Messed Up

by Owens, Molly

  I showered and put on my favorite pair of jeans and the light blue tank top that I knew made me look tan. I must have peeked out of my window a dozen times, each time my heart sinking deeper when Levi’s car wasn’t there. Time moved slowly at first and then seemed to pick up momentum as the night got later. At ten o’clock I stuck the entire lasagna in the freezer, and went to my room to wallow in self pity. I had obviously been stood up.

  I picked up my cell phone, contemplating whether or not I should text him that I was going to bed and to not bother calling or coming over. I knew that I would never be so bold, but I found the thought to be strangely empowering. If only it would be that easy to cut him off, think of all the drama I would have avoided. I started to call Conner instead, but hung up before the first ring as I heard a car pull into my driveway. My stomach danced with excitement. How quickly my mood can change, I thought.

  I heard the door open and footsteps move up the stairs. I was in the hallway outside of my room when Levi turned the corner.

  “Forget how to knock?” I asked smiling at him.

  He didn’t reply. He walked to me, his eyes looking strangely severe. He put one hand on either side of my thighs and lifted me up so that I was straddling him. I giggled, not because anything was funny, but because I felt awkward. He carried me into my room and tossed me like a ragdoll onto the bed. His body came down onto mine, his weight nearly knocking the air from my lungs. I was suddenly aware of how strong he was, and more importantly, how weak I was. I could tell something was different by the way he kissed me. The pace of his lips against mine was more hurried and intense then I’d ever felt them before.

  Levi forced his hand under my shirt, adeptly unfastening my bra, and without so much as a pause, pulled my tank top over my head, letting it fall to the floor. With one hand he grabbed at my breasts roughly. It was too aggressive, painful even.

  “That hurts Levi,” I said weakly, but he ignored my complaint. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach turn from excitement to alarm. This is going too fast, I told myself.

  The hand on my breast moved to my shoulder and for a moment I felt relieved, but then his hand press down hard, pinning me to the bed, while his other hand worked to unbutton my pants. I froze as my jeans were pushed down hurriedly. Stop, I heard myself screaming inside my head, please stop. Levi began unbuttoning his own jeans. I became suddenly aware that my hands still existed. I pressed them hard against his chest, trying to push him off of me. He didn’t move or slow, but pressed down more strongly with his body.

  “Stop!” I said quietly, and then louder, “No. I don’t want this!” For a long moment he kept going, pulling his pants down, and then his boxers, “Levi, please. Stop,” I heard myself beg weakly.

  Suddenly he was off of me, pulling his pants back up. I stood up too, and turned my back to him as I fumbled with my own clothes. When I turned around again, Levi was sitting on a chair in the middle of my dark room. His elbows rested on his knees and his face was buried in his hands. Levi’s breath was rapid and the muscles on his jaw were tensed in an expression I recognized as anger. A flood of unfamiliar fear rolled through me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said with my voice breaking, “I just… want to… go slow. You know?”

  He didn’t speak for a while, but when he did his voice was livid, “How much slower could we fucking go, Chelsea?” He stood up, and unexpectedly slammed the palm of his hand into the wall. I watched as the picture frame with me and Hannah crashed to the floor.

  “I know. I’m sorry,” I felt myself beginning to cry. Panic and confusion began bubbling up inside me. Where was this coming from? How come I hadn’t anticipated this? “Don’t go. Please. Please, don’t go,” I begged, “I’ll do it. It’s fine. I’m fine,” I heard myself saying desperately.

  “Whatever Chelsea,” he sounded disgusted. He walked out of my room. I listened silently to each of his heavy footsteps down the stairs, to the front door slamming behind him, to his car starting up and peeling out in front of my house, and only then did I start to really lose it.

  My sobs were hysterical. I stood looking at myself in the mirror and yelled like a lunatic, “What’s your problem Chelsea? Every other sixteen year old girl on the face of the planet would have sex with her freaking boyfriend. Why do you have to be different? What’s the big deal? Levi is practically perfect and you just ruined it. You ruined everything.” This rant only brought on more tears. I threw myself on the bed and kicked and screamed like a two year old having a full-on temper tantrum.

  After every last tear was forced out of my eyeballs and my voice was horse from yelling. I picked up the phone to call the one person on this continent that could make me feel better. Conner answered his phone sounding half asleep. I hadn’t taken into account it was well past midnight by this point.

  “Oh, sorry Con. I forgot how late it was,” I said, feeling tears begin to well up in my eyes again.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked ignoring my apology, “You sound like you’ve been crying.”

  His concern got the waterworks going once more, and I cried loudly into the phone for a while, trying to catch my breath enough to speak.

  “Did something happen with Levi?” he asked softly between my gasps.

  “Yes,” I managed to say.

  “Are you at home?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m going to come over, okay?”

  “Yeah,” that was enough to start me sobbing all over again. How totally emo can you be?

  I have often wondered how many calories are burned by crying, because I always feel like I’ve run a marathon after a long sob-fest, as if every bone and muscle in my body is ready to call it a day. So by the time Conner got to my house, I was more or less asleep. I had changed into my most comfortable pajamas, oversized flannels with puppy dogs all brushing their teeth. I didn’t care that I looked like a four years old in them or that it was a scorching night and flannel was probably an impractical choice. I climbed into my bed and pulled the blanket up under my chin. My TV was on, but it was muted, sending flashing light bouncing off the four walls of my bedroom. I heard Conner, knocking at the door, but I was too tired to answer it. I knew he’d eventually just walk in. It wasn’t locked.

  When he finally entered my room, his face wore an expression of pained concern. He took off his shoes and got under the covers with me, pulling me into one of his tender hugs. At first I felt nothing, my body and mind numb. But slowly I began to notice a warm sensation travel through me. I felt my breath release and my jaw unclench. Neither of us said anything, and I eventually let myself give into a restless sleep.

  It was still dark outside when I woke up. I stumbled to the bathroom and changed into more seasonally appropriate pajamas. The flannel doggies were sopping wet with sweat. I splashed water on my face which I noticed was puffy and red from all the crying. I tiptoed back into my room, but Conner was already awake, looking at me curiously.

  “Do you want to talk?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  I nodded my head and joined him on my bed. Leaning against the wall I let my legs fall over his. I slowly explained every detail of the evening. How I’d felt rejected when Levi had stood me up, how he had come at me with an aggressiveness that I had found frightening, how I blamed myself for him leaving. Conner listened like he always did, with compassion and understanding and without judgment.

  “Why couldn’t I just have had sex with him, you know?” I asked, my voice strained, “Then everything would be okay. He would still be here.”

  “Chelsea, that may have made everything okay with him, but what about with you? How would you feel if you’d done something you weren’t ready for?”

  “Not any worse than I feel right now!” I said, suddenly frustrated, “Now that I have totally ruined any chance with him.”

  “Listen,” Conner said, still calm, “I know you think that Levi is the most perfect guy on the planet. I also know that you don’t feel like you are good enough for him,” I n
odded emphatically to both of these points, he continued, “But have you considered that maybe you’re not seeing the situation clearly because you are so enmeshed in it?”

  I looked at him with confusion, “What?”

  “How perfect could he be? Would the perfect guy make you feel guilty and ashamed for standing up for yourself? Wouldn’t the perfect guy have asked you if you were ready to take such an important step with him?”

  “Okay, so maybe he’s not perfect. I don’t want perfection, I want him. I love him,” I could feel the tears begin to well up in my eyes again.

  “I know you do, Chels,” he reached for my hand and gently pulled me into his arms, “I just hope you don’t lose too much of who you are trying to make him happy, because who you are is good and kind and beautiful and smart and funny and creative and everything any guy could hope for. And you are all of that without him or anyone.”

  “You sound like my mom,” I grumbled.

  “Just, don’t sell yourself short, Chelsea.”

  16

  This must be what a hangover feels like, I thought to myself as I refilled the hot fudge trough at Yogurt Heaven the next morning. My head was pounding and my eyelids felt heavy. I hadn’t fallen back asleep again after my conversation with Conner. I kept thinking about what he said about not compromising for anyone. I knew, of course, that he was right. But there is a world of difference between knowing something intellectually and living it in reality. I watched a long dripping stream of fudge fold its way into the tub and I gagged. I’d been feeling queasy all morning. Maybe it was the gallon of Dr. Pepper I’d sucked down on an empty stomach.

  I was relieved to be working with Shawn that morning, she was easy to be around because she didn’t feel the need to make conversation, and more importantly she wasn’t Bryce, whom I would have been tempted to grill for information about Levi. It was Friday, one of the busier days at Yogurt Heaven, which was a blessing too. The necessity of attending to paying customers kept my mind off of the long evening I had in store. Conner had gone camping with his dad and grandfather. He’d offered to cancel, but I knew I’d already been a drain on him, and figured he deserved a night off from my oppressive neediness.

  All morning I served one customer after the next, taking my time to make perfect little swirling mountains of frozen yogurt and then carefully applying the toppings in a manner I thought looked almost artful. None of my patrons seemed all that enthusiastic about my creations. I was totally absorbed in applying raspberries, one by one, on top of a perfect cone of coconut yogurt when Shawn tapped me on the shoulder.

  “You can go, Chelsea. Your shift ended fifteen minutes ago,” she said.

  “Really? Time sure flies.”

  After leaving Yogurt Heaven, I wandered around the mall for a while, not going into stores, just walking aimlessly. I saw Becca browsing around the Forever 21, but ducked behind a cell phone kiosk to avoid the perfunctory conversation about how our summers were going, blah, blah, blah. I was so not in the mood for her. I decided I’d better get out of the mall before I ran into someone else I knew. I walked to the parking lot with my mind in a daze, and all of a sudden, there he was.

  Levi was sitting on the hood my car. I froze about ten feet from him. He was looking at me with his piercing blue eyes that seemed to be searching my mind, reading my thoughts. I took a deep breath. Part of me wanted to stay right where I was. Maybe I could freeze time that way, I thought, if I didn’t say anything, then maybe he would never have the chance to tell me it was over. But he spoke first, breaking the silence.

  “You’re late,” he said, his mouth turning up slightly.

  “Window shopping. Um, actually more like large front door shopping,” I responded, my voice faltering. I stood unmoving in my place, not knowing what to do with my body.

  “Come here,” he said quietly, motioning for me to sit next to him.

  I moved slowly with deliberate footsteps, keeping my gaze downward, as I sat beside him. The distance between our bodies felt so obvious, unnatural. How much was it I wondered, six inches, it felt like miles. My hands were shaking as I planted them firmly on either side of my body for added stability. Tears began to build, so I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Don’t cry, don’t cry, I chanted silently to myself.

  “So how bad did I fuck everything up?” Levi asked in a quiet voice.

  I was stunned. What did he just say? And then he turned his body towards mine, so that he could rest his forehead on my shoulder.

  “I am an asshole Chelsea. I know that. I’m so sorry I treated you disrespectfully.”

  I turned to him taking his face between my hands, relief flooding my body, “No, I’m sorry for overreacting. I just… I’ve just never done that before. I was scared and wanted to go slower.”

  Levi grinned, “Wait. Are you saying you’re a virgin?” he asked sounding shocked.

  I felt my face turn about as red as the car I was sitting on, “You don’t have to sound so stunned,” I said looking away.

  “No, I think it’s sweet. I should have known. No drinking, no drugs, no sex,” he laughed, “I really could corrupt you,” then he added seriously, “You must think I am such a jerk.”

  “No,” I said simply, “I mean, it’s not like I am totally against the idea.”

  “I hope not,” he smiled.

  “I just want to feel ready,” I clarified.

  “Promise me I’ll be the first to know when that time comes,” he said, “And I’ll promise to make it special,” he pulled me close to him, hugging me tightly and covering my face with light kisses. My body began to relax. It was like I was breathing normally for the first time all day.

  “I have something for you,” he said pulling his backpack over his shoulders, “An apology gift.”

  “That’s not necessary,” I smiled at him, “But pass it over.” He pulled out a package covered in white tissue paper. I tore off the wrapping and immediately squealed, “No way!” It was the pair of True Religion jeans I had been coveting for months, “How did you know?” I asked noticing they were my size.

  “A little birdie, who happens to be your big sister told me,” he answered looking pleased with himself.

  “You called her?”

  “Yep. I think she likes me too. It’s always good to have the big sister on your team.”

  “You don’t even know how bad I have wanted these,” I said hugging the jeans like they were a long lost friend, “I think my life is complete,” I beamed, but then added, “This is too much, though Levi. These are pricey.”

  “Nothing is too good for my little Punky,” he said kissing me on the cheek, “Besides I hope they will help you remember me while I’m gone.”

  “What? Where are you going?” I could feel my heart sinking. How could he be leaving when were just making up?

  “That’s why I was late to your house last night. My father and I got into a huge fight. He’s making me go with him on a business trip.”

  “When are you leaving?” I asked hopeful that we could at least have one night together.

  “In a couple hours,” he looked at me and smiled, “I know, it sucks, and making up is the best part.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  He shrugged, “Not sure. A while,” he looked at his watch, “I’d better get going actually.” Levi jumped down off my car and leaned his forehead against mine, “I’ll be missing you, Punky."

  “Me too,” I said feeling extremely disappointed. It is so annoying how quickly things can go from bad to good and then to bad again. It’s enough to give a girl motion sickness.

  I stood up to kiss Levi good bye. “I’ll call you when I can,” he said holding my chin between his thumb and forefinger, “I love you, Chelsea,” he began to walk toward his car, but then turned back and added, “Hey, no more sleepovers with your little girlfriend, okay.” He was gone before I had the chance to let that sink in.

  17

  One time when I was in the third grade my teache
r caught me hording erasers in a little jar in my desk. She didn’t confront me directly; instead she just announced to the class, “If anyone needs an eraser, Chelsea should be able to help you.” I felt then exactly as I did at that very moment. I’d been caught doing something only vaguely against the rules, and although I was not outwardly implicated, the message was clear: I know what you’re up to young lady, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll make some behavior changes, and fast.

  There was no question in my mind that when Levi had said, girlfriend he was referring to Conner. The question was: how did he know that Conner had slept over last night? I reasoned that Levi was probably coming back to my house and saw a truck in the driveway and assumed it was Conner’s. It wouldn’t take much to put two and two together. I could understand that he wouldn’t want some guy sleeping at my house. I would flip a serious lid if I thought Levi was having a slumber party with Camille. Nevertheless, Conner was a sacred subject with me, and I became inwardly defensive. He can’t tell me what to do, I thought angrily to myself.

  My hostility lasted about two seconds, before I forced myself to let it go. I had spent the last day completely despondent with the thought that Levi was breaking up with me. The reality of the situation was he could have told me to shave my own head, and if he said it with that amazing smile on his face I would ask, “Where’s the razor?” I know, you don’t need to tell me. It’s pathetic.

  I unfolded my new pair of jeans on my lap, inspecting them carefully. My heart fluttered happily at Levi’s gesture. But it was way more than the gesture I was excited about, I couldn’t wait to wear the perfect pants he’d bestowed upon me.