed to take care of him.

I protested, but he took out his erection anyway, and wouldn't let go of my hand. He made it like he was showing me what to do, but really he was doing it himself with my hand, and he wouldn't let go until he was finished. I was upset, but after he just kept telling me how much he loved me and how good I'd made him feel, and I realized it really wasn't that bad. I was making a big deal out of nothing. True, I hadn't wanted to do it, but he didn't hurt me, not really - just my hand a little.

It wasn't so awful. What happened on Monday was worse. We were making out in his car and he'd climbed over the console so he was on top of me. He's done it many times, and usually he just gets frustrated with me and stops it before it gets out of hand. His words. He says if he gets too worked up, he won't be able to stop it. That's how it works with guys, I guess. Cam never told me anything like that, and he's told me plenty, but I guess it was never my business with him. Cam wasn't my boyfriend.

But Monday was different. Robin held my wrists again. He hadn't done that since that first night after the lake party, but he did it again. The thing is, when he holds my hands like that, I can't push his other hand away when he's doing something I don't like. And when I try to tell him to stop, he's so busy kissing me, and so forcefully too, that he can't understand what I'm saying. He pushed his hand under my skirt, and when I squirmed to try and get him to stop, I guess he took it as a sign that I was liking it, because he pushed his fingers into my underwear and then pushed one inside me.

It hurt. It hurt a lot, and he wouldn't stop until I managed to get a hand free and smack him.

I hadn't meant to smack him, I just wanted him to hear me - that I wanted him to stop. And he did stop then, but he was so mad that I'd hit him that that's what our argument became about. Robin was so fired up that for a few moments, I really thought he might hit me back. He punched the dashboard instead.

Repeatedly.

It was kind of scary, but he soon calmed down. I promised I'd never hit him again.

But the rest of the week has been great. He's picked me up every morning and driven me to school, and we've hung out afterwards every day as well. Yesterday Robin signed his contract with UFL, to communal fanfare, and Marcus is throwing a party tonight to celebrate since his parents are in Miami for the weekend.

I leave my jeep at home and wait for Robin to pick me up. We drop my weekend bag off at his parent's house before heading to the party. Robin lets me drive. He's making a statement by having me pull up to the party driving his car. It's the same statement he's been making everywhere and to everyone he could for the past two weeks. That I'm something special to him, his girl, and it makes me feel special.

When Robin starts on his third beer I stop sipping my first. Looks like I'll be driving home as well. I don't mind really, I don't especially want to drink, but I prefer when Robin doesn't either. I don't want to nag him, so I say nothing. It's strange - when he has one or two beers, he's fine. Great even. He's fun, and flirty, affectionate, and sweet. But for some reason, I've noticed that once he has beer number four, he starts acting different. He's more possessive, and not in a good way. Unreasonably jealous, too.

I hope he stops drinking soon.

I see Cam over in the corner of the crowded living room, sipping a beer and talking to some girl I don't recognize. She must be a freshman. I walk over to say hi and notice his hand is in her back pocket. I guess he and Missy are still just messing around if he's grabbing other girls' asses at parties.

"Rory girl!" he greets me, freeing his previously occupied hand.

I kiss his cheek. "Hey Cam. Didn't know you'd be here," I murmur. It's strange. He hasn't been at the last few parties, and I honestly thought it was because he was busy with Missy. But the weirdest part about the whole thing is that Cam and I don't just run into each other. We've always been in communication - known where the other was going to be, and usually, we'd go places together.

I guess everything is different now, and the thought unnerves me. I know it's normal, but it doesn't feel right. In fact, it feels all wrong.

"Why would you?" Cam replies and I glare at him, surprised by the uncharacteristic dig. Cam sighs. "Sorry, Ror, I didn't mean that."

I offer him a faint smile, because I know this is all hard on him, too. "You gonna introduce me to your friend?" I ask.

"This is Laura. Laura, this is my best friend, Rory," he says, shooting me his signature crooked grin.

"You're Rob Forbes's girlfriend, aren't you?" she asks excitedly.

I nod as Cam rolls his eyes.

"My daddy says he's gonna play in the NFL after college!"

I give her a cursory smile. "So is your date here," I reply, gesturing at Cam, who rolls his eyes again. He could. If it was what he wanted, but I know Cam has no interest in playing pro ball.

"She ain't my date," Cam drawls through his bad-boy smile. "She's just gonna keep me company if I get a little lonely later, ain't that right Laura?"

Laura blushes and seems at loss for words. I punch Cam in the arm. He knows better than to treat girls like that, even if they know the score.

I excuse myself to go find some friends and end up spending most of the evening with Lacey and Courtney. Emmers is off somewhere hooking up with Chip, and I'm told Stella went off with some seniors to smoke a joint out back. Robin intermittently makes his way over to steal a kiss before rejoining his boys.

A few hours later it's time to leave. I stand in the front yard with Lacey and Robin, looking around for Cam to say goodbye.

He comes up behind me. "Lookin' for me, Rory girl?"

"Hey! How'd you know? We're just leavin', I just wanted to say 'bye." I say.

Cam half smiles and pulls me in for a hug, squeezing tight. "You're drivin', right?" he asks. Clearly he's noticed Robin's alcohol consumption. But then, he's always noticing everything.

I nod.

"Goodnight, Rory girl," he murmurs, planting a quick kiss on my cheek before pulling away.

"Night, Cam. Love you," I reply.

"Love you, too, Ror. Night Lacey. Forbes," he mutters coolly before walking off.

Robin narrows his eyes at him, but I ignore it and climb into the driver's seat. On the drive home Lacey complains about Cam's new friend, Laura, while I pretend to listen. Robin is uncharacteristically quiet, and I think maybe he's had too much to drink and he just needs to get to bed and pass out.

I glance over at him, and he's just looking pensively out the window. He doesn't look like he's about to pass out, which is good, because Lacey and I would have some time of it trying to get him up to his room if he did.

When we get to the house, Robin goes right to his bedroom without kissing me goodnight. Lacey goes to hers, and I just head upstairs, confused by Robin's mood. He always kisses me goodnight. Especially when I stay over. Even if he ends up coming upstairs to kiss me again later.

I'm exhausted when I crawl into bed wearing only an overlong Red Hot Chili Peppers concert tee that falls off my shoulder since I forgot to pack the shorts I usually sleep in. I consider going to ask Robin to borrow a pair of boxers, but think better of it.

I close my eyes, but sleep doesn't come. I'm thinking about things too much. Robin loves me. I heard him say I'm the kind of girl he'd marry, but does that mean he wants to marry me someday? Or just a girl like me? I know I'm too young to be thinking about this, but it's Robin's own words that put it in my head. It gives me pleasure to think he would take our relationship so seriously, but then, it also frightens me. If I'm honest with myself, I'm not sure I would want to marry Robin, and I'm grateful it's not a decision I'll have to make any time in the near future.

These are all things that I've worried over for weeks, but tonight a new thought concerns me. The moment I saw Cam with that girl, Laura, I had the strangest feeling. Jealousy. I don't know where it came from, and I shoved it away the moment I recognized it, and yet... when he brushed her off after I'd called her his date... I also felt relief. Even if I admonished him over it. Surely it's just a result of missing my best friend, but still, it unsettles me.

My door swings open and hits the opposite wall with a loud bang. I sit up in bed. I'm used to Robin creeping up here when I stay over, but he's usually more quiet about it. Anyway, no one can hear us up on the third floor.

"Robin?" I whisper.

He stalks over and sits on the edge of the bed, facing the door. He's not looking at me. In fact, he hasn't looked at me since we left the party.

"Is everything okay?" I ask.

"I love you, Rory," he says.

"I know, I-"

"Only you."

"I, uh, know..." I have no idea where he's going with this.

"You hear me tellin' other girls I love 'em?" he asks, finally turning to meet my gaze.

I crawl over to him and sit back on my heels. "Of course not, Robin, what-"

"You think I should have to listen to you tellin' Foster you fuckin' love him?" His voice is too low, too soft.

That's what this is about? That I said "love you" to Cam? "It's different, Robin. He's my best friend."

"Yeah? And Marcus and Billy are my best friends, but I don't go around tellin' them I love 'em all the damn time."

I bring my hand to his cheek and he grabs it and holds it there, turning into my touch. "I love you, Robin. I love Cam, too, but it's different. It's like... you can tell Lacey you love her, can't you?" I try to make him see sense.

Robin moves. I'm flung onto my back and he hovers over me, holding my hands on either side of my head with our fingers laced. He kisses me, and it's a passionate, possessive kiss. I kiss him back. He's jealous. He's jealous a lot, and it should bother me, but the thought that he's insecure, about me... there's something sweet about it. He really cares about me - he loves me.

Robin trails kisses across my jaw. "I" kiss, "don't wanna fuck" kiss, "my sister," he mutters, continuing down my neck.

I giggle. "I sure hope not!" I tease.

Robin playfully nips at my collar bone in response, and I giggle again. He looks meaningfully down at me. "He wants you, sweetheart."

I shake my head. It's an old argument and neither of us ever concedes, but he just doesn't get that Cam and I can love each other and not want each other.

"He does. But he can't have you. Because you're fuckin' mine," Robin growls. He kisses me roughly, licking and sucking. His hand makes its way over my shirt to my breast. I don't bother pushing it away. I'd rather just kiss, but this seems the least of any evils. When it starts sliding its way down, I grab it. I know he wants to touch me under my shirt, but I'm not wearing a bra or shorts. He wrests his hand out of my grip and starts fondling my chest again. His lips make their way down my neck and across my exposed shoulder. When he starts moving down to push under my shirt again, I take his hand again.

Robin growls and grabs both of my wrists with one hand.

"Rob-" I say, but his mouth is vigorously back on mine, his tongue frantic in my mouth. My hands are pinned above my head and his full body weight grinds against me. "Robin," I plead, but my plea is swallowed by his groan.

His free hand roughly shoves my tee shirt all the way up so I'm bare from my chest down except for my panties.

I start to panic. "Stop! Please!" I cry, but it's muffled, my body completely enveloped in his. My eyes fill with tears, but Robin doesn't notice. He shoves his free hand into my panties and starts rubbing. I try to cry out for mercy again, but all that comes out is the wordless sound of my panicked voice. He lets out another groan as he pushes one finger inside of me and I scream, but again, most of its punch dies in his mouth. I can't catch my breath, and Robin's practically panting.

I bite him.

"My girl likes it rough," he growls, and he kisses me even harder. He finally releases my wrists, but suddenly he's moving with such speed and brutality that my arms aren't free anyway, and I can do nothing but cry and try to buck him off of me.

Robin start to tug down my panties, but I twist from side to side, and with a frustrated growl, he rips right through the thin cotton and tosses them aside.

His movements are forceful and savage, and I can barely register them through my sobs. He yanks my legs apart and I realize he's shoved down his flannel pajama bottoms when I feel his erection probing me where his finger had just been.

"Please stop!" I sob pathetically, but Robin is past excitement, past aggression, and it's like he can't even hear me. Like he's in his own world.

I'm paralyzed with terror. I know what's about to happen and I've no idea how to stop it.

With no fanfare whatsoever, Robin starts to push inside me, but he doesn't get anywhere.

"So tight," he grunts.

"No, Robin, please!" I sob again.

He keeps going. With another growl, he increases his pressure and thrusts all the way into me. There's a sharp stinging sensation and I scream as he groans through my unimaginable pain. Robin stills for a moment before he starts thrusting violently, in and out of me, in a burning rhythm.

"So fuckin' tight. So hot. My girl is so fuckin' hot, so tight." His voice rumbles amorously, his hot breath drowning my face, my mouth. He continues his mantra about how tight and hot I am, pausing only to grunt and moan.

I am completely frozen. I am being punished, I think to myself. This is a punishment.

Unfathomably, I relinquish my fight. I try not to think about the searing burn between my legs. I just want it to be over. Robin has invaded every part of my body; he's just everywhere, in absolute control of me. But he can't control my mind. And my mind wages its own defense.

I think about how Robin was upset that Cam and I say "I love you" to each other. I think how different that love is from what Robin offers me.

Cam. He is what protects me, even now, even as my body is abused and pummeled against my will by someone who claims to love me.

I think of when Cam and I were eight years old. His father had passed away suddenly just a few months earlier, and I'd spent every waking moment with him since it happened. I'd been sleeping over in his bed with him for months when I finally convinced him to go out to the Memorial Day street fair. We'd walked through the park that starts at the end of our block, and Cam was finally having a good day. He was smiling, laughing. We'd just gotten ice cream when a wasp started buzzing around me. I was never afraid of them, being a tomboy and all, I'd subscribed to the notion that it wouldn't bother me if I didn't bother it. But I was holding an ice cream cone, and the wasp had its own agenda.

I got stung. It was the first time I'd ever been stung, and God how it hurt. But I gritted my teeth and choked back my tears. I was desperate for Cam not to realize what'd happened - desperate not to ruin the first day he'd seemed to be having any kind of fun since his dad died. An hour passed before he started questioning how quiet I was being, how unlike myself. Eventually he caught me swiping at a rogue tear when I thought he wasn't looking, and demanded I tell him what was wrong.

So I did.

Cam was horrified I'd tried to hide it. He grabbed my uninjured hand and led me back to his house, where he held an ice pack to my affected wrist, all the while distracting me with some story he'd made up. He was always making up stories. He still is. He writes them down in his journal, and sometimes he lets me read them. He wants to be a writer, and he will. He'll be a great writer. I tease him about being a football player, tell him he's going to be stuck playing wide receiver for the Dolphins, but while he may ride football through school, I've no doubt he'll end up writing the next great American novel.

Cam's story distracted me from my pain that day. And he took care of me, when I'd been the one trying to take care of him. And the truth is, he's been doing it ever since.

I curl my right hand - the hand that was stung by that damned wasp all those years ago - and dig my nails into my palm as hard as I can. I must be drawing blood, but it's all I can think of to do to distract from the scorching pain between my legs.

I've lost all concept of time, and though it's felt like hours, it may have only been a few minutes. But eventually Robin stills and his mantra ends. All that is left is his dead weight on top of me, and the sound of his panting breath as he starts to calm.

Before I even realize he's moved again, Robin is on his back, hauling me into his side. He curls an arm around me until I'm lying on his chest, limp and wordless and breathless. He strokes my back with a tenderness that belies the act that preceded it, still oblivious to the endless flow of my tears. I feel wetness seeping out of me elsewhere, too. I know what it is, and it makes my stomach roll with nausea and dread. He didn't use protection.

Minutes crawl by, until eventually Robin sighs and kisses my hair. "That was so good, sweetheart. So damn good," he murmurs.  

I whimper and choke back a sob, causing him to finally look at my face.  

"Oh, darlin', no," he whispers, brushing my tears away with his knuckles. He rolls me onto my back, and part of me worries he might just do it again, but I'm boneless. I have no fight left in me. None.

Supporting himself on one elbow, he settles on his side and looks down at me. He pulls my tee shirt back down to cover me, but I don't lift to help him, and the hem bunches around my hips. I no longer care. I close my eyes as he wipes away more tears. I can't bring myself to meet his gaze.

"I know, sweetheart. I know," he says soothingly, like he's trying to console me.

What the hell is it he knows?

"It's supposed to hurt your first time, you know that, right? I tried to go easy, but you're so hot, darlin', you feel so damn good. You have no idea. So good," he says again. "I got carried away, but it's impossible not to with you, you know?"

I don't reply. I don't make a sound other than my sniffling.

"But it woulda hurt no matter what. Your first time. It'll hurt less next time, I promise. I'll make you feel real good, sweetheart."

He must register my horror at his reference to "next time", because he shakes his head with a chuckle. A fucking chuckle!

"Not now, darlin'. Don't worry, I know you need some recovery time. You'll feel sore, but don't worry, that's normal."   

Normal.

None of what just happened feels normal. I'm so confused. What Robin just did was awful, so why is he acting like it's all okay? Like we're a normal couple who just had sex for the first time? Are we?

Robin kisses me softly on my lips. I just stare at him as he smiles down at me.

"Let me get you cleaned up." He hops out of bed, grinning like he's just won the lottery as he practically skips into the en-suite bathroom. He's pulled his pajama pants back up, and I realize he never fully removed them at all.

I hear him run the sink, and before I can gather even a single rational thought, he's back with a warm, wet, washcloth and he's running it gently between my thighs. And I let him.

"There, all better." He gives me another kiss and heads back to the bathroom to dispose of the washcloth.  

All better? I think incredulously.

Robin climbs into bed behind me and gathers me in his arms. "You okay, sweetheart?" 

Somehow, with my back to him, avoiding his eyes, I'm finally able to form words. "It... hurt," I breathe.

Robin presses a kiss to my shoulder. "I know, sweetheart. It's supposed to your first time," he repeats.

I try to steady myself with a deep breath. It doesn't help. "I... I wasn't ready."  Tears resume streaming down my cheeks.

"Oh, darlin'. You were never gonna feel like you were ready. We've been seein' each other almost six months. I love you, Rory, you know that. You just gotta trust me to know what's right for us. It was time. I know it hurt, but when it stops hurtin', you're gonna like it. Trust me, alright?" he murmurs into my ear.

It has been six months, I know that. But I wasn't ready. Maybe he's right, maybe I would never feel ready. But I never thought he would just go ahead and do it anyway. I tried to make him stop. I tried to fight him off, damn it!

I sniffle.

"I love you, sweetheart. You know that, right?" he whispers.

I nod.

"You love me too?"

I nod again, automatically. I don't know if I mean it. Right now I just feel confused and numb.

"I'm gonna sleep here as long as I can. God, I wanna stay with you forever, sweetheart. But I gotta sneak back downstairs before my parents get up, okay?"

I nod again. I don't want him to sleep here. I want him to go so I can think. But he doesn't, he just spoons me and whispers pretty things and plants feathery kisses on my shoulder until he dozes off.

I don't sleep. I can't.

I can't believe that just happened. I figured I would lose my virginity to Robin, but not like that. I just don't understand why he didn't stop. He's warned me that when guys get worked up past a certain point, they can't stop. He certainly seemed like he wasn't in control. Is his attraction to me that strong? I don't get it, I just don't. And I know it was supposed to hurt my first time, but this was too much. Even in my inexperience, I know this was too much. It's not just that I'm sore - though I am, so damn sore. But, my wrists are a red and swollen, my thighs are bruised, and my muscles ache with exertion from the struggle before he forced his way inside me and I just gave up.

And that's what's bothering me most of all. Why did I give up?

Is this whole thing my fault? If I hadn't frozen, if I'd kept saying no until he heard me...

Shit. I messed up. I was kissing him and letting him touch me and I let him get too worked up. I know I asked him to stop, and I know I said no, but then I stopped fighting. I just let him do it. I wasn't even thinking about him, I was thinking about Cam. God, I can't imagine how he'd react if he knew that. He'd probably kill both me and Cam.

An unfathomable wave of guilt surges in my gut. I'm supposed to love Robin. He loves me. He says so all the time.

Robin starts stirring behind me and I glance at the clock and see it's nearly five in the morning. I pretend to be asleep. He presses a soft kiss to my cheek. "I gotta go, Sleepin' Beauty, I'll see you at breakfast," he whispers. I don't move a muscle. "I love you so damn much, sweetheart," he adds, his voice tight with emotion. And with one last kiss to my cheek, he climbs out from behind me and I listen to the door quietly open and close.

With him gone, I finally fall asleep, but it's a wretched sleep, riddled with nightmares of being held down, of being hurt, and completely at the mercy of some faceless someone who, for some reason, can't hear my desperate pleas.

****

 

It's already past ten when I wake, and though I manage to wash up and get dressed, I can't quite bring myself to leave the room. My wrists are wrought with light bruising, as are my inner thighs, and small red half-moons mark my palm where my fingernails cut into my skin. But the soreness between my legs is so fierce that everything else pales in comparison. Except for my heart. I've had so many conflicting emotions in the past eight hours that I have no idea where I've landed.

So I don't move. I'm sitting in the old wicker rocking chair in the corner of the room when I hear a light knock on the door. I realize I should have been down for breakfast with the family over an hour ago.

Before I can respond, Lacey walks in. "Hey Rory," she greets me warmly.

"Hey."

"You okay?"

I nod, but don't say anything. I'm not sure I can manage the words "I'm okay". They'd be my biggest lie.

Lacey sits on the foot of the bed and sighs. "Everyone's waitin' in the dining room."

"Sorry. I'm just not feelin' too well," I murmur, not quite meeting her gaze.

Lacey nods, like she expected this. "Look, Rob wanted me to come check on you," she admits.

"I'll be down soon, I'm just not feelin' well."

She nods again. "Yeah, you said."

Finally I meet her eyes.

"Look, he... he told me," she says.

I glare at her. He told her? He told her what? Surely not that he... made me have sex with him.

"He told me you guys- you know, slept together for the first time last night. Don't feel weird about it, Rory. You know, I lost my virginity to some guy I met in the Bahamas when I was on vacation with my family. I'd only known him a week. You slept with your boyfriend of six months who you love. There's nothin' to be embarrassed about."

Oh. I'm still surprised that he talked to his sister about it, but his version of things is easier to swallow, I guess. And she's right. Robin is my boyfriend of six months, we've exchanged I love you’s, he's clearly committed to me. It's okay that we had sex. No, not just okay, it's right that we did. I just wish I'd felt ready before he'd made the decision for me.

"Come on, Rory, you're still a good girl. Let's go down and eat, everyone's waitin' on us." She thinks I'm worried about my good girl rep. I never especially cared for that rep in the first place. I never wanted to be seen as a good girl or a bad girl. Hell, before this year I never cared about being a girl at all.

"Yeah, okay." 

I follow Lacey down the stairs and through the foyer.

"Robbie was real worried about you, you know. He really loves you." Her tone is almost disapproving. Like she hadn't expected him to fall in love with me - like maybe I don't deserve his affections. And maybe I don't. I sure never thought Robin Forbes would ever want to take me out, let alone love me.

The Forbes all greet me as I enter the dining room. Robin walks over to embrace me. He plants a chaste kiss on my lips and pulls out my chair like the southern gentleman his parents believe him to be. I dutifully sit, and breakfast commences just as it has every other weekend I've spent here.

Mayor Bobby and Cindy Forbes go on and on about Robin's UFL contract. They couldn't be more proud of their superstar son. Mayor Forbes starts telling a string of stories about him and my dad back when they were undergraduates together. He asks what I want to study in Gainesville, and I tell him pre-law, but that I'd also thought of applying to NYU like my mom, and that draws surprised glares.

"Surely your daddy would rather you go to Gainesville," Mayor Forbes hedges.

"Did you hear that directly from him?" I ask tentatively. Because my father certainly hasn't offered me any input on my college plans.

Mayor Forbes shrugs and says, "Not lately, I suppose." Yeah, that sounds about right.

He brings up our country club's father-daughter dance, which is coming up in a little over a month. He'll bring Lacey, of course, but my father hasn't bothered to take me since I was thirteen. This year it falls on one of the weekends he's out of town anyway, so he doesn't have to make up an excuse for us not attending, and I can pretend  he'd take me if he could.

I'm stunned when Mayor Forbes glances at his wife, who smiles her reassurance, and he asks me if I'd accompany him and Lacey. He knows my dad will be unavailable and would be honored to stand in, so he says. I peek over at Robin who starts rubbing his hand up and down my back. This was obviously discussed by the whole family, and honestly, I'm touched. But for the past three years, when half the town was at this event, Cam and I have forged our own little tradition. We go down to the lake and he reads me some of his newest short stories. It's not a plan I want to break, not when so much has changed this year. And after last night, I'm still feeling so conflicted about everything. I tell them I'll discuss it with my parents, but I worry that Mayor Forbes will just go straight to my dad, who will be relieved to have the chance to both avoid me and please his friend.

Mayor and Cindy Forbes will be taking a trip to New York the first weekend in February, and Robin tells them he's going to have a bunch of friends over to watch the Superbowl. He doesn't ask, he just lets them know he'll be throwing a party in their house. His parents lament over what a great idea it is. Then Mayor Forbes launches into the story about how he first fell for Cindy at a Superbowl party.

"She was Cindy Parker back then. I'd known her, of course - it's Linton, everyone knows everyone. But she was just a freshman and I was a junior and, you know, it was high school. I'd had a girlfriend the first two years - nothin' really serious, but it ended the summer before. My Cindy was just as beautiful then as she is now. Long blonde hair, bright green eyes... My buddy Teddy - you're dad knew him too, Rory - he moved away years ago, anyway, he'd invited her because he was hopin' to put the moves on her. That's the only reason she was a freshman at a senior's party." Mayor Forbes and his wife laugh and Robin and Lacey groan. I smile. I've never heard them talk about when they were kids.

"It was like magic, I swear - I give her one glance and I'm hooked. No way was I gonna let the prettiest girl in town end up with someone else, especially not Teddy Smith. So I just walked over to her and started talkin' and we talked all night - through the whole game. My box won in the pool and I didn't even know until the next day. She was my girl after that. I proposed right after her graduation and we were married before she started at Gainesville."

"How did you know?" I blurt. "I mean, that she was the one?"

Mayor Forbes grins widely. Under the table, Robin laces his fingers through mine.

"You know, I just looked at her that night, and I knew I couldn't let Teddy get near her. He was a bit of a dog, that one. And then after spendin' the night talkin' to her... I was already in love. I just knew I'd never want another girl, and I'd never stand it if she dated anyone else. We called it goin' steady back then, and I asked her right that night." They both chuckle. It's a happy memory and sweet story.

Robin lifts our linked hands from under the tablecloth and kisses the back of my hand. It doesn't go unnoticed by his family. I think I even hear his mother sigh.

****

 

Robin and I go for a walk around their property after breakfast. I'm still reeling from the events of the last twenty four hours, and I wish I had my jeep with me so I could get away and clear my head. Maybe go home, or to Cam's. But I could never talk about last night with Cam. Not ever.

Before Robin, there wasn't a single thing I couldn't talk over with my best friend. Now I feel more on my own than I have in my life. Making love for the first time should have made Robin and me more connected than ever, but I couldn't possibly feel more alone.

I think of all the things I could have done differently. If I hadn't forgotten my shorts, if I'd fought harder, or hadn't fought at all. If I'd been dressing like I used to - in jeans instead of that short sundress that Robin called sexy - that probably didn't help keep him from getting too worked up. From losing control. That first time he touched me in his car, and I smacked him, he told me if I didn't want it then I wouldn't have worn such a short skirt. I've been wearing skirts and dresses all year. From the red dress I wore on our first date to my cheerleading uniform I've worn to school every Friday during football season, and will have to wear again on game days once basketball season starts. I wonder if that's what people think of me now - that I want it. Sex.

God, even Chip, my friend since little league, put his hand on my knee and made suggestive comments - something he never would have done before - all because of that damned skirt.

"You're awful quiet, sweetheart," Robin murmurs.

"Just thinkin'," I reply.

"What ya thinkin' about?"

I shrug.

"Ya know, I used to gag when my parents talked like that," he says.

"I think it's sweet," I mutter quietly.

Robin stops walking and grabs my hand, pulling me so I'm right in front of him. I feel an involuntary pang of fear, but I know it's irrational and I hastily push it away.

"I used to think they were just a sappy old married couple," he continues. "But I get it now."

"Get it?"

"When I saw you last summer, at the pool, in that sexy little red lifeguard swimsuit that was somehow hotter than the slutty bikinis all the other girls were wearin'... It was like I was seein' you for the first time, Rory." He stares intently down at me.

I had no idea he noticed me at the pool. I had no idea he'd ever noticed me before that day on his parents' front porch when he first asked me out. I'm surprised, and honestly, flattered, even though he's complimented me a hundred times since then.

"I even asked Lace about you. But then when I saw you that night, standin' at my front door in those tiny little shorts, lookin' like you were nervous about somethin'... I don't know, sweetheart, it was like I was struck by lightin' or somethin'.

"I tried to play it all cool, but I couldn't stop thinkin' about those big, brown, angel eyes. About that pretty hair you hide behind when you're bein' all shy and sweet." He tucks the small curtain of hair that's hanging over my cheek behind my ear. "I ain't been able to stop thinkin' about you since. I ain't ever gonna stop thinkin' about you, darlin'. And I don't wanna."

Robin leans down, and in complete contrast to last night, he kisses me slowly and tenderly. He lets the pretty things he's just said linger in the mild winter air. And they touch me. They really do. When he pulls away, his gaze is positively adoring.

"Robin," I breathe.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"I... Last night... I don't wanna do that again until I'm ready," I murmur, thanking God for the courage to say the words out loud.

"I know, sweetheart," he replies, and then slides his arm around my waist and continues our walk.