Taming of the Shoe

by Rebekah Dodson

  I couldn’t say any of it. But if my upbringing taught me anything, honesty was always the best policy. “It’s not about us, really, it’s your reputation...”

  I expected him to yell at me, the way my father would have done. The way Papa would have, though he never raised his voice. Instead, he laughed.

  Laughed!

  “Are you—”

  “Are you serious?” he interrupted. “My ... reputation? And what is it you’ve heard, exactly?”

  “You’re a player,” I blurted, “who dates girls for a few weeks and then dumps them...when you get bored.”

  He turned serious. “And who did you hear this from?”

  I looked down. He caught me. “Susanna.”

  “Susanna has a crush on me. I dated her sophomore year, for like a week. She’s boring as white bread. Not even toasted bread, mind you. White. Bread.”

  I almost wanted to laugh at how much I agreed with him, but I kept my face as stoic as I could. “And what about Angelica? You dated her?”

  “Ethan!” Amy’s long, drawn out whine sounded from the other room. “I picked a movie, are you coming?”

  He rolled his eyes and shouted, “Yeah, just a second!” He looked at me. “I dated Angelica two years ago – before she became a raging bitch!”

  It was my turn to cross my arms over my chest. “There’s a dozen others, Ethan! And what about Ma—”

  His eyes flashed when I started to say her name. He leaned over the counter and cut me off. “So what’s your point?”

  I felt my eyes brim with tears, instead I blinked them away. “I’ve never had a guy ask me out, let alone ... what we did last night...” I lowered my voice; keenly aware Amy was only a room away. “And I’m sure I wasn’t your first.”

  His eyes widened. “That’s what this is about it, isn’t it?” He dropped his arms and relaxed a bit. “God, Taylor,” he ran his hands through his hair to smooth it back. “If I could take back everything I’ve done before I met you, I would. You mean that much to me.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was lying; but he was lying about something. His eyes shifted back and forth between me and the counter. The question was, what part of the truth was he telling?

  But I couldn’t let this go. I’d lost sleep over it. My feelings for Ethan were so deep and strong and so much of a ... a violation. He was against everything was taught. And that anger that kept me up most of the night surged inside me again.

  “If I really meant that much to you, we would have used protection.” It was a near whisper. I was terrified Amy would overhear us, even though the kids’ movie she’d put on blared from the other room. Most of all I was ashamed of myself, for even saying it out loud.

  He blinked at me; his mouth gaped open. “That’s what you’re worried about?” He tugged at his hair again and started to pace. “Jesus, Taylor. I’m so sorry. I took precautions. I swear I did.”

  I ground my teeth and set my jaw. “Those ‘precautions’ aren’t effective. I looked it up. What if I’m... What if...” I couldn’t say the words that haunted me. I couldn’t. It was too shameful.

  “It happened so fast.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Make me understand, Taylor!” he yelled as quietly as he could.

  “Ethan! Are you coming or not?” Amy yelled from the other room.

  “Just a minute!” Ethan yelled, and looked at me, pointedly.

  I inhaled sharply, then blew it out. “What if our one mistake led to a teenage pregnancy? My church would shun me; my parents, my Papa, they would never forgive me. I’d be an outcast, cut off from everything. I don’t want that.”

  “Is that what it was? A mistake?”

  No! the voice in my head screamed. Not with you, not ever. “I don’t know,” I answered, scared to admit anything else.

  “ I...” He paused and turned to me; his face painted with anguish. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Well, next time, maybe you could think ahead?”

  Ethan ignored her this time. “And maybe you could think ahead, too. It takes two—” He paused. “Wait, there’s going to be a next time? Weren’t you just breaking up with me?”

  “Ugh!” I threw my hands down on the counter in front of me. I didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. It scared me. Everything inside me screamed to tell him that, but I couldn’t. Ethan was all sorts of bad for me, but he was also right. Instead, I asked, “Is there any way you can drive me home?”

  Ethan’s face wasn’t angry or hard; not what I was expecting. The frustration he was experiencing flooded out of his face. I’d never broken up with a boy before – and certainly not one that I’d given my purity to – so I didn’t know what to expect. Instead, he just looked kind of ... defeated.

  “No.”

  I blinked at him. No?

  He shook his head. “Amy would be terribly upset.” His cell phone beeped then, and he pulled it out of his pocket and looked at it, frowning. “Damn,” he swore softly.

  “What is it?”

  “My mother’s gone for the night; she’ll be back in the morning.” He tucked his phone away. “I guess Amy and I are on our own.” He shrugged and pushed away from the island, leaning against the counter behind him with his arms crossed.

  I looked around as I matched his frown. “Where’s your dad?”

  Ethan froze only for a minute; his lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but then decided against it. “Away on business,” he muttered.

  I was bad at telling if someone was lying, but Ethan was lying. I knew it. My heart pounded in my chest, and all I wanted was fresh air.

  “If you won’t drive me home, I’ll walk,” I announced, and I turned to grab the kitchen door knob that led to the driveway.

  He rounded the corner of the kitchen island and reached it at the same time I did. His hand closed over mine, stopping me, and I turned to him.

  “I’ll drive you home,” he said, defeated. “Just let me get Amy first, okay?”

  I stared at him, then blinked. It was still raining outside, and I wasn’t a fan of walking in the rain. What choice did I have?

  “Just ...” He tugged his hair again. “Don’t leave, please.”

  I shrugged. I didn’t want him to think I’d stay just for him...though I would, in a heartbeat. Who’s the liar now? I told myself.

  Ethan disappeared for less than a minute, then reappeared, alone.

  “Where’s Amy?” I asked.

  “Asleep on the couch.” He sighed. “Do you want me to wake her or...?” He looked at me slowly, his eyes gleaming.

  Hope. I couldn’t crush it. I wanted my legs to work, to walk out that door. But my heart pulled me in another direction.

  Towards him.

  “Ethan,” I whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”

  He crossed the room and scooped me into his arms and held me against his chest. “Stay,” he whispered, “for a little while?”

  My resolve was crumbling faster than a burnt cookie. He smelled like spicy cologne, like salt, like candy. It was intoxicating – ha! As if I even knew what that was, besides the non-alcoholic wine they served us during communion on Sundays. Maybe I’d read it somewhere? In any case, it was addicting, it was pleasant, it was ... mine.

  “Okay,” I crumbled. He released me and dragged his hand down my arm until he grabbed my hand.

  He led me into the living room, and I let him. We sat on the floor in front of the couch, which Amy’s small frame took up most of. He looped his arm around me and changed the movie to some funny cartoon. We sat together, laughing and watching, as time slipped away.

  He was ready to start another episode when his phone blared some kind of alarm. He pulled it out of his back pocket and looked at it. “Oh, shoot. Forgot something. I’ll be right back.” He tossed me the remote. “Don’t start it without me, all right?”

  When he jogged out of the room, I pulled out my phone to check the time. Midnight? We hadn’t been watching TV
that long, had we? I tucked my phone away without looking at anything else. My fingers itched to call the hospital and check on Papa, but they’d sent me away and told me to come back during visiting hours, which started at 7am. At least it was Saturday tomorrow, and I wouldn’t have to worry about skipping school.

  I glanced at the doorway that led to the stairs and the front door. I could leave; I should leave. But the thought of walking home at midnight didn’t appeal to me, and neither did staying home by myself. Papa was gone often with his friends, either to the VFW or church, but never overnight. The last time I had stayed in a house by myself was the night my parents rushed Susie to the hospital. I didn’t want to think about that.

  Amy snored noisily behind me, and I realized Ethan had been gone a while. I pushed to my feet and set out to find him. There weren’t many rooms downstairs: the living room, kitchen, a bathroom, and a locked door to either an office or a bedroom. I headed upstairs, where I figured Ethan had probably gone.

  “Ethan?” I called, checking the first door and realizing it was a bathroom. I headed to the next room with a door slightly ajar. I peeked in and spotted blue walls and a captain’s bed with a gray comforter. The walls were decorated with different sports balls, and a half dozen dolls sat on a shelf near the door. Deciding that was Amy’s room, I pulled the door shut and continued down the hall.

  “Ethan?” I tried again, pushing the next door open slightly.

  He was sitting on his bed with a bottle of pills in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. He startled when I opened the door and looked up at me. He hastily downed the water and tossed the pills into a cabinet on his headboard and slammed the door shut.

  “I was calling for you,” I said softly.

  “I heard you.”

  I stood in the doorway, not sure what to do. I’d honestly never been in a boy’s bedroom before. My parents had strict rules about friends of the opposite sex; but they were all the way across the world, and well, this was Ethan. He knew my secrets, and he didn’t run away, and I really liked him. A lot.

  “Can I come in?” I asked shyly.

  He shrugged, but I didn’t move.

  “What were those pills?” I was stalling. He knew it; I knew it.

  “Antidepressants,” he answered, then looked at his hands.

  Shame painted his face, and it tugged at my heart. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s ... embarrassing,” he protested, leaning back on his hands. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone at school?”

  I held up two fingers crossed and mumbled something in German.

  “What was that?”

  “An oath,” I told him. “A special one.”

  But despite my swear, I was scared to move. Why was I suddenly terrified to step in his room? Was it because, taking in the gray walls, his entertainment stand in one corner with five different game consoles and a huge TV, and the desk on the wall with a shiny new computer made me a little envious? A strange variety of art hung on the walls: some pencil sketches, a variety of outdoor scenes, a caricature drawing in a frame of someone that resembled him vaguely and a girl, and a large poster with different Shakespeare insults.

  He looked at me with a smirk on his face, almost daring me. It wasn’t the opulence or the art that scared me – it was simply the fact that Ethan and I were alone, and what had happened the last time we were alone? In a park? I didn’t want to...

  No, that was a lie.

  I learned about hormones in health class; it was a little scary, considering how one had ever bothered to explain it to me before. My parents had always just written off sex ed as something the Bible didn’t explain and they didn’t think it was their job to explain it, either. And forget asking anyone else. What sixteen-year-old didn’t know about sex ed?

  Me, obviously.

  But oh, there was a boy in front of me that could explain it all.

  And shoot, I was curious.

  A curious, sinning whore. That’s what I was.

  And there was no going back now.

  “Tay—” he started, but I took the giant leap that scared me and thrilled me at the same time.

  I entered his room, strode over to him, and flung myself on his lap. Wrapping my arms around his neck, he took the hint quickly and kissed me.

  “So tell me, Mr. Stud, what kind of protection you got in this room?”

  Ethan laughed. “Oh, Jesus Christ, Taylor.” His hand dropped away from me, and he rummaged, sight unseen, in the other drawer on his headboard, immediately retrieving a shiny gold and silver foil square. He held it up in two fingers. “You mean this?”

  I didn’t know what it was, but I trusted him. “Sure?”

  He frowned. “You’ve never seen a condom before? It’s like sex ed one-oh-one...”

  “Whatever.” I shrugged, my arms still around his neck. I kissed him again. “Just imagine, this time it’ll be less cold.”

  He laughed and pulled me back on the bed with him.

  Chapter 17

  Ethan

  (The next morning...)

  “Ethan!”

  Amy’s shriek was so loud I bolted up in my bed. I was shirtless and wearing boxers, but even so, I grabbed at the blanket to cover myself. My head was fuzzy from sleep, but the bed next to me was empty. Taylor was gone – had she snuck back home? Or hoofed it to the hospital? I felt under the blanket for my phone but came up empty. My hand brushed the sharp edge of a foil packet, and then I remembered exactly what had happened last night.

  The biggest distraction ever, my little sister, stood right next to my bed, wearing the same clothes she had on yesterday. She stared at me expectantly, until she stamped her foot and called my name again.

  “Amy. Good God.” I stifled a yawn and spotted my phone at the end of the bed. It was a little past seven in the morning. “What the heck are you doing up so early? Go back to bed.”

  “I’m hungry, and Mom’s not here to fix me eggs,” she whined. “And you forgot to clean up after nachos last night.”

  “Shit,” I expelled, and leaned back. “Give me a second, all right? I promise I’ll get dressed and make you some eggs.”

  “Yay!” She jumped up and down. “Oh, and Taylor’s downstairs making coffee. Did you guys have a slumber party?”

  Shiiiit. I held back the groan in my throat and banged my head on the headboard behind me.

  Amy stifled a giggle.

  “Why do you say that?” I asked her with a sideways glance, then making a funny face at her.

  She giggled again. “Well, it must have been some slumber party. You guys tried on a lot of clothes, and now Taylor’s in one of your t-shirts.” She stifled an innocent enough chuckle . “Dress up sounds like fun!” Amy turned and flounced out of the room, skipping all the way to the stairs.

  I expelled a groan as soon as she was gone. I slid out of bed and shut the door behind her, then got dressed. Amy was right; clothes were strewn everywhere. Sweatshirt and sweatpants, my jeans, my shirt, and even some ... unmentionables. I smiled as I picked up all of it, until I realized Taylor’s clothes were still in the dryer, and that at any moment one of my parents could walk in the door and wonder why there was a half-naked girl sitting in the kitchen with my sister.

  A small pang of guilt hit me; never in my life had I been so irresponsible. I never took girls home, that was my rule. My previous girlfriends only knew the backseat of my car, and once in the locker room. If my mother walked in right now, I could envision her pissed off face, hands on hip, tapping her heels against the linoleum look. She’d ground me, take my car, and then if I was lucky, leave me alive...

  I have to get Taylor out of here, and fast!

  Pulling shoes on as I went, I hurried down the stairs, nearly falling and breaking my neck, and skidded into the kitchen. Amy and Taylor were sitting at the island, Taylor hugging a mug in one hand, Amy with a coffee cup topped with whip cream in front of her, and Amy’s iPad between them. They were playing some app that required a lot
of touching the screen, and whatever it was, they were very competitive. Amy had her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth, and Taylor was half-way off the stool where she was sitting. What was worse was Amy was right about her wearing my t-shirt, which although baggy, didn’t cover her light blue underwear very well.

  The last thing I needed was for Taylor to panic, so I came up behind her and whispered in her ear about her clothes and pointed toward the dryer in the little alcove off the kitchen. She blushed and stood up, apologized to Amy, and hurried down the hall.

  “Look, Ethan, she made me hot chocolate!” She held up her mug proudly. “With whipped cream and sprinkles!”

  “That’s awesome, bud,” I told her, ruffling her hair a little. She batted me away, and I went in search of my own cup of coffee. Despite my calm movements, I still had three major problems: I didn’t know where my phone was – hence no idea when or if either of my parents would be home today – Taylor had to get out of my house, and Amy had to keep her mouth shut.

  Could I solve at least one of those problems right now?

  While Taylor had ducked into the hallway bathroom, I set about cleaning up the kitchen and whipping up eggs. “Hey, Amy?” I turned to her as I stirred the eggs around the pan. “Do you wanna make a super-secret deal?”

  She stared at me with a faint smile on her face, that way little kids do when they aren’t sure if it’s really a good deal or not. “I’m listening,” she announced, arms crossed and leaning back in her stool.

  I plated the eggs, sprinkled them with salt, and pushed the plate in front of her. “You know how much Mom hates junk food, right?”

  “And...?” It was drawn out, like I was taking too long to get to the point.

  My sister is much smarter than I ever give her credit for. I held up my little finger. “Pinkie promise me that I won’t tell Mom about the junk food if you don’t tell her Taylor ... and I had a slumber party?”