by L. D. Davis
Emmet carefully put me on my feet and made quick work pulling the blankets back on the bed. Then he steered me to the bed and made me sit down. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the spinning room. I felt him pulling my shoes off of my feet, and I remember thinking how weird it was that he was taking my shoes off. When I felt his hand on my cheek, I opened my eyes and met his.
“I told you not to go to that party,” he softly admonished.
His hair had fallen across his eyes. It was a little too long, but I always liked it like that, even when we were younger, I liked his longish hair.
I smiled and pushed his hair out of his eyes with my fingers. I pushed my hand through it and sighed. His hair was soft and thick. It felt wonderful in my hand.
Emmet closed his eyes, and for a very short time, we stayed just like that, his hand on my cheek, my hand in his hair, his eyes closed and mine wide open. Then the moment ended.
He opened his eyes and snatched his hand back as if it burned him to touch me. He stood up abruptly and took a wide step back, forcing my hand to fall from his silky hair to my lap. He closed his eyes again, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then opened his eyes once more.
“I need to check on Emmy,” he said, making a concerted effort not to look at me. “Lie down and try to sleep.”
“You stole my first kiss,” I told him quietly.
The room was spinning more than before. My heart beat uselessly in my chest as if it was dying. I carefully swung my legs into the bed and lay down.
“That isn’t the kind of first kiss you want, Donya.”
“What kind of first kiss do I want, Mr. Know-It-All?” I challenged.
“Jorge would have kissed you, and he wouldn’t have stopped there,” Emmet said bitterly. “He would have convinced you to follow him upstairs, and he would have done all kinds of things to you that you don’t need to know about at fourteen years old.”
“You talk to me as if I am so much younger than you,” I snapped. “You’re not that much older than me, Emmet. Girls my age date guys your age.”
“Doesn’t make it right, and it doesn’t mean they’re…having sex.”
“It’s high school, Emmet. We’re all still kids. It’s not like I was in middle school kissing a senior. I’m a freshman.”
“And you think you know so much,” he said darkly.
“Maybe I don’t know too much about anything, but that kiss wouldn’t have been so bad.”
“It’s what would have come after the kiss that worries me, Donya.”
I tried to focus my eyes on him.
“Why does it matter to you what I do?”
I didn’t know why I was so argumentative. It’s wasn’t like I was really interested in following Jorge upstairs and losing my virginity where several other girls probably also lost theirs. I hated that Emmet was attempting to be so brotherly to me after denying any such connection earlier in the night, and frankly, I was angry that I didn’t get that kiss. Not because it was something I necessarily wanted, but because it should have been my decision, not Emmet’s.
“I care about you,” Emmet answered quickly.
“Not like a sister,” I bit out. “You made that clear.”
He was quiet for a long moment. And then “No, not like a sister, but you’re too young and too dumb to get it, which is exactly why I won’t be explaining it to you.”
“You don’t make any sense at all,” I said flatly. “Check on your sister and go away.”
I rolled over, turning my back to him. My feelings really were hurt by his denying me earlier. After years of calling him my brother, he denied it when it probably could have mattered most.
I didn’t hear him leave, but I assumed he did. I was mad at him, and I was mad at myself for getting drunk with a senior male scumbag like Jorge. I was mad I didn’t get my first kiss. I was mad that it could have been worse than a kiss. I was mad at myself for crying.
I didn’t know when I started to cry, or why I was crying.
“Your first kiss should be with someone who isn’t going to try to get into your pants immediately after,” I heard Emmet say.
I stiffened. My tears continued to roll down my face, but I didn’t make a noise.
“I know it doesn’t always happen that way, but I want it to mean more for you. And Emmy,” he said more as an afterthought.
When I didn’t respond, I heard him sigh, and I heard the telltale sound of the door closing as he left.
Chapter Four
Emmy and I sat on the couch in the family room like mindless zombies, wearing sunglasses, sipping on water and watching mindless television. Occasionally one of us would reach for a saltine and nibble carefully on it. Samantha and Fred left early that morning before we rolled out of bed, thankfully, because then they wouldn’t have had to witness and then question our peculiar behavior. Then again, Sam was good at sniffing things out. From wherever she was, she probably could smell the alcohol and teenage debauchery in our blood.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the epic mistake I had almost made with Jorge. He was cute, but that’s about as far as it went. I didn’t want to kiss a boy just because he was cute, and when I considered that he was probably prepared to deflower me…I sighed inwardly. I couldn’t consider it.
If it were not for Emmet, I could have been in a world of pain and regret instead of just hung over. If I had listened to him in the first place, I wouldn’t have been hung over either. If I would have paid attention when he was whispering to me…warm breath tickling my ear…arm banded securely around my waist…
I made a sound of disgust. Emmy looked at me curiously, but I ignored her.
I was making something out of nothing. Like, really, that whole hand in his hair and his hand on my cheek thing was nothing. I don’t know what he meant about me being too young and dumb to understand. I know I wasn’t the smartest person, but I wasn’t dumb. He was just trying to come up with some excuse for announcing that he wasn’t my brother. Like there was any excuse.
“Hmph,” I said.
“What is wrong with you?” Emmy asked.
“Nothing,” I said and got to my feet. “I’m going to go skateboard.”
Em picked up the remote and turned off the television. “Honestly, I don’t know why I even got out of bed.”
Emmy went back to bed. I went out to the garage and grabbed my skateboard. Fred bought me my very own a few years back, but Emmet bought me a beautiful long board. Whenever I felt the need to shake my mind of the things that could bother someone my age, I got on my board. Once in a while Emmet joined me, but those times were few and far between as we got older. He was too cool to be caught skateboarding with his kid sister—or kid sister’s friend.
I was boarding on the street for some time, letting my eyes settle on the pavement below as I tried to eradicate my brain of all of those weird memories and feelings from the night before. I heard a car coming and automatically moved over to the side of the road and out of the way. I heard a door slam and then there was a moment of silence. The pavement was all that I saw, and I concentrated on the sound my board made over it.
“Hey,” I heard Emmet say to me.
I looked up. He was standing at the edge of the driveway with hands in his jacket pockets.
“Hi,” I said but didn’t stop.
“I haven’t skated in a while. I know a pretty cool spot where we can board if you want to go.”
I thought about it as I slowly rolled by him. “Why?” I asked. I was still mad.
“I don’t have anything else to do,” he shrugged.
“That’s a lie,” I said, jumping off of the board. I moved to pop it up and tucked it under my arm. I stood several feet away, studying him. “You have friends you can hang out with. I thought you jocks always did something after a football game anyway.”
He shrugged again. “I didn’t feel like sitting in someone’s basement playing video games and eating pizza all day.”
“Did you win?” I asked, pushi
ng my hair out of my face. It was a little windy. I wished I had a hat to keep my hair out of my face.
“Yes, we won,” he smiled. “I’m going to get my board, okay?”
He started to turn away, but I asked, “Why do you want to hang out with me?”
My goodness was I pissed. And hurt. And if he said something stupid I was going to hurl my board at him.
Why do I feel this way? Ugh. This is exactly why I wanted to be on my board.
“Maybe I just want to spend some time with you,” Emmet said, all humor gone from his face. He looked at me hard. “Maybe I saved your ass last night, so the least you can do is just skateboard with me for a little bit.”
I gripped my board in my hands. His eyes moved down to my board, and he raised an eyebrow.
“You wouldn’t be thinking of throwing that longboard at me, would you, Donya?” he asked, his head tilted to one side. His hair fell into his eyes, and I wanted to run over to him and push it off of his forehead. Not because there was anything wrong with it there, but because I liked my hand in his hair.
“Fine,” I said, dropping the board from one hand. “I’ll go.”
“Give me a couple of minutes to change and get my board,” he said, walking up the driveway.
I started grumbling to myself as I hopped back on my board. I looked down the road. I was tempted to skate away.
“Don’t even think about skating away,” Emmet warned from the door. “I’ll just find you and drag you into the car. I’ll always find you.”
I rolled my eyes at him, but when the door closed, I was even more tempted to skate away. Just to have Emmet put his arms around me to drag me into the car.
I thumped myself in my head with the palm of my hand.
*~*~*
So much for trying to push thoughts out of my head. Boarding with Emmet in an empty parking lot only made me think of Emmet. It wasn’t fair. I was mad. I was hurt. I was a little thrilled, and I was crushing a little, and I guess that’s what made me most angry.
I had taken pride in the fact that my best friend had two older brothers, and I had not crushed on them even once, even though they were good looking guys. Other friends drooled all over Emmy’s brothers, but not me. They were my brothers too, or so I thought. Emmet apparently was not, but then again, I wasn’t necessarily looking at Emmet as a brother anymore, was I?
I spared a glance in his general direction only to find his eyes already on me. It threw me. Really. It threw me. My skateboard threw me. I fell backward and tried to brace myself before my head hit the pavement, and it did, but at least it didn’t bounce. That’s the worst.
“Donya,” Emmet called out, and I heard his footsteps running to me. I also heard my board rolling away.
I groaned and tried to sit up as Emmet reached me.
“Is my board okay?” I asked, looking around for it.
“You just busted your head on the pavement, and you want to know if your board is okay?” he asked dubiously.
He was kneeling beside me with one hand on my shoulder.
“Well, is it?”
He sighed. “Your board is fine. Come on.” He stood up and helped me to my feet. “Is your head okay? Does it hurt?”
He gingerly touched the back of my head and watched my face for a reaction.
“It’s fine,” I murmured.
He was standing too close to me. I could feel the warmth radiating off of his body. I took a step back, and he took a step forward. It startled me, and I stepped back again and managed to mess it up. I started to fall backward, but Emmet’s hands snaked around me. He roughly pulled me into his body, and we both stumbled. I grabbed his jacket to steady myself and after a moment we were still again.
I started to laugh, but it was so not funny. I was pressed up against Emmet, and his arms were around me and he was looking down at me with a weird expression that made that feeling in my chest explode inside of me. I held my breath. I should have moved away, but I felt frozen in his arms.
One arm squeezed me tighter and a hand was suddenly close to my face. I flinched, and he sucked in a breath and looked angry, but when his fingers pushed loose strands of my hair off of my face, his own face softened. My breath exploded out of my mouth, and I prayed that it smelled okay. I mean, I brushed and rinsed, but you never know about breath. Especially after a night of drinking.
“I am going to give back what I stole,” he said in a soft tone that made me shiver against him.
Those green eyes burned into my eyes, and I started to whimper, but I managed to swallow it.
“Did you steal my money?” I asked stupidly.
“No,” he gave me a small, amused smile.
I swallowed hard. “Did you steal my hidden stash of junk food?”
He grinned and shook his head. His grin faded back to a slight smile.
“I stole your first kiss,” he said tenderly. His hand pressed lightly on the back of my head as he moved his face closer to mine. “I am going to give back what I stole.”
Emmet’s lips softly met mine, and I began to tremble. He smelled so good, and his lips felt…Oh, my god, nothing I could have ever imagined could have prepared me for how Emmet’s lips felt against mine. Warm. Soft. Demanding.
He gave me a moment to get acclimated to his mouth on mine, and then his tongue was tasting the seam of my lips. I gasped. He could have taken advantage of my parted lips and slipped his tongue into my mouth, but he didn’t, not yet.
When he gingerly pulled my bottom lip into his mouth and leisurely ran his tongue across it, I was shocked and embarrassed to hear myself moan. It was a quiet moan, but there was only the two of us in the lot. Of course, he probably heard it. I was embarrassed, but my humiliation was forgotten when Emmet’s teeth gently sunk into my lip. Another sultry sound escaped my throat. That time he used my hopeless noises to his advantage. His tongue slipped gently and smoothly into my open mouth.
When his tongue touched mine, I didn’t know what to do. I understood the basic mechanics of French kissing, but I didn’t want to shove my tongue down his throat. I didn’t want to mess it up. I didn’t know what to do with my tongue, so it just sat there.
Emmet seemed not to mind that I was so stupid. He repeatedly teased my tongue, giving it small strokes with his. It started to kind of tickle. To relieve that sensation, I moved my tongue, and I gasped again. My tongue hit Emmet’s and oh my god. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I did it again, and I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to stop feeling my tongue move with his and his lips against mine. I didn’t want to stop, but it was so…wrong. Wasn’t it? It didn’t matter. I’d worry about it later.
When Emmet finally released me, I was dazed and breathless. I stared up at him. I was shocked, embarrassed, appalled, thrilled, excited, and uncomfortable. My chest was tight with all of the emotions. My young body felt things it shouldn’t have felt.
I stepped back away from Emmet. That so was not a brotherly kiss.
Emmet took a step back too. Even though he was the one that initiated the intimate moment, he looked just as shocked and appalled as I did. He pushed a hand through his hair and looked at me with big eyes.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said breathlessly.
“Probably not,” I agreed weakly.
“You’re too young.”
“No, I’m not,” I argued. I wasn’t condoning what had just happened, but I was not too young for him. There was a little more than two years between us.
“You are,” he said soberly.
“Fine,” I snapped and turned away from him. I walked the few feet to my board, picked it up and kept on walking.
“Where are you going, Donya?” Emmet called behind me.
“I guess I’ll go to the playground and play with the little kids because apparently that’s how you look at me, which makes you a bit of a pervert.”
I heard an exasperated growl behind me and then his hand was on my arm, spinning me around to face him. I opened my mouth to yell at him, but th
en he was kissing me again. My face was locked in his hands as he kissed me hard. I kissed him back, but I knew I shouldn’t. It wasn’t about the age. It was just an awkward situation considering my place in his family.
I pulled away with a small whimper and struggled for air as his thumbs stroked over my cheeks. I jerked back and away from him, out of his hands and out of his reach. I threw my board down on the pavement and started to skate away from him as fast as my legs could take me. I was glad he had enough sense not to follow me because I did not want him to see me cry.
Chapter Five
We didn’t have cell phones back then, at least most people didn’t. There was no way for anyone to call you when there was an emergency, like if your dog got sick, or your roof was leaking, or if your father died. If you weren’t at home or at some known location where there was a phone, hours could be wasted searching for you, and then when you were found, they would say, “Where have you been?”
That’s what Emmy said to me when I got back to her house just as dark was falling. I dropped my skateboard in the foyer and inspected the scrape on my elbow from when I fell.
After I had skated away from Emmet, I went to my top secret hideout so I could clear my head. I hopped a bus to Philly and spent my day at the art museum. Something about the sculptures, the various paintings and displays was soothing. My favorite spot there was European art. Sometimes I’d spend a good hour just admiring Portal from the Abbey Church of Saint-Laurent. I was never a religious person, but the beautiful stone work always left me mesmerized.
“Doesn’t matter where I’ve been,” I said. I was unwilling to give up my secret place. Then it wouldn’t be a secret anymore. “I’m here now.”
I looked up and discovered the entire family had gathered in the foyer: Fred, Sam, Emmet, and Emmy. They were all looking at me. My heart just about leaped out of my ribcage.
“Is it my mom?” I asked in a panic.
“No,” Emmy said, taking my hands into hers. “It’s your dad. Donya, he...” she paused and looked at me with deep sadness. “He overdosed. He didn’t make it.”