by Lily Kay
A chortle escaped before he placed his hands on my shoulders. “I think you have nothing to worry about.”
I nodded and watched as his head angled closer to mine. “Okay, remember, not a lot of experience.” I leaned back, making my case one last time.
“Louie,” Gavin muttered. He encroached me like I was injured prey. My heart somersaulted inside my chest cavity.
He bent his head toward mine, and I sensed a soft breath caress my cheek before his lips found mine. I told myself it was only a kiss, not a promise. A flutter danced in my tummy as he licked the seam of my mouth and sought entrance. When our tongues collided, he pressed against my shoulders and pushed me away.
“Jesus Christ, you weren’t kidding.”
And I died. I shriveled up and died.
“I told you I was inexperienced.” I disintegrated my face into my pillow.
“Hey.” I felt his fingers caress my shoulder, his voice laced with amusement. “I’m sorry, I’m a shithead. I thought you were kidding.”
“Please go away.”
He shook my shoulder again. “Come on, Lou. I was rude and shouldn’t have laughed.” He laid down next to me, staring at the spot between me and the ceiling. “How inexperienced are we talking?”
I turned my head in the opposite direction of his.
“Louie.”
My face turned back toward his again. “Fine. You were my first real kiss. I guess I officially had my first and only kiss in seventh grade, but I don’t count it because the boy tried to drown me in saliva.”
Gavin rolled to his back, clapped his hands, and cackled. I maneuvered to my side and tried to push him off the edge of the bed. Not easy when he weighed almost a good eighty pounds more than me.
“Okay, okay. I’ll try to be serious. I promise. It’s hard to imagine a girl as beautiful as you could get to the age of twenty without a proper kiss. Especially this day and age.”
“Well, meet the freak show.”
He lightly brushed my cheek with the side of his pointer finger, before stroking my hair. “I take it you’ve never had a boyfriend either?”
“Wow. You’re quick. No wonder you have a full ride here.”
“Hey, I don’t want to make any more assumptions.”
“Anything you can possibly think of sexually besides masturbation? I can guarantee you, I haven’t done it.”
Gavin sat up, his eyelids lifted. “You masturbate? ‘Cause that’s pretty hot to watch.”
I seized my pillow and held it over my head. “Forget I said anything.”
Gavin lifted the edge of the pillow. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s a good thing. It’ll help me understand how to better make you come.”
Humiliation seeped through every pore. “Gavin, I’m fairly certain I’m not ready to even think about masturbation, let alone have the courage to ever try kissing again.”
“About that.” He took the pillow away from my face and leaned over me, his left arm positioned beside my head. He curled some strands of hair through his fingers.
I smelled the aftershave and soap he wore, and while my brain almost rotted with mortified by our failed kiss, my nose reveled in scented bliss. “I think it’s my duty to rewrite your first real kiss.”
Gavin descended toward me.
“But I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He pressed forward and grinned. “Your lips can kiss me back, you know. Step number one. And with your tongue? Lightly respond. You don’t have to jam it all in at once. You’re not plugging a hole. Don’t get me wrong, I love a hard physical kiss. But for this first, well, second time? We can explore. Have some fun.” One half of his mouth lifted upward. “Follow my lead and don’t over think it. You won’t suck, I promise.”
“Too late,” I murmured.
Gavin skimmed his fingers along my chin. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he said softly.
Instantly, all the clutter in my head dissipated the moment his lips contacted mine again. The kiss began soft, sending more shudders through my belly. With his tongue he lightly traced along the edge of my bottom lip, requesting entrance one more time. A sigh escaped my mouth and another shock ripped through my chest as he slipped his tongue around mine.
And truth, this kiss was better than anything I could have imagined. I tried to mimic what he did but pulled away.
“Babe?” With his breath heavier than before, Gavin rested his forehead against mine.
“I’m afraid I’m doing it wrong,” I uttered. My eyes remained shut.
“You’re only doing it wrong if you stop.” He caressed my neck, trailing his hand down my shoulder blade. “You’re a fast learner. Relax and enjoy it.” His lips discovered mine again, adding a little more pressure before our tongues made contact.
My shoulders loosened as I became lost in his kiss.
“You taste so sweet.” Gavin bit my bottom lip and sucked, slowly dragging it between his teeth. My body relaxed against his and I held on to his shoulders before playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
He jotted his lips against my jawline and made their way up to my left ear, before he skimmed my lobe. When he tickled the opening of my ear with his tongue, I felt myself getting wetter with each probe.
“Gavin.” I murmured. I fell in bliss when he paid attention to my ear. I never wanted him to stop, unless he decided my other ear ached for the same attention.
“Hmm?”
My brain stopped formulating words the moment his lips met my skin. My wish for the day involved staying in this very position, exploring each other.
Gavin melted his lips into mine and gave my bottom lip one last tug when we heard Sierra and Matt. “Anyone up for ice cream?” they yelled, followed by a few knocks on the door.
I whimpered at the loss of his mouth, and Gavin chuckled again. “Shall we?”
“I guess ice cream does sound good.” Like a little school girl, I peeked at Gavin. My heart beat like an out of control bass drum. “Umm, wow, umm, thanks,” I managed.
“My pleasure.” He rearranged a loose strand of hair behind my ear and pulled me close. With his arms encasing me like a shelter, he bent down and whispered in my ear. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about my earlier question regarding us.”
I attempted side-tracking him about the awesomeness of his lips but stopped. To be fair, taking the next step scared the crap out of me.
Before I backed out of his request, he positioned his finger to still my lips. “I know you’re not ready yet. But I can wait, and I won’t play fair.”
He’d have to wait a long ass time.
Gavin squeezed my hand and tipped his chin toward the direction of our dining room. “You ready for this?” He raised our threaded hands.
“I think so?” Because how dangerous could holding hands be? I wasn’t ready for official status, but friends still held hands, right? He said he didn’t play fair, yet I knew he would be careful with me. At least I hoped.
Maybe in time, I could eventually do this relationship thing after all? And then I contemplated Gavin’s patience.
We decided to walk the eight blocks because the evening temperature hovered at an ideal seventy degrees. With a slight breeze. Gavin didn’t release my hand the entire walk. My cheeks burned as my roommates kept glancing back at us.
The butterflies in my stomach were circumventing the globe, and I worried the ice cream would play blender games in my tummy post consumption. I’d have to muscle it down to escape my roomies doubts about whether my eating disorder had returned or not.
I squashed my nerves and frolicked in my happy place when I realized how this was the first time I saw myself falling hard for someone. But it also meant if he left me, it had the potential to hurt ten-fold.
“Hey, what’s going o
n?” He squeezed my hand.
I soaked in Gavin, his teeth almost gleaming in the sunlight. “I’m good.”
“Good. Thought I lost you there for a moment. Penny for your thoughts?”
“Oh, nothing. Thinking about the summer and how fast it went. And now here I am.” I tried to give him a reassuring smile, though I’m certain he didn’t buy it. But he didn’t probe any further.
We arrived at Moosetracks and claimed a table on the veranda when Gavin’s phone rang. He pulled it out of the pocket of his khaki shorts. “I have to take this,” he groaned.
“Hey, what’s up?” His brows lowered. “I’m busy right now. No, it’s not a good time.”
“Shit.” Gavin mumbled before he released a gust of air. “Hold on, sweetheart. Yeah, I’ll be there.” He quickly stashed the phone in his pocket and sighed. “Guys, I’m sorry. I gotta go.” He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll call you later.”
“What the fuck?” Matt asked, eyebrows furrowed together as his gaze followed Gavin’s receding back.
“He had to go see someone?” Just voicing the sentence made me feel discarded.
“Did he even say where he’s going?” No joke, Matt dabbled on the brink of going rabid with Gavin.
“I don’t know? It’s not like we’re dating or anything. He’s under no obligation to tell me where he is twenty-four seven.” Because what else was I going to say?
“Well, why the fuck were you two kissing?” Matt clenched his fists, and the vein on the side of his neck bulged. Like Sierra, he never shied away from an interrogation, as long as he conducted the grilling.
“I don’t know. We’re kinda seeing what happens. No commitment or anything.”
Nick leaned back into his chair. “Doesn’t seem like he’d leave you. He knows you want commitment.”
“Well, it was actually what I wanted. I’ve already told you guys, I’m not ready for a relationship.” Obviously, him neither. If he still cared for this person, based on this display, I played second fiddle.
Moments ticked by as my roommates observed each other, having their silent conversation.
“Bloody playing with fire, if you ask me.” Nick finally broke the silence.
“No shit. He better not fuck you over or I’ll crush his fingers.” Matt’s threats were more bite than real.
Sierra leaned toward me. “You know I love you like a sister, and despite these two idiots’ attempts to make you feel better, we all want to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into with Gavin.”
I plastered a line across my face and waited for my lecture.
“We know we’ve encouraged you to go after him, but we should’ve probably warned you, too. Gavin’s had a lot of experience, and we know you haven’t.” She hesitated and bit her lower lip. “We don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I get it. I do. But this is on me, not Gavin. I’m old enough to have a little fun, right? I mean, you all do it, have flings here and there.” I waved toward my three roommates.
“Yes, but—” Sierra began until I interrupted.
“No buts. I’m an adult. And I’m not as fragile as you think I am. I’m ready to try some stuff and Gavin’s a willing partner. Besides, it’s none of you guys’ business.”
Matt exhaled and shook his head. “Fine. Be careful, okay? And the minute he does anything upsetting, let me know and I’ll take care of him.”
“Let’s backtrack. No one is going to do anything to Gavin. I can handle it. He didn’t do anything wrong.” I hoped my voice didn’t warble. I couldn’t deny my friends’ words left more than a niggling drop of anxiety as I recalled Gavin did in fact leave me for someone else.
Was I stupid and naïve, hoping I could be first? Hoping they wouldn’t walk away? Was it an ex? Were they still intimate? Did it matter? Because he still went to her and it hurt like fuck, bringing back an urge to punch away the festering pain in my gut.
I was too chicken-shit to go all-in with this relationship. Did I even have a right to be upset? Probably not.
I sat in silence and formed a hole into my ice-cream cup. No way I’d let my roommates know how much I already hurt. After ten minutes of ignoring them, and shrugging at their ensuing questions, I bolted.
“Hey, you guys stay here and eat. I’m swamped with homework, and still have to practice the piano.” I shot up out of my seat and tossed my trash in the outside bin.
“Let her go.” Nick tugged Matt’s shirt to the point he sat back down.
“I knew she’d get hurt.” Sierra’s statement faded as I ran down the sidewalk, thankful the evening still held some light.
I didn’t slow down to hear any more of their conversation. My legs propelled me until I hit the street we lived on, staggered back to the house, and locked myself in my bedroom.
I ignored the mirror on the wall, and sank down into my bed, covering my eyes with my pillow. Doubt had a field day in my brain as I tried to rationalize the most amazing kiss ever, then him leaving me for someone else. I tried and failed to control the negative noise suffocating my thoughts. Like how I’d never be good enough, never pretty enough. I deserved everything I got for letting myself fall for a self-proclaimed player, however much I tried to deny it.
Chapter 12
Other than one text saying he’d be gone for a while, I didn’t hear from Gavin the rest of the week. He canceled tutoring on Wednesday, and I gradually accepted the fact he probably thought I was some curiosity to sniff-out before tossing me away, returning to one of his model ex-girlfriends or finding his next prey.
I know, not very good self-talk, and I sounded like a jilted lover, which was hilarious considering I had only kissed him. It’s not like he owed me anything. I had to think of ways to move on and not revert to crappy coping mechanisms of the past.
Part of me encountered relief I didn’t have to confirm the end of our non-relationship. I pretended the relationship persisted, although based on his silence, he decided we were over.
When he didn’t show up for composition on Friday, something was up. Maybe he flew back to California to be with this person? All sorts of crazy iterations were flinging pellets at the happily ever after I had devised and tucked safely away in my fantasy world.
Matt was officially pissed at Gavin, while Emmy and Sierra thought I should at least have the opportunity to talk to him before I officially ended whatever weird understanding we had.
Nick remained surprisingly mum, despite the flared-up level of drama.
“He’s your friend, Nick. What the fuck’s his deal?” Matt’s patience with Gavin dwindled. “I thought you said he would never fuck a girl like Louie and leave.”
“Look, no one fucked anyone, okay?” I interjected.
Nick finally sat down at the kitchen table and scratched his forehead.
“I think you should call him. I’m almost one hundred percent certain he’s not seeing anyone else, and he genuinely digs you. My guess is some emergency came up, and he can’t connect right now,” Nick said.
“He could at least call or text.” What was I, in third grade?
Nick called me out. “So, could you.”
Dang. He was right. I could contact him, but my stubbornness bore deep. I felt it his place to contact me, since he had abruptly dropped off the face of the earth.
Monday night had passed, and I still hadn’t contacted him. In the morning I made my way toward my closet, selecting a black tank top and some army green shorts. My mirror witnessed a stream of tears escape, and I shook my head and ripped off my clothes.
I yanked a sundress off the hanger and hauled it on. It was cream colored with daisies. Another pause in front of the mirror, and I vowed to never wear white again because I swore it made me look wider than tall.
I chucked it off and dressed
in some Capri navy pants and a fairly fitted white V-neck, but the sides of my stomach rolled over the waist of the Capri's. I tore the pants off and tried my jean shorts. After seeing my thighs in the mirror, I convinced myself each thigh had gained a couple of inches since last summer.
I threw the shorts on the floor and ripped my top off because the white color offended, questioning why I even bought it in the first place.
Another navy spaghetti strap sundress landed on the floor as wetness surged past the lining of my eyes, because my arms and shoulders bulged, and I could be mistaken for a beached cow in a muumuu.
Sweat made the clothes difficult to remove, and I heard fabric rip near my armpit as I removed the nasty article of clothing. My hands shook as I threw all my shorts on the ground and reached for the skirts, pulling them off their hangers.
I paused, and then snatched the brown linen skirt, clenched it, and held it up to my chest as if it were my only pillar of support. Exhaustion took over. I was done. Done with my ugly self, and stupid clothes that would never drape my body like they did in the false advertising in catalogs.
I collapsed onto the pile of clothes. My body heaved, because nothing would look good on me today. Breathing took a back seat to tears when I realized nothing ever would look good on me because I felt huge and ugly.
Fat isn’t a feeling. Dr. Liz’s voice punctured through all the garble in my brain. I internally yelled at myself, what the hell are you doing, Louie? Because I lied on the ground, aware of the pain churning in my stomach. A gnawing sensation I always got when the guilt and shame of feeling unwanted descended. The walls closed in on me, and I tried to catch my breath, but only attained short gasps, sharp intakes.
But an image of Ann from the hospital emerged from the corner of my temporal lobe and demanded I stop freaking out. After twenty-three years of anorexia, her appearance was forty-two going on seventy. She passed away the following week, which fucked with me the most. My mortality wasn’t guaranteed, if I could die before forty-five.