by Kent, Julia
My lips part on their own to match his, and an incomprehensible feeling of intimacy overwhelms me as his tongue finds mine. It’s the weirdest feeling—like our tongues are trying to dance together—and my pulse starts to pound in my head as I press my body against his.
This is the furthest I’ve ever made it with him, I suddenly realize. The last time he held me like this—even without the kissing—I flipped out. I’m immensely proud of myself for one brief moment before my desire shoves the thought out of my mind and directs my attention back to Owen’s gorgeous gray eyes.
I want more. I want so much more.
As I lie back the couch, I grab Owen by the shoulders and pull him down on top of me. He looks down at me nervously, and I give him back the warmest smile I can.
“Maria... are you okay with this?” he asks me nervously. The last time he was on top of me, back at the ski slope, I nearly knocked his teeth out.
I nod excitedly and pull him down to kiss me. My lips crash into his as desire boils into a strange, beautiful feeling of urgency inside me. I need him to kiss me, and I need it right now. I need it more than I need to breathe, and I see stars when I finally pull away to gasp for air.
“I’m okay,” I whisper breathlessly. “I want to try, Owen.”
“Tell me when to stop, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt,” he whispers back, and the look on his face takes my breath away. I’ve never seen so much care and concern in one person’s face before, and it’s all for me. Even with the problems I’ve had, I’m the luckiest girl alive.
Without another word, I pull him down against me, almost pressing me into the sofa. He props himself up with his elbow—being careful not to put too much weight on his cast—and he kisses me again. His lips brush gently against my skin, hovering tenuously above me as I tremble in excitement, and just as I feel I can’t wait another second, he dives in and lets me join him in a loving, passionate kiss. He softly caresses my cheek as our lips play together, and an uncontrollable shiver shoots down my spine, igniting every nerve it passes on the way.
I feel like I’m suffocating with every kiss, but I want it to be like this! I want him this close to me, to feel his body against mine, his strong chest pressing against my breasts, and I draw him closer still. Our tongues find each other’s again, and I tremble as I grab his hand and place it against my hip. An unexpected groan of delight escapes through my lips as he kisses me on my neck. It’s as if every kiss leaves a tiny burst of flame behind as his lips move down my body.
With each fiery kiss down my neck, the fog in my mind grows thicker. My brain is so lost in the haze of desire that it’s letting my body do what it wants without question now, and it doesn’t even register when my hand darts out and grabs his again. I pant breathlessly, gasping for air between kisses as I wrap one leg around him and pull his hand down to the hem of my skirt.
“Maria?”
I hear his nervous voice drift in through the wonderful, heavenly haze engulfing my senses, but I don’t answer. I’m in too deep to come back out now. My eyes squeeze shut as I press his palm flat against my bare skin and slowly guide it up my leg. I’m shaking so much that I feel as if I’m about to explode, but I’m not afraid anymore. I feel amazing and excited in a way I’ve never felt before.
I feel alive.
I release his hand—leaving it to do whatever it’s going to do—and run my hands through his soft, blond hair and kiss him urgently. His hand slowly inches up my leg, almost as if he’s nervous that he might go too far. It’s funny how our roles switched like this—for once in my life, I’m not the one who’s scared.
Owen’s hand inches ticklishly up my leg, higher and higher, lifting my skirt as it moves. The feeling of the fabric rising against my thighs suddenly triggers something dark in the back of my mind, and Darren flickers to life inside my head, leering at me as he lifts my skirt.
No! He’s not doing this to me. Not tonight—not after how hard I’ve tried to break the chains. My burning desire for Owen is stronger than my fears tonight, and the terrifying image disappears as quickly as it emerged.
His hand is soft against my skin, but the wonderful feeling is amplified somehow by my realization of what we’re doing. His hand is beneath my dress, sliding closer and closer to my underwear, and it feels amazing. I’ve pushed past Darren for the first time in my life!
The excitement swelling in my chest is new and different. My body wants him in a way I’ve never felt before, and as scared as I should be by the unfamiliar feelings, I really like them.
I want him so much.
Suddenly, I hear the sound of a key clicking loudly in the lock, and we both bolt upright and sit stiffly side by side as the front door opens. Craig comes in, babbling happily to Tina as she follows behind him.
“...and that part where his ship just exploded for no reason? Awesome!” shouts Tina excitedly. “Such a god-awful movie, but so great.”
Tina nearly leaps out of her boots when she sees us staring at her.
“Oh my god... I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, covering her mouth with both hands as she sees us sitting on the couch. “We didn’t interrupt anything, did we?”
My hair is a sweaty mess, I’m gasping as if I ran a marathon and my face is bright pink. What does she think?
“No, of course not,” Owen and I blurt out in unison, and Tina rolls her eyes and tries not to laugh.
“Glad to hear it,” she giggles, and she winks at me.
Now that the spell is broken, I suddenly realize that it’s almost two in the morning. How on earth did it get so late? Time flew by while I lay in Owen’s arms, and I wish I could turn the clock back and stay like that forever.
Tina hovers awkwardly for a minute before excusing herself and heads upstairs, and Craig lingers in the kitchen for a short while longer before going up after her. I groan and then start to laugh.
“Are they going to... eew...” starts Owen, but his voice trails off awkwardly as he looks at the stairwell in amazement. I can’t help but giggle at his reaction. It’s so innocent and childlike for someone who, only moments ago, was wrapped in my embrace and touching me all over.
“I don’t know, but I deal with enough of it from our other roommates, so I think I’m going to call it a night,” I answer with a yawn. I don’t even want to think about Tina having sex.
“I had a really good time tonight,” I whisper, and he flashes me a gorgeous smile before answering.
“I’m glad. I did too.”
Tonight is the best night I’ve ever had. I have no words for how amazing I feel, so instead I let one last long, passionate kiss tell him for me.
Saturday, March 9 – 9:30 AM
Owen
I feel Maria shaking at my touch, but she holds my hand tightly against her leg and doesn’t let go. She wants so badly to try, but she’s even more scared than I am. I press my lips to hers, tasting her, stifling her delighted moan as my hand runs delicately up her thigh. The lace beneath her skirt tickles my arm, and my heart skips a beat as my fingers brush against the soft fabric of her underwear.
Her body burns like fire against mine, and she gasps frantically for air as she breaks away from the passionate kiss, trying to catch her breath. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want her right now.
The alarm clock goes off, shatters my dream and yanks me back to reality. My heart races, I’m covered in sweat, and the sheets cling to my skin as I stare up at the ceiling. I promised myself that I’d work on my thesis today, but it’s so tempting to just stay here in bed—to let myself drift off back to that heavenly dream and relive last night instead.
I’ve never felt more connected to someone than I did with Maria last night. Not one single girl I dated back when I was an undergrad ever made me feel like she does. The connection I felt last night as we lay in each other’s arms was the most intense, intimate feeling I’ve ever experienced.
I’m grateful now that Craig and Tina interrupted us when they did. I don’t know if I could
have controlled myself for much longer. I wanted so desperately to pull the straps of her dress down her shoulders, to slowly undress her and explore her body. I want experience everything with her—but I feel as if I’d be hurting her by going that far even if she wanted it too.
Why am I feeling guilty about something that didn’t happen? Emotions are complicated and sometimes even the good ones only make things harder to understand.
I have to get up.
By the time I’m out of the shower and dressed for the day, my thoughts are finally back in order and I’m ready to work. I grab my coat, toss an apple in my backpack, and head out the door.
It’s much warmer than I expected, and my coat quickly finds its way into my backpack when I stop to check the mail. The sun shines brightly in the clear blue sky—a rare occurrence in upstate New York—and I feel downright cheerful. I had the time of my life last night, and today’s looking promising too.
My outlook on the day suddenly changes drastically as I see the letter from Mom, and my heart sinks as I rip open the envelope and see the bill inside.
My insurance company sent the bill for my broken hand to my parents’ address instead of to my apartment. A yellow sticky-note with Mom’s handwriting is affixed at the top.
“Got this bill. Your father decided against paying it, so I wrote a check from your account. –Mom.”
The bill is for eight hundred dollars. She drained almost my entire account.
My pulse pounds louder and louder in my head as I walk up the hill to campus, and I start to panic. I just paid my rent two days ago, and the check hasn’t cleared the bank yet. When that goes through, I’ll be completely wiped out. My next paycheck is on the fifteenth; how am I supposed to eat until then? I have no money left for food!
My mind keeps racing in circles even once I make it to the library, and I can’t focus on my work. What if my bank balance had been just slightly lower? What if I’d gone grocery shopping early this month or used an ATM? Mom didn’t even call me before writing the check.
Something else bothers me, though—something much bigger than the money—and it gnaws at my chest, growing more and more painful until I have no choice but to pay attention to it.
Mom got a bill for a trip to the emergency room, and she never even called to see if I was okay.
I knew Dad didn’t care about me, but...
My eyes tear up and I can’t make them stop.
“I don’t matter,” I whisper, laying my head on the desk as I feel myself start to wilt. “I don’t matter at all.”
Saturday, March 9 – 10:30 AM
Maria
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I made it through the night without a single bad dream. The sun is shining in the window when I wake up, and it leaves a warm, bright rectangle on my bedspread.
I don’t want to get up, but I don’t want to go back to sleep either. What I really want is to go back to last night and feel Owen’s arms around me again. I don’t know what happened last night, but it was magical.
I finally convince myself to get up, but I’m not getting dressed. It’s Saturday, I have lots of homework to do, and I have to remember to sign up for the spring career fair. Today is a day for flannel pajamas, I think.
The career fair is only two weeks away now, and it suddenly feels like I was a freshman only yesterday. Time flies, especially when you’re finally starting to have fun.
Tina is meditating over her morning cup of coffee when I come down to the kitchen.
“Your English muffin’s already in the toaster,” she mumbles sleepily as I rummage through the fridge, and I smile gratefully and call off my search.
“Thanks.”
“No problem,” she answers. “How’d you enjoy last night?”
“It was fantastic,” I gush as I pour myself a cup of coffee. My muffin pops up in the toaster, and I slather it with butter before joining her at the table.
“What about yours?”
She smiles slyly at me before answering.
“Are you sure you want those kinds of details?”
“Oh God, no,” I stammer, shaking my head. “I don’t want to hear it.”
The last thing I want to hear about is Tina having sex. She’s like a little sister to me, or maybe more like a tiny, older sister. Either way, I don’t want to hear about it. Not now, not ever.
“I thought not,” she whispers. She sticks out her tongue at me before taking another sip and sighing contentedly into her coffee. A puff of steam floats out from her cup and slowly fades away.
My muffin crunches delightfully as I take the first bite. Tina made the coffee super strong again, though, and it’s so bitter that it feels like my tongue is shriveling up.
“You know... I’m really proud of you,” she blurts out suddenly. “For last night, I mean.”
I don’t know what to say to something like that, so instead I take another bite of my muffin and let her keep going.
“You have no idea how excited I was when I walked in and saw you kissing him. You’ve come so far and so fast,” says Tina, and then she adds, “Sorry about walking in on you; I didn’t interrupt anything... big... last night, did I?”
I shake my head and I feel my face turn red.
“No worries. You didn’t. I’m happy you came in when you did, though.”
She raises an eyebrow and waits for me to elaborate.
“I... well, if you hadn’t come in when you did...”
I trail off, not sure how to explain my fear.
“You were losing control?” she asks, and I nod. I’m glad she can read my mind, because I have no idea how to express what happened.
“Everything just felt so wonderful,” I whisper. “It was amazing, and I don’t know if I could have stopped myself if we went any further.”
She nods and purses her lips.
“It’s like I was lost, kind of,” I try to explain, grasping for whatever words I can find. “My brain was off in a haze, enjoying itself while it let my body do whatever it wanted.”
She closes her eyes and smiles at me as if she knows exactly what I mean. She probably does, given how she spent the evening.
“So... mind if I change the subject for just a second?” asks Tina after a long silence. Her eyes are wide and excited, and she looks like she might explode if she doesn’t tell me whatever it is that’s on her mind.
“Go for it,” I answer with a grin.
She holds up a brown manila envelope with big red letters stamped on it. “INTERVIEW.”
“The vet school!” she squeals happily, dancing in her chair. “They’re interviewing me for admission!”
“Awesome!” I shout, and she high-fives me from across the table. “See? I told you they’d be interested.”
“They only take like fifty students a year and they want to interview me?” she gushes excitedly. “That just doesn’t happen.”
“Congratulations!”
“You had any luck with your interviews so far?” she asks, and I shake my head.
“Oh well. Relax. You’ll do great at the spring career fair,” she tells me.
I hope I do. I haven’t applied anywhere since January—not after panicking during the last one—and I’m running out of time before graduation.
We stare silently at each other until Tina finally breaks the ice again.
“So... anything else you want to talk about from last night?”
“I need to figure some things out for myself right now,” I answer quietly. “A lot of my feelings aren’t making sense, and I don’t understand them.”
I should be leaping for joy right now—maybe even racing over to Owen’s place to kiss him again—but deep inside, I’m also a little nervous. I lost control of myself last night, and as wonderful as it felt, it was scary to feel myself do things I’d never thought I’d do.
“Welcome to romance, sweetie,” Tina says, reaching out and patting my hand comfortingly. “Your thoughts never make sense when you like someo
ne.”
“Never?”
“Maybe they do eventually, but they haven’t for me yet,” she answers with a shrug. “When you’re excited about someone and new to all of it, well... all bets are off.”
I sigh as I listen to her. I’m twenty-two and only just now dating someone—how am I ever supposed to catch up emotionally to where I should be?
“Explore your feelings,” she continues, and then quietly adds, “Just... be careful, okay?”
“You’ve told me that a few times now. What do you mean?”
She hops up from the table and refills her coffee before answering me.
“Good feelings can make you do very stupid things,” she explains, and now I get where she’s going with her warning. I felt the beginning of it last night—how I lost control of myself to the warm, wonderful feelings and almost let myself go completely. Even more, I remember how Tina was during her freshman year.
After her mother forgot her, Tina did everything she could to make connections with other people and replace the family she’d lost. She went through guy after guy during her freshman, and she always told me about whomever she was sleeping with. I always thought she was bragging about her conquests and hated listening to her until the night she finally broke down and started crying up in her top bunk. She’d been screaming for help—begging for someone to care about her—and I hadn’t been listening.
She’s worried that I’ll end up like she was.
Tina excuses herself to go study. I really should do the same, but I desperately need to take a shower. My hair feels gross and greasy, and I know I’ll never be able to concentrate like this.
I let the water warm up while I grab my bathrobe and towel from my room and the air is thick with steam by the time I undress and step into the comforting heat of the shower.
I close my eyes and lean back against the shower wall, enjoying the mixed sensations of hot water and cold tile. My imagination immediately goes back to last night—back to memories of Owen’s body pressing against mine and the incredible feeling of his fingers against my skin. I’ve never felt that good before.