He slows our kisses to soft, gentle, caresses keeping his eyes glued to mine while he enters me. He’s watching every expression as it crosses my face. There isn’t pain as I expected, but he stills to let me acclimate. After that, I’m flooded with feelings. I never knew it would be like this.
My body is hotter than it was before—I didn’t think that was possible—and a feeling is building in me like nothing I’ve ever felt. I can’t breathe, I can’t focus on anything but this feeling.
My eyes squeeze shut, despite my effort to keep eye contact, and soon I can’t help but scream when the sensation takes over. My breaths are coming out in short bursts, and soon Rogan’s panting in the same way. My mind can’t keep up with what my heart is feeling. I don’t know if I can even describe it. This is what love is and never will I forget this. I’m forever changed, and I can thank this beautiful soul for changing me in the most wonderful ways.
We lie under the stars, drinking sparkling cider for as long as possible, but I have to get home soon and the drive is going to take a while, so we pack the blanket, the empty bottle of sparkling cider, and our wine glasses and stroll to the car, holding hands with sated looks on both our faces. I don’t know how I’m going to hide this from mom. I’m sure she’ll know as soon as I walk in the door. Oh my God! I hope that’s not true; that would be a horribly embarrassing way to end this night.
Rogan loads everything into the trunk while I wait by my door, like he instructed, and I take the opportunity to grab everything I can about tonight and lock it away in my brain for the times I can’t be around him, which are going to seem so much worse now than before, and it was already difficult.
He opens the door for me, but holds me close before I can get in. He presses his lips, which are swollen now from our thorough explorations, to mine and kisses me sweetly before pulling away, leaning down with his forehead resting on mine. “I didn’t know it was possible to love you even more than I did before, but I do. You’re beautiful and I am beyond happy right now. I just want you to know that.
“Thank you for loving me and thank you for the greatest night of my life.” He opens the door for me and because of a lack of words, I smile and get into the car.
The car ride is comfortably silent. We never let go of each other’s hands, just take turns strumming over the other’s tender skin, loving the contact and feeling higher than any drug could induce, I’m sure.
When we pull up in front of my house it’s five minutes before midnight, just in time for curfew. The air in the car has become thick and heavy. Neither of us wants to let this night go. We both sit perfectly still, neither making any attempt to leave, but there’s an imaginary clock I can hear ticking, counting down the seconds before the bubble bursts and the night must end.
Finally, Rogan gets out and walks in front of the car toward my door to open it for me. It feels like everything is in slow motion as I wait for him to open my door, as I wait for him to walk me to my front door, and as I wait for our last kiss before it’s tomorrow.
He holds my hand until we’re standing on my porch in front of the door that will soon be shutting behind me and ending this beyond perfect night. He raises my hand to his lips, turning it over, placing a kiss on the inside of my wrist, directly on my pulsing heart. I gasp, blinking back tears.
He presses my just kissed hand to his chest, putting it directly over his rapidly beating heart, and says, “You do this to me. You own me in every way and my heart beats for you. I love you, baby. Sleep well. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” He gives me a chaste kiss on the lips, then waits for me to get inside before heading toward his car.
I miss him already.
When I get in, mom isn’t up, which I am extremely thankful for. I don’t know what to do with myself, though; I’m so wired I can’t sit still. I’m making myself dizzy pacing my bedroom, and while I thought about taking a shower, I don’t want to wake anyone, and I’m not ready yet to wash this night away. If I close my eyes, I can still smell the night—the sweet smell of his breath after the cider, the smell of the dew on the grass and the smell that was uniquely us.
I’m lost in a daydream when I hear my phone vibrate letting me know I have a text.
Rogan: Just got home and can’t sleep, took a chance that you were still awake, too. Are you?
Me: I am. I couldn’t sleep either. I’m so wired.
Rogan: I know. So am I. I wish I could be with you right now. I miss you already.
Me: I missed you before you left. I am hopeless for you. It’s pathetic really. Lol
Rogan: Ouch! I have a male ego here that you are kinda stomping all over.
Me: Sorry for your ego. If you were here I would stroke it for you ;)
Rogan: Is that so? Maybe I should come over then.
Me: As much as I wish you could, my mom would freak and I would never see you again!
Rogan: Probably true. Guess I’ll have to wait for you to stroke my ego later :)
Me: Have I ever informed you that you are a total perv!
Rogan: Many times and I believe you love it!
Me: You caught me, but still . . .
Rogan: Would you really want me any other way?
Me: Absolutely not! Are you free to hang out in the morning?
Rogan: Depends.
Me: On what?
Rogan: Well, I may or may not have a thing going with this incredibly sexy girl I know, and if I do, well, then I don’t think I’ll be free, but if she doesn’t want to be with me anymore then I guess I am.
Me: I think you do have a thing going with the girl you speak of and I think she wants to see you tomorrow morning. I have it on good word that she may even be in the market to stroke some male ego.
Rogan: ;) See you at 8?
Eight o’clock in the morning? Wow, that’s only . . . Oh my God, it’s already 1:30 in the morning!
Me: I need to go to bed now if you want to see me in less than 7 hours!
Rogan: As much as I want to see you, I think you may be on to something. We should both probably get more sleep than that. How about 8:15? Lol No seriously though, I’ll pick you up at 9, then I am yours for the day. Ok?
Me: That sounds better. I love you! I’ll see you soon! Sweet dreams, lover ;)
Rogan: Say it again. I love the way that sounds in my head of you saying it.
Me: Goodnight, lover! See you at 9.
I set the alarm on my phone for 8:15, lay my phone on my nightstand, and crawl under the sheets. I guess I was tired after all. I don’t remember falling asleep, but now the alarm is nagging me to get my ass out of bed. At first, I want to chuck it across the room, but then I remember why it’s set in the first place, and suddenly I can’t get out of bed fast enough.
I fling my magenta pink cotton sheets to the end of the bed and run straight to the bathroom. As much as I don’t want to, I reluctantly get into the shower. By 8:45 I’ve showered, put my wet hair into a loose bun—it’ll dry just fine without any help from me—and am dressed in my favorite low cut jeans that Rogan loves and a baby blue tank top that hugs me in all the right places.
I run down stairs and find mom and Cass eating breakfast at the kitchen island. They stop talking when they see me; Cass doesn’t look up from her bowl of cereal, and mom looks like she’s been crying. What’s going on?
“Mom, are you okay? Have you been crying?” I look back toward Cass, but she’s still absorbedly staring into her cereal bowl. She’s never like this with me. What happened? I look back to mom.
“It’s nothing really, sweetie.” She forces a smile and makes to get up, but I push her back down by the shoulders.
“Don’t lie to me, please; just tell me what it is?” I know I’m begging, but this can’t be good if Cass is ignoring me.
The doorbell rings and I know it’s Rogan. I had unlocked the door before I came into the kitchen, so I call for him to come in, yelling that it’s open. I hear the door open and shut, then I feel his body directly behind me and his hand on the s
mall of my back. My heart is beating frantically, but not because of his touch this time.
Mom looks up and toward Rogan and smiles, but he doesn’t get any better of a smile than I just had and he notices, too. He glances to me and his brow is furrowed. I shrug in answer to his non-verbal question. I have no more an idea of what’s wrong than he does.
“I didn’t realize you’d be going out this morning,” mom says. “So, how about you two get out of here and have fun? We can talk later if you want. Right now isn’t such a good time anyway. Cassie and I are going to the mall for a little while, and I’m not sure how long we’ll be gone.”
She doesn’t give me a chance to form a rebuttal. She and Cass are out the door, leaving Rogan and me standing in the kitchen completely perplexed as to what just happened, neither of us knowing what to do about it.
After a few awkward moments standing in the kitchen waiting for it to give us the answers we’re looking for, but coming up empty, we decide we might as well eat instead of standing here waiting for something to happen that isn’t going to be happening anytime soon.
When we get back from an admittedly hurried breakfast, the house is still empty. I know mom said they’d be a while, but I was hoping she was lying, not expecting Rogan and me to come back early if we thought they wouldn’t be here.
I guess she wasn’t lying.
Rogan stays with me until his mom calls to tell him she’d like to see her son for at least one meal over the weekend. I smile, knowing that I monopolize him from her, and tell him to get out and spend time with his mom and that I’ll text him later when/if I find anything out. We say our ‘I love yous’ and after he leaves I resume sitting on the soft, dark brown leather couch in the family room waiting for my family to come home.
Seven hours later, and a few texts to Rogan telling him I had no answers yet since no one was home, the front door opens. I jump from the sofa and run to the door, expecting both mom and Cass, but instead only see Cass standing there looking exhausted and frail. I look for mom behind her, but there’s no one, then Cass closes the door. Why would she close the door on mom like that? Unless mom’s not with her?
“Cass, you look sick. What happened? And where’s mom?”
My head is pounding from the day of waiting and freaking myself out with all the different scenarios as to what could be happening, but seeing her in front of me now is only making the pounding worse. I see no relief in sight, but I’ll be damned if I don’t get some answers and soon.
“Mom will be back soon,” she says softly and exhaustedly while stepping onto the first step of the stairs up to her bedroom.
I grab her arm gently, trying to get her to look at me but her posture stiffens, and her face continues looking forward. “Cass, please. Please . . .” I quietly beg her as if she’s a scared bird I don’t want to frighten away, but it’s no use.
“Jess, let this go until mom gets home,” she huffs and breaks free of my grasp. Her door is slammed shut in less time than it takes me to fully process that she’s out of my reach.
Whatever is happening is clearly upsetting her, and as much as I’m dying to know what it is, I can tell she’s been through enough today that I don’t want to add to her pain.
I’ll wait for mom.
Another three hours and mom walks through the door. I didn’t think anyone could look worse than Cass had when she got home, but I was mistaken. Her eyes are sunken in and dark circles have formed all around them. Her face looks pale, which is making her dark circles seem even darker, and her shoulders are slumped inward as if she has just ran a marathon and is too exhausted to hold them up. She looks like she’s going to collapse, and it’s scaring the hell out of me.
I run to her and throw my arms around her neck, grabbing hold as if she’s my life preserver, when in reality right now I’m probably hers.
She begins quietly sniffling, clearly trying not to lose control and sob, but there’s no control left; the sobs come and her body shakes violently against me. She’s leaning all her weight into me, and I can’t hold us both up any more. I pull us to the steps of the stairwell and glide us down so we can both avoid falling flat onto the hard tile floor.
She doesn’t stop crying, doesn’t seem to notice we’re sitting down now, doesn’t seem to notice it’s me she’s holding. She’s mumbling things like “I can’t believe this is happening.” “Why my baby?” I can tell she’s not asking me these questions. I think she’s asking the Cosmos to give them to her, as if that will be the only way to get the ones she wants.
I’m on the verge of tears myself. I’ve never seen her like this, and I don’t know what to do; she’s always the strong one. I’ve always been mature, but the real responsibilities in this house belong to her. Between volleyball practice, games, Rogan, my friends, and of course, keeping an eye on Cass, I never cook dinner nor help out much with the laundry, which at this moment I feel horrible for. I know this isn’t about whether I wash the clothes or do the dishes, but that’s the only thing I feel in control of right now that I can change to help her out, and I plan to start tomorrow.
Her sobs quiet, and I wait for her to explain what has happened, but when I hear soft breaths and feel the air on my throat, I know she has fallen asleep. We’re sitting on the steps, she’s just balled her eyes out to me, and she hasn’t answered any of my burning questions and now she sleeps? I guess I won’t be getting any answers from her tonight. Now the question is how to get her up the stairs to her room. I look up the seemingly impossible span of stairs, then to my right, seeing the family room sofa; it’s only a few feet away.
I stand her up. She barely mumbles recognition at the movement, then we stumble our way over to the sofa. I lay her down, take off her shoes, and cover her with the tan fleece blanket draped over the back of the sofa. She curls into it and falls into a dead sleep. I stand looking down at her, at the woman who has been the strongest person I’ve ever known, my rock, and now she looks like the weakest.
I can’t stomach leaving her here alone so I settle into the loveseat across from her and try to rest my eyes, but my thoughts and fears won’t shut up. I pull my phone from my pocket and text Rogan. I have nothing to report, since I don’t know anything myself, but I know he’s worried.
Me: Mom just got home. She’s passed out on the sofa. She didn’t tell me anything, just started crying as soon as she walked in the door. Hopefully I’ll know what’s up tomorrow. I’ll text you when I do. I love you and I miss you so much. Something is really wrong and I’m so scared.
Rogan: Whatever it is I’ll be there for you. I love you 2. Get some sleep. Will I see you at school tomorrow?
Me: No way, I’m staying here until I get some answers.
Rogan: Ok. Keep me posted. I love you. Good night babe.
I tuck my phone back into my pocket and lie on my back staring at the ceiling, asking the Cosmos my own set of questions; they don’t give me any answers either.
Every time I hear a noise, I look to mom. When I see she’s fine I listen for noises upstairs. It must be Cass, then I close my eyes again. Another noise, repeat process. Eyes open, ears focused, and mind racing. Nothing. Close eyes again.
At first light, I stop closing my eyes. I turn on my side and watch and wait for mom to wake. According to the time on the cable box, it’s 8:21 when she starts to stir, 8:49 when her eyes first open, 9:03 when she’s fully awake and alert, seeing me staring at her.
She jumps up into a sitting position and rubs at her eyes, smudging what’s left of her mascara all over her face. She blinks rapidly at me as if she isn’t sure I’m sitting in front of her. I’ve mirrored her position and am now sitting facing her as well. We stare at each other, neither saying a word.
I’m the first to break the silence. “Mom, what hap—“
“Are you hungry, honey? It must be late.” She glances at the clock, 9:15; throws the blanket off her and heads toward the kitchen. “I’ll make some breakfast.”
I follow on her tail, not wanti
ng to let her out of my sight. She’s making such a ruckus with the way she’s pulling pots and pans out from cabinets and opening and closing the refrigerator. I have no idea what she’s planning to cook, but she uses fewer pans at Thanksgiving than she is right now for a breakfast.
She stops, with one hand on a skillet handle, sets it on the counter, and runs up the stairs. I yell after her, but her door slams shut and I hear the shower in her bathroom start to run. I let her be. I let everyone be.
I don’t know what’s happening or why they don’t want me to know, but it’s starting to hurt being left out like this. Maybe I did something wrong and they’re mad at me or ashamed of me? Maybe they know what Rogan and I did the other night and they hate me for it. That seems like an extreme reaction to my boyfriend of one year and I having sex for the first time. I quickly dismiss that ridiculous thought.
My phone vibrates.
Rogan: Any news?
Me: No. Mom just woke up a little while ago then went crazy in the kitchen with the pots and pans, then ran up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door shut. I have NO idea what the hell is going on here. I know Cass is up. I can hear her moving in her room, but she still hasn’t come down to see me or left for school. It’s as if they are avoiding me. Do you think I did something wrong and they don’t want to tell me?
Rogan: I kinda doubt that. What could you have done? Do you want me to come over?
Me: I really do, but I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. I don’t know how I’m going to get them to talk, but I don’t think it will help to have you here when I try. Look at how my mom kicked us both out yesterday. Whatever this is, I have to do it on my own. I miss you so bad :(
Rogan: I’m only a text or call away if you change your mind. I love you so much. I’m going crazy here not knowing what’s happening and not being able to do anything about it.
Me: Well, I am here and I don’t know any more than you do. They’ve never left me in the cold like this! The doorbell just rang. I g2g I’ll ttys. I love you!
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