Paper Dolls [Book Two]

by Emma Chamberlain

  “It was that stupid male need to protect his daughter crap. I got the impression there would have been more questions if Mom hadn’t smoothed the path.”

  “What kind of questions?” She asked skeptically. Her attitude implied a certain superiority over him and I liked it.

  “I don’t know. Maybe if you’d deflowered me or something stupid like that. He’s kind of old fashioned and has this idea of gender that is stuck in the 50s.”

  “Unf. I wish I deflowered you. That would’ve been sweet,” she paused. “For you,” she insisted, looking down at me again. “You’ll have to tell me all about that, by the way.”

  “My first time?” I snorted and shook my head. “So not noteworthy. It was in the back of Kyle Jansen’s 4Runner, after Homecoming, sophomore year. I didn’t speak to him again that entire year.” I laughed. “It was that bad.”

  “Sophomore?” Olivia asked, her eyebrow peeking. “Interesting.” She was assessing the information and taking it in.

  “Why? When did you have your first time?”

  “Well,” she sighed. “I was younger… Much.” She picked at the fabric and appeared to be thinking. “Right before seventh grade,” she said, remembering. As if knowing it might be hard to relay, Olivia sat up on the bed and tucked her knees into her chest. “Summer,” she explained. “Mom had sent me off to this extremely expensive camp with more kids like me. Rich kids, smart kids,” she clarified. “I had a tennis coach. Underage… I think she was like barely 15. It was interesting. Almost accidental, I think. We got locked in a room together. It wasn’t supposed to happen,” she laughed. I saw her wipe a tear away though, swiftly. “It was a weird summer,” she said. “I didn’t like most of those kids. She was the only one I could tolerate and we had something... Naturally, she was older. I only ever got along with the older kids. It was the last day. I never saw her again after...”

  “Wait… So you were what… Fourteen? And you had this epic experience with your tennis coach girl. And I had the stupid really bad sex in the back of some kid’s SUV high school trope. You are so much cooler than I am.”

  “Try twelve,” she said. “And it was so not cool, Avery. I was young and too curious. I didn’t understand. It was like… I dunno… It was like getting a terrifying taste of something that might one day be a reason to live. I dunno… I just remember shaking and feeling things I’d never felt. Shivering legs. The confusing pleasure... A tightness in the back of my throat.” It was obvious, she was still, to this day, extremely affected by whatever she felt. “It’s hard to feel sexy or accomplished when you’re so little and all those feelings are confusing and make you feel wrong or dirty. Mostly, I just felt sad after it was done and I missed her. I knew I’d never see her again. For a second, I actually connected with someone, somehow. It was hard to take in.”

  “Twelve!? How? That was-” I struggled. I just wanted to say that I felt like it was wrong of that girl to do that to her when she was so young but I didn’t know if she would get mad. It felt like she didn’t take it as a negative thing necessarily. “I know she was underage but she shouldn’t have done that with a twelve year old.”

  “Oh, come on…” Olivia shrugged, looking over at me like I was some prude. “You know me,” she smiled. “It wasn’t like I didn’t want her to do it. We were both kids. She wasn’t that much older. She wasn’t trying to school me or show off. And we’d had a connection instantly. It was something else. We’d been flirting all week before. It was special.”

  I shook my head, still perplexed. I wasn’t going to argue with her about it when I’d had a relationship with a man older than me by more and across an age gap that was much less acceptable. “I guess I can’t say anything with my horrible judgement.”

  “I just know I’m not mad at her for it. But that’s my experience. It wasn’t like…” She thought carefully of her words. “She didn’t push me to do anything. She’d broken up with someone and confided in me about… Sex... I actually asked. And she was gentle. It was slow… One minute we were just sitting in the dark and the next we were kissing. Then kissing more. She seemed scared actually. And I was excited but scared too. I could tell I affected her too much and it made me- want things. I dunno… But then she watched me while she...” Her voice trailed off and she laughed. “I might’ve loved her,” she laughed again. It was almost like she was thinking about it for the first time maybe ever.

  “Is it weird that I’m jealous right now?” I don’t know what about the description was sparking it but maybe something to do with the way they shared the experience. “Jealous of her.”

  “No,” she said, smiling down at me with a tight sort of smile.

  “I don’t know. I am so aware that I’ve never been in love with anyone before even though I thought I had been. You make me want everything from you. Your beginning, middle and end. I want to own them all.” Sometimes I questioned how healthy our obsession with each other was but I couldn’t even begin to stop it so there was no reason to ponder it for more than a moment.

  “I don’t think I was in love with her. I think I could’ve been if given time. It wasn’t about that though. I’d be a lot different now, if you and I had met in sixth grade and fallen then,” she swallowed carefully. “I want those things too though, more than you know.”

  “Well, if I had a time machine we would be back in sophomore year and you would so definitely be taking me in the back of your Caddy.” The thought made me wistful for a past that never occurred.

  “If I knew you were a virgin I would probably want to wait and do it right. It wouldn’t be some homecoming fling in the back of my car. No way… I would’ve been so careful with you.”

  “So, since we’re in this vein. What’s your number?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?” She laughed nervously.

  “How many people have you slept with?” I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer. Just like I wasn’t sure I wanted to give her mine.

  “Oh, just three,” she said. “You, Nat, and her… I came close once with a boy but it wasn’t right, I chickened out.” She laid back down onto her stomach and put her head down in her arms. I heard her sigh.

  “Oh, why wasn’t it right?”

  “Oh,” she said, turning her head so that she could look at me. “It just wasn’t… I dunno.” She swallowed. “He liked me and he’d kiss me and it was sweet. But it didn’t feel like when she…”

  She stopped talking and searched my face, deciding she’d said enough.

  “It just wasn’t right,” she reaffirmed, turning her face and closing her eyes until she was face down again and avoiding me.

  “Basically he didn’t turn you on.”

  She laughed at that.

  “Sure. I guess you could simplify it that way if you want. I was never trying. Not with her, not with him. And with Nat, no. With you? Definitely not. It wasn’t about numbers or getting one of each. Or trying to gain an experience. It’s just life. Things just happened.”

  “Exactly. That seems to be all they ever do is happen.” I looked down at the bed and just thought about experience and how people fall into our lives.

  “I’m afraid to ask,” she said sadly.

  “Ask what?” I was hoping I was wrong about her question.

  “Avery, you know what. You brought this up.”

  “Honestly? I don’t know. There were a few parties last year where I’m not sure what happened.”

  “On the one hand, I’m glad I wasn’t at these parties because that would kill me to witness. On the other, I wish I was there to step in and steal you away,” she said. “Even if just to keep you from being used. You definitely scare me when you say things like that.”

  “I wish you had been there but I was a total mess for a while.” I touched her hand and centered myself. “So, Kyle, Roger, the barista from the coffee shop on third street, my friend Sara, this guy Max who plays in a local band, and Ben. There was a big dumb spin the bottle game in which I ended up kissing most of the dr
ama kids but hey… Teenagers, right?”

  She seemed to freeze for a second.

  “Did you kiss Skylar?” She asked, surprising me.

  “Almost, but she got up and ran off at the last second. I went after her and she just told me she felt sick from the alcohol and didn't want to puke on me. I kind of thought it just weirded her out, the thought of kissing me.” I shrugged. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious,” she said. But there seemed to be something more I couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Were all your hookups with guys?”

  “No, they weren't. Just most. The barista. She was the only one that wasn't just a hookup besides Ben.”

  “Was it serious?” Olivia asked, her lips twitching. “Why haven’t you told me about her?”

  “It wasn't serious for me. I guess it could have been, if I let it develop, but I know it would have ended either way. I broke her heart. It wasn't fun or pretty and I didn't tell you because I'm not proud of how I acted. She was older. Not by much but out of high school.”

  “How’d you act?” Olivia wondered.

  “I freaked out when she got too close. She showed up at my house when I didn't know she was coming and my mom answered the door. I broke up with her that day. I just shut her down without a good explanation.”

  “This topic sucks,” Olivia said, swallowing. “Is it bad, I feel like I could’ve been any number of these people with you?”

  “It's not a fun one, that's for sure.” I pulled her hand toward me and sat my cheek on it. “It's bad if I make you feel that way but you couldn't have been any of them. Especially not Ben. I won't lie to you. That instinct to shut down was there at first but you burst my walls wide open. I was falling for you too hard to ever be able to turn it off.”

  Olivia was quiet after that. She probably didn’t know what to say. I heard her sigh and then felt her moving to get up and find her clothes.

  “What are you thinking?”

  I needed to know. She went quiet a lot but after what I had just told her I worried. I needed her to realize that she was different.

  “Oh, I dunno,” she laughed sadly. I watched her tug her pants on and then scratch at her head. “It doesn’t matter though, Avery. I’m just emotional. It’ll pass.”

  “Tell me. I won't argue with you. I'll just listen.”

  I wanted to be everything to her. Not just her wife but her best friend, even though it was hard to keep still when she doubted.

  “I dunno,” she sighed. She seemed upset with me for pushing and making her talk. “Talking about this makes me scared, Avery. It makes me feel like I could just be a memory to you some day. Just a number... It hurts. My stomach hurts right now,” she held at it nervously. “It doesn’t feel good.”

  My breath caught and I stopped myself from barreling into an explanation of why she shouldn't feel that way. It never made her feel better and we ended up fighting.

  “I'm sorry it hurts. I wish I could stop it from hurting you. There's nothing for you to worry about but I know it’s scary. Everything unknown is scary. I love you and I'm more than willing to change the subject, tell you all my secrets, or distract you by doing the Single Ladies dance if you want.”

  She laughed bitterly. “You always do that,” she wiped her face with her hands, came toward me, and placed her body down on one knee in front of me on the bed. “You always get us so serious and then crack a joke like I’m supposed to forget,” she rolled her eyes and seemed a bit breathless. “I need to know these things,” she said, almost angry with me. “We need to talk about them, it’s just not easy. And we have so much to learn. All of it difficult somehow.” She stood back up and turned around, facing the door. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you what I was thinking. It doesn’t help anything when I do and I don’t need to. Not all of the time. Not when I feel crazy like this.”

  “It helps me,” I said. “Are you mad because my defense against pain is humor or because you think I could hurt you someday in the future? Because if I were to say that last part, that I was scared you would just leave me, you would argue it with me. Talk about how much I am to you. Well, take how you feel when you say those kinds of things to me and turn it around. That's exactly how I feel about you.”

  “Avery!” Her voice went up a bit and cracked as she turned around to face me and be strong. She shut her eyes up tight and stood in front of me with clenched fists. When she spoke again she completely softened. “I’m mad because I don’t know you yet,” she opened her eyes and I could see it was more sadness than anger. “Because I can’t know you. We haven’t had enough time. It’d be one thing if this process was slow but it hasn’t been. You tell me things and I need time. I need time to pull them in, to understand them, to paint a picture of you. Everything you tell me carries weight.”

  I scrambled off of the bed and rushed her, collecting her in a hug. "That's the great thing though, you will. I'm not going anywhere. You will know everything.”

  “Look, I’m sorry,” she said. As I held her, I could tell she was shaking. “Little things you say, they really affect me a lot, okay?” She hugged me back. I felt her rest her eyes on my shoulder, probably to keep tears from coming out. “I don’t like being this way. I really don’t but I can’t help it.”

  “That’s fine, I get it. What little thing did I say? Was it about shutting people out?”

  “You said a lot of little things,” she swallowed loudly and I could hear her shaky intake of breath. “Little things together make up big things.”

  “Tell me,” I said. “We should talk about it so it isn’t haunting us. I never want us to not communicate.”

  She let out a exacerbated breath. “Avery, it’s more complicated than just one word, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s not just what you say, it’s how you say it and what you ask. We just talked about A LOT of important stuff. At least, it feels that way to me. It’ll be kind’ve hard not to be haunted by the entire conversation because I need to take it all in. No matter what we say or how I try to explain why I feel this, or so on, I’m still going to be thinking about what you said and trying to relate it to everything I already know and relate it to you… You kissing all those people at the party but not Skylar… The one person you actually care for. That barista, how you grew infatuated with an idea and thought it was real. The way you chased her away even though she was the only person who meant more to you, or the same to you, as Ben. What happened with Ben. All that happened that I don't know that makes you so sure he's not like me. The way you asked how many people I slept with. The way you felt about my first time. All of these things are intense to learn about and they all tell me about you. Don’t you see? It’s like a puzzle… I only have a fraction of the pieces. I’m seeing shapes and shades and trying to guess at what you look like when you’re fully rendered. Sometimes I see beautiful things but other times there’s just darkness. And I know what I have of you right now. I know my puzzle pieces are the best overall with so much light and happiness and color but you can’t just have this small corner of me, that makes me terrified… It’s like I don’t fit. Or I'm not meant to fit. Or maybe I’m not real, maybe I’m a side puzzle, not really a piece of the whole. And I hate talking right now because I’m muddying our imagine and confusing you and I know that I am because it's confusing me too. I can’t explain and I’ve said too much already that's been wrong. Sometimes when I open my mouth I just hate the things I say but I can't erase them.”

  I kept part of myself in shadow because of an instinctual compulsion to appear a little more shiny. I knew it. Freaking out was only going to make it worse. Every dirty phrase I'd ever thought about myself appeared to me. Our minds weren't so very different. We used them differently.

  “You're not confusing me so much as making me wish I could stop you from being afraid,” I said.

  She pushed me away slowly and began to pace the empty space of my floor while she played with her hands nervously.

  “Look,” she started to spea
k again but she wasn’t really looking at me. “I don't see being haunted by past actions and conversations as a bad thing. This isn't really about fear so much as confusion.” I couldn’t exactly tell if she was talking to me or talking to herself. “The only thing bad about this is it does take me a while to try and piece you together and take you all in. All my questions will always lead to more questions. Everything you say, do, and think is more than important to me and I do obsess to try and figure you out. Of course I’m haunted by you. I never stop thinking about you even when we’re together. I was haunted by you on that very first day. I’m haunted by what happened at the lake. By our hotel night away from the lodge, all that we felt. I'm haunted by conversations we've had days ago, things you've said that will probably never leave me… Ways that we’ve been… That's part of why I love you so much though, you're not simple. We’re not simple. You make me think. It's not about your contrasts from past to present as much as it is about the time I need to try and understand your whole life. To understand where you were in your head when you did those things or said certain things. We just haven't had time and I am overwhelmed by you Avery. I'm always overwhelmed. You hit me too hard. It's not something you can control or avoid. I just feel you way more than I've felt anything and all the time. Words are actually harder than actions. I wish you knew what I meant. This is why I hate trying to explain. I just make things harder for you. I really do.”

  She breathed shakily. She’d said so much.

  “I'm going to have momentary fears. I can't help that.” She was talking fast and nervous. I think the silence on my end was scaring her.

  “Talk to me. Please,” she seemed desperate. “I shouldn't have said any of that. I'm am idiot. Every time you tell me something important I freak out. Remember that first day?” She was really shaking. “You made me ask you if you were sad. You made me and somehow you already knew I knew that you were. Just like you knew I could be asking you anything else like what your favorite color was or if you had pets or when you knew to hold your breath and when you knew to stop. You looked right at me and you forced me to ask. And you knew. You knew I was thinking it and you knew I was sad too. That’s us Avery. That has always been us. It’s never been simple or easy. It’s never been void of fear. It can’t be. Not for either of us. For whatever reason we can’t hide from each other and when we try we hurt each other a lot. That’s us.”