Illicit Desires (Illicit #1)

by Rose B Mashal

  I looked at my hands and found them digging deep into her hips. When I removed them there were deep shades of red forming on her skin.

  I did this?

  Emma fell onto the bed face down once I removed myself from her. I couldn't believe what I had just done. I only wanted to feel something other than the pain I was feeling in my heart, and I ended up hurting the only girl that truly cared about me and would do anything for me.

  I'm such a lowlife!

  I didn't say a word, I just stared at her. She wasn't moaning or anything, but she had a disapproving and shocked look on her face. Yet I didn't try to comfort her. I just zipped my pants up, grabbed my jacket and fled out of the room.

  Shit!

  The next thing I knew, I was lying on my bed, fully clothed including my shoes, and the sun was burning my skin through the open window.

  I guess I didn't close it last night.

  When did I get here anyway?

  Or … how?

  The fuck do I care.

  I went straight to the bathroom and stripped, then got into the shower.

  The hot water was doing wonders for me. My head was pounding like a motherfucker, but it still felt so relaxing to be under the hot water.

  Mom was in the kitchen when I got there, baking or cooking or whatever she does on Sunday mornings at eleven o'clock.

  "Good morning, honey. Sleep all right?" she asked cheerfully.

  "Mornin'," I simply answered, ignoring her question. I certainly was not in the mood for morning chit-chat!

  "I can make you some pancakes," she offered as I grabbed the orange juice.

  "Nah, it's cool."

  "I didn't have anything today except coffee. Dad left early, and Lily didn't feel well enough to come downstairs. We can have breakfast together."

  I choked on my juice and spluttered. My mom was by my side right away patting my back.

  "She didn't feel well?" I choked out.

  "Yeah, something she ate while she was out last night didn't go well with her stomach," Mom explained. "But don't worry, Dad checked on her and gave her some meds. She should be fine by nighttime, or maybe before."

  You really believed that bullshit, Mom? She couldn't come down because she's fucking sore from all of the fucking she did last night.

  "Are you okay?''

  I didn't answer.

  "Where are you going?"

  I let the door reply to her as I slammed it fiercely behind me.

  I'm sick of feeling the anger consuming me like a demon. I'm sick of being a jerk to everyone I care about. I'm just sick of this whole fucking life. But what should I do? Where should I go? I'm so fucking tired. Desperate and destroyed. I need to fix myself before I hurt other people.

  "Hello!"

  "Hey, can I come over?"

  Silence.

  "Emma?"

  "My parents are home."

  "It's fine. I just want to talk."

  Silence.

  "Is it okay if I stop by?"

  "Okay," she sighed.

  "Al right then, see you in a few."

  "See ya."

  I have no fucking clue how I'm going to fucking do this.

  "Emma, I'm sorry about last night. I don't know what came over me." I apologized, trying to do the right thing for once.

  She just nodded and looked away.

  I held her hands.

  "You're a very nice girl, Emma. You don't deserve anything but the best of the best."

  "Thanks," she whispered, still not looking me in the eyes.

  "You're so good to me, and I don't deserve you."

  That was when she looked up and stared into my eyes.

  "I'm – not sure I'm following." she frowned.

  "I'm breaking up with you," I finally said, feeling like shit for hurting her.

  It was the right thing to do, and I should've done it a long time ago. As a matter of fact, I should've never dated her in the first place. It wasn't right to get involved with someone when you know you can never truly give them any of your feelings. I liked her. But that was it for me. I could never do anything, or offer her anything other than that.

  The silence in the room was too loud for my ears. She didn't say anything; she just kept staring at me. Blue to green. And it really made me feel like deep shit when I saw a tear escaping her eye, onto her cheek.

  "You're breaking up with me?" she whispered.

  "Emma, please, I don't want you to be sad about this. It's the right thing to do, you deser-"

  "Why?" she interrupted me. "What have I done?"

  "You didn't do anything, really. It's not you, it's me."

  "'It's not you, it's me?' really? You're giving me that crappy line and you want me to believe it?"

  "It's really me. You're truly amaz-" she interrupted me once again by shrugging her hands away from mine and walking away.

  I stood up from her bed and followed her to the window she was standing by, not really knowing what else I should say.

  "After all the things I've done for you?" she said into the air. "Do you realize how shitty you have treated me all along? Do you realize I never once complained about it? Do you know why? Do you know why I took it all and shut up about it?"

  I didn't reply, I just hung my head, and looked at the floor.

  "Because I loved you! I truly did!" she cried. "Do you realize how many times I told you that I love you and you never cared to say it back to me? Not even once? Do you realize you never ever made love to me? Not even the night I lost my virginity to you?"

  She was right about everything she was saying. I had treated her like trash.

  "Don't you know how much it hurt me that almost every time you fucked me, I had to be facing away from you? Like you were disgusted to even look at my face!" she sobbed. "Yet, I still said nothing. And here you are breaking up with me, because 'I'm too good for you.'" She made air quotes.

  "Emma, I'm so sorry. You really deserve better than m—"

  "Save it, Adrian," she stopped me, wiping her tears away. "I've known since the beginning that you never truly cared about me. I was just hoping that som- … no, I was really mistaken."

  "I'm sure you'll find anoth-"

  "I don't need your pity," she spat with bloodshot eyes and a miserable expression that wanted to appear strong. "Get out of my house!"

  "Em-"

  "I said get the fuck out!" she screamed, more tears covering her face.

  And I did.

  The next day at school, I avoided absolutely everyone, including Lily. I hadn't looked at her at all for two days now, not even once. I didn't know what I would do if I looked at her and saw how she had changed from a girl to a woman.

  Lunchtime was another story. I had to go and sit at our table like every day, and something was telling me it wasn't going to be good.

  There were at least three people at that table that I didn't want to have any contact with. But what could I do? Eventually I went there.

  They were all sitting there, including Peter and Sally – his girlfriend. Emma looked wretched, making me feel even more shitty than I already felt.

  This is so awkward!

  You should have thought about that before you started dating one of your friends, jerk.

  "Hey," I said casually as I sat down.

  Immediately Julia stood up, bringing Emma with her.

  "Julia, where are you going?" Elliot asked.

  "I'm not sitting at the same table as this dickhead," she spat.

  O-kay!

  "Julia, c'mon! We're still friends, after all," Ian commented.

  "I'm not friends with assholes. Lily, are you coming?"

  "You're serious about this?" Lily asked.

  "Of course I am."

  "I'm sorry, Julia. But if you think I'm going to put you above my brother, then you're truly mistaken!"

  "Really? Okay fine! Elliot?"

  "Julia, you're overreacting! It's not like it's any of our business!"

  "So she will stand by her
brother and you'll leave your sister and cousin on their own?"

  "Ugh!" Elliot let out a frustrated sigh as he stood up. "Sorry, man," he muttered to me.

  "Sorry, Lily," Sandra said as she left with her boyfriend.

  "Hey, Adrian. I'm sorry about all of this," Peter said.

  "I don't need your sympathy, thank you very much!" I got up and walked out of the school building.

  I walked away.

  Away.

  I did one thing that I knew was right, and now I was completely … alone.

  The fuck … I do care!

  It killed me to see him suffering like this.

  It's so hard to watch the one you love more than anything in the whole world wither in his own damned pit of loneliness and self-loathing. Especially if you can't do anything about it.

  I knew Adrian well enough to know what he was really like. He was not a bad person; he was a real sweetheart, and I'm not just saying that. It was true.

  And knowing that made me feel bad, because I knew he must be feeling like trash over wanting something as low as what he wanted.

  I overheard Mom and Dad talking the other day … they were worried about him, saying something about panic attacks? God! That broke my heart. And thinking that it could all be related to me? That was something else.

  I knew I could make him feel better. I knew I could wipe that sad, miserable look off of his beautiful face –he seemed to be able to wear nothing but that look nowadays. I knew I could make it all better for him.

  But …

  How could I?

  It's like you have this person who's bugging you, annoying you, making you angry every time they talk to you or are around you; everything in you tells you to kill them, kill that person and get it over with, kill that person and you'll feel good, you'll feel better. But you still don't kill them.

  Why? Because it's not right!

  It was the same thing between me and Adrian. I couldn't be with him no matter how much everything in me told me to do it. It wasn't even a question to me.

  You know what to do, and what you don't do.

  It just broke my heart that I didn't know any 'right' way to help my brother.

  Since he broke up with Emma, he wasn't the same – walking around like a zombie, hardly talking to anyone, and never making eye contact with me.

  No matter how much I tried to talk to him in any way, he didn't respond to me. He didn't even acknowledge my presence – like I wasn't there, like I didn't even exist. I kind of wished that he would even just flip me off when I talked to him; it'd be better than nothing.

  I missed him.

  I didn't know if he was like that because of Emma or if there was something else. I mean, if it was Emma, why would he break up with her in the first place?

  I wished that Sean was around; at least he'd have somebody to talk to since Ian was no longer an option and all, and Elliot was the brother of Miss Drama Queen, doing what she said in order to not upset her.

  He had nobody, and he was so lonely.

  I wished that he'd talk to Peter; he liked him, and they'd become friends in no time, but he still didn't let anyone in. Even when our parents talked to him, he just nodded or shook his head. Sometimes he replied with just a few short words, but that was about it.

  Oh, Adrian! If you'd just forget about all of your foolish thoughts and illicit desires, everything would be just fine!

  Christmas came and went, and he was still the same. No emotion appearing whatsoever – just a blank face, and blank days for me. Because it was like he wasn't there at all.

  Mom asked me more than once if something had happened at school, but I told her there was nothing, just the drama with Emma and that was it.

  She wanted to talk to Emma, can you believe it? Mom thought that she was the one who broke up with him, so she wanted to tell her how miserable her son was without her – maybe she would feel sorry for him and take him back.

  Seriously, how pathetic is that?

  I told her that Adrian was the one who broke up with her, so she let it go, but then she kept babbling on about how close we used to be, and now I didn't even know something as simple as what was bothering my brother.

  I did know. Well, sort of. But what could I tell her?

  The fact that he was so quiet all the time was driving me crazy. I even thought about wearing something tight, revealing and white – just to get him to say something to me, even if it was just cursing. But I really didn't want to press his limits.

  I heard the water running in the bathroom; he was in there, probably brushing his teeth. I missed him so much, and I vowed to myself that I'd make him talk to me today, no matter what it took, so I left my bed and went to the bathroom.

  Like I had expected, he was brushing his teeth. When I opened the door, his hand froze and his eyes caught mine, then they roamed over my body for just a split second through the mirror, before he looked away and continued what he was doing before I entered, like nothing had happened.

  "Good morning, Adrian," I said, smiling, even though I knew he wouldn't see it.

  He didn't reply; he didn't even roll his eyes or glare, just acted like he didn't hear me at all.

  I sighed, then I made my way to my own sink and grabbed my toothbrush. Before I even got the chance to pick up my toothpaste, he was gone.

  I sighed again, brushed my teeth, took off my olive tank top and black panties, then got into the shower.

  The whole day I tried talking to him. Nothing. Still.

  Do you want a sandwich? He left the kitchen.

  Do you want to watch a movie with me? He put his earphones on.

  Do you want to go for a walk? He grabbed his guitar and started playing something.

  So frustrating!

  It wasn't until dinner that I actually saw him talk for practically the first time all day, and I somehow wished that he hadn't.

  Mom cleared her throat, and I knew she had something to say. Something that was really important, to the point that it couldn't wait until after dinner. I knew that because she always made a big deal about it if any of us talked about anything that wasn't important while having dinner.

  "There is something important that I want to discuss."

  Ha!

  We all stopped eating, and Dad gave her hand a gentle squeeze, encouraging her to go for it.

  What is the big deal?

  "I, uh, I was putting some supplies you kids needed in your bathroom, and – while I was at it, I found something in Lily's tampon drawer!" She looked at Adrian.

  Oh, crap!

  I peeked at Adrian, and he was frowning – confused, of course.

  "The thing I found was – a condom." she choked out.

  My dad patted her hand, then squeezed it again, giving Adrian a disappointed look.

  This is not happening! Not happening! It can't be.

  I could see Adrian's hand with the corner of my eye as he held the knife so tightly, pressing it hard into his plate. I took another glance at his face, but he wasn't looking at me, he was looking at the knife in his hand, his jaw clenching – and I think I heard some teeth chattering, too.

  Earth, please, can you open up and swallow me now? Pretty please?

  "I know very well that times are different now and everything," Mom started. "But I saved myself for marriage, and – I'd love it if you two did the same."

  Seriously?

  "It's never too late to pick the right road, Adrian," she pleaded. "You still can think about it, honey."

  There was silence for a few moments. Silence before the storm.

  "Are you finished?" Adrian asked in a low voice, still looking at his knife, stabbing his plate.

  "Uh, I just want the best fo-"

  "So you want me to stay away from sex until marriage?" He spoke to her with some sarcasm in his voice.

  This can't be good.

  "Yes, honey, it wasn't so hard when I did it, and – "

  "And because your life was – is – so perfect, you
want me to do the same, right? Even though you ended up with another guy and not the one you 'saved yourself for', " he made air quotes, his voice now so full of anger.

  "Adrian! Watch your mouth." Dad warned.

  "For your information, dear Mom, I started having sex long, oh, a very long time ago."

  Mom let out a muffled sob.

  "So there is nothing left to 'think' about. Okay?" He dropped his knife with a loud clang and left the dinner table.

  Mom was too shocked by his words to say anything. It was too important to her for her kids to be just perfect, in everything. And I mean everything.

  And hearing Adrian say those words was – of course – heartbreaking.

  "Oh, by the way –" He stopped midway and turned around, and I knew it was because he wanted to go through the last bump. "That condom you found is so not mine. I keep mine in the drawer of my nightstand beside my bed if you want to check. Seriously, why on earth would I keep it in my sister's tampon drawer? I wouldn't touch that thing with a stick!"

  Mom gasped, and Dad's eyes got so wide, I thought they were going to bug out of his skull.

  "Oh yeah, your sweet little daughter is not that innocent after all. Surprise!"

  And then he went to his room, slamming the door shut with force.

  Earth?

  Now please?

  Please?

  I woke up the next day a bit late, not like every other morning. I liked to wake up early, very early, even if it was Sunday, I didn't really care.

  Mom had kept me up, telling me everything she knew about physical relationships, protection, blah blah blah.

  She made sure that I got the message of her being so very disappointed in me … and my brother as well. She didn't actually say the words, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what she was hinting at.

  She didn't leave my room until after I told her that there was nothing to worry about, and at least I was responsible enough to think about precautions and so on, and how I was over sixteen, which was the age of consent in Washington

  She was really making a big deal out of it, and it was really a pain in the butt to see her that sad about her 'Perfect Family'. I mean, c'mon, it's not 1900, for God's sake!