Burned

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Burned Page 13

by Ellen Hopkins


  he fell into a satisfied slumber.

  It was all so natural, yet so completely

  new, listening to the rhythm of his

  breathing beneath my ear.

  Only the beginning…

  What that might mean was way too

  frightening to consider. In my

  limited realm of experience,

  beginnings led to endings.

  I ran my hand lightly over his body,

  memorized muscle and bone.

  He responded with a sigh.

  I breathed him in.

  He smelled of apples, horse, and well-earned

  sweat, which I somehow found

  attractive. He smelled real.

  He was real. Wasn’t he?

  If I awoke in the morning to find him

  gone, would I think it was all a dream?

  Or would I more likely believe

  it was all a mistake?

  I Awoke

  To the colorless pall of early morning,

  and a hint of dew on my bedroll.

  It took a few seconds to realize where

  I was and when I did, the night before

  absolutely seemed like only a dream.

  And yet, there was Ethan, beside me.

  He rolled toward me, cracked one eye,

  and said, Morning, m’lady. Sleep well?

  I smiled. “I’m not exactly sure. Last night

  seems a bit hazy.” (Where did I dig up “coy”?)

  Ethan pretended hurt. Is that so?

  Well, tell me, how much is clear?

  “Let me see. I remember sitting by the fire,

  ravenously consuming a cold supper…”

  Okay, sounds like we were both in

  the same general vicinity. What else?

  “Something regarding coyotes…

  and was there a discussion about God?”

  God and extraterrestrial life. A deep

  philosophical dialogue. After that?

  “Hmm…I’m trying to remember, really

  I am. Can you give me a little hint?”

  With pleasure. Our second kiss, though shorter,

  was every bit as memorable as the first.

  Shorter Because Aunt J

  Was already up and singing

  a Garth Brooks ballad,

  accompanied by the paw

  of horses, an occasional

  moo, and the good-natured

  yip-yip of dogs.

  She glanced our way, no

  shock, no anger, then gave

  a wink absent of “I told you so.”

  Sorry to say breakfast is more

  of dinner, only staler. But I’m

  betting you two are hungry.

  Hungry, why? Exactly

  how much did she know?

  Surely she hadn’t witnessed

  the vivid scene the night

  before! Had she seen us

  sleeping head to shoulder?

  Ethan excused himself

  and wandered over behind

  the deadfall. Aunt J took

  the opportunity to observe,

  Hope you got a little sleep.

  It’s a decent ride home.

  I scooted out of my

  bedroll, drew closer to

  the morning campfire. So

  much I wanted to say, but

  where to start? I settled

  for, “Thanks, Aunt J.”

  Her eyes, honest,

  took hold of my own.

  Nothing to thank me

  for. Just keep on shining

  that light. The rest will

  take care of itself.

  Without Cattle to Keep Track Of

  The ride home

  was more

  relaxed.

  Even Old Poncho

  seemed more

  at ease,

  swaying his head

  as he clomped along.

  Ethan

  kept his black close

  by my side,

  and I,

  for the first time

  in my life,

  felt

  like anything was

  possible, everything

  right.

  For five hours,

  in fact, I

  felt

  so fine I didn’t once

  overanalyze the

  perfect

  emotion, budding

  inside. The

  one

  I’d always feared

  most.

  Closing In on Home

  Aunt J reined in Paprika.

  Ethan, Pattyn has never really had a taste

  of a good horse underneath her. Put her

  on back and give her a dose, would you?

  I climbed up behind him,

  shaking slightly, both at the idea of what

  was to come, and the idea of cinching

  my arms tight around him.

  The black didn’t much

  care for the notion of double, but Ethan

  was most definitely in control. The horse

  tensed as Ethan said, Fasten your seat belt.

  I did as instructed, wrapping myself

  around him like duct tape. Aunt J took

  charge of Poncho as Ethan urged Diego

  forward. Two steps and we hit a dead gallop.

  God, what a feeling! Beneath

  a layer of denim, the gelding’s muscles

  flexed and pulsed as we picked up speed.

  I buried my face in Ethan’s shirt, closed my eyes.

  I was flying, no less than an eagle.

  I was belly to back with the most incredible

  man in the world, a man who had kissed me

  like I never expected to be kissed. Ever.

  I was the luckiest girl in the world.

  Deep in my brain, I heard Aunt J’s words.

  True love finds you once, if you’re lucky.

  Had true love come knocking at my door?

  Back at the Ranch

  Ethan clearly didn’t want to

  leave right away, and Aunt J,

  bless her heart, said,

  I appreciate your help. Least I can

  do is offer you a hot supper.

  Shouldn’t take long.

  Ethan and I walked the horses,

  cooling them down before letting

  them eat or drink.

  We paced in a large circle,

  side by side, letting our bodies

  touch, loving the touch.

  Ethan was warmth in the cooling

  night, a lantern in drawing darkness.

  Yet my high began to sink.

  The events of the last two days had

  left me breathless. I wanted more.

  Did I expect too much?

  Ethan had something on his mind.

  I could almost hear the churn

  of words inside his head.

  My heart lifted into my throat.

  Everything felt so right. Would he

  tell me instead it was wrong?

  As If Reading My Mind

  Ethan stopped, took my hand.

  Pattyn, hold on a second.

  I’m not really sure what came over me…

  No! Please no? Oh God, not

  “had to happen sometime.”

  My face must have crumbled.

  No, no. I’m not saying I made

  a mistake. It just happened so fast.

  Falling for you, I mean.

  Falling? In love? In lust? Where

  else could you fall? Without answers,

  I didn’t know what to say.

  The first time I saw you—at the grocery

  store that day—there was something

  about you. Something sad, deep down sad…

  How could I forget that day?

  The day my father abandoned me.

  The day I would forever thank him for.

  But there was also a touch of
redemption.

  I wondered how the two could coexist

  in the same soul. I was so sad myself….

  How could he have seen all that

  in just one passing glance? On that

  day I didn’t feel very redeemed.

  I wanted to know you. When I saw you

  with your Aunt Jeanette, I knew

  I’d get my chance.

  Ethan pulled me into his arms, kissed

  my forehead. I looked up into

  his eyes and found my answers.

  I just want you to feel the same

  way. If you want me to back off,

  slow things down, I will.

  I shook my head. “Don’t back

  off, Ethan.” I reached up, put

  my arms around his neck,

  and this time I kissed him.

  Journal Entry, June 19

  I can’t sleep. Maybe I’ll

  never sleep again. Does your

  brain ever shut down, once

  you fall in love?

  Am I in love?

  It sure feels like love.

  Ethan is everything any girl

  could ask for. And he promises

  he wants me. Why me?

  Shut up, Pattyn. Quit asking

  that question. Why even

  care why he wants you?

  Isn’t it enough that he does?

  I know guys lie.

  Enjoy the game.

  But I have to believe

  Ethan is different.

  Do his eyes lie?

  His kisses?

  When he kisses me, it’s

  like being born again.

  Born where love isn’t

  just a word, but something

  alive, throbbing with life.

  That’s how I feel tonight.

  Throbbing with life.

  Did Mom and Dad ever

  feel like this?

  For each other?

  I want to believe it.

  But I can’t.

  Ethan Started Stopping By

  Every evening on his way home.

  June was a hazy blur of days with Aunt J,

  mostly spent in nervous anticipation

  of evenings with Ethan.

  Aunt J never said a disapproving

  word, but after a week or so, she

  did offer an obligatory warning.

  You two seem to be getting

  serious. I can’t expect you

  to keep saying no. But I hope

  you know how to be careful.

  Up till then, I hadn’t had to say no.

  Ethan treated me with nothing but

  respect. But things had definitely heated up.

  A time or two, cradled in his lap,

  kissing until his desire became

  obvious, I had almost wanted to.

  But even though most of me

  was a new, liberated Pattyn, traces

  of the old, conservative Pattyn

  lingered, hard to shake off.

  The next-to-the-last thing I wanted

  was a baby. The very last thing

  I wanted was ever having to tell

  my dad I was pregnant.

  Thursday, June 29

  Kicked off the extra-long

  Fourth of July weekend.

  It also happened to be

  my seventeenth birthday.

  I truly expected a card

  from Mom and Dad.

  Never arrived.

  Never even got a call.

  To be fair, Jackie sent

  a card a few days late.

  Said girls’ camp was

  entertaining, especially

  when they tried to freak

  everyone out with scary

  stories about Satan

  dropping in overnight.

  She said Mom was about

  as big as a dairy cow,

  ’Lyssa had her first period,

  Teddie had her first crush,

  Davie got straight A’s,

  Roberta lost her two front teeth,

  Georgia still sucked her thumb,

  and Dad was meaner than ever.

  Everything pissed him off.

  The window he had to pay

  for, the ER bill he had

  to pay for, tithing 10 percent

  when everything was up

  10 percent and he had a new baby

  coming. Diapers were up 10 percent.

  And Johnnie was up 20 percent.

  I wanted to write her back,

  tell her none of that mattered,

  that out here in the real world

  were people like Aunt J. And

  Ethan. I wanted to tell

  her everything about him.

  But I knew any letter from me

  would never get past my dad.

  Back to My Birthday

  What a celebration Aunt J planned!

  We would drive into Cedar City, Utah,

  (the nearest “big city”) for a shopping

  spree. Later, Ethan would join us

  for dinner and a movie. A movie!

  Wal-Mart served as Cedar City’s

  unofficial “mall.” And that was close

  enough for me. Stuff. Tons

  and tons of stuff. Just looking at

  all that stuff made me kind of delirious.

  Sure, I’d been to Wal-Mart before, but

  never after weeks of feed stores

  and mini-marts. Aunt J planned

  on stocking the pantry, and I planned

  on having a great time helping her.

  We strolled along the clothing aisle,

  commenting on summer fashions.

  Aunt J insisted I model blouses

  and shorts and jeans. Anything I

  liked went into the shopping cart.

  I couldn’t believe it. Store-bought

  clothes were like gold in my house.

  Owning Wally’s was as good

  as owning Old Navy or even Macy’s.

  And, hey, they carried Wranglers.

  But there was more. Books. Music—

  a small CD player and discs to go

  in it. Pricey shampoo and sweet-smelling

  lotion. Makeup. I tried

  to protest, but Aunt J wouldn’t listen.

  It makes me happy to see a smile

  on your face. Besides, I’ve got money

  growing mold in the bank. Might

  as well spend a little before I die.

  We Spent More Than a Little

  I won’t confess exactly how much,

  but I’d never before seen a register

  ring up a total like that.

  (Not even a week’s worth

  shopping trip for a family of nine!)

  On the way to dinner, I slithered into

  a new pair of jeans—my very first.

  Is there anything quite as wonderful

  as developing a relationship

  with brand-new jeans?

  Above them went a crocheted shell,

  soft turquoise in color. Even I had to admit

  it looked great over the tan of my arms.

  (Not to mention muscles, newly

  defined by yard work.)

  Above that went a light brush of coral blush

  (Aunt J said the color went best with my skin tone)

  and a stroke or two of soft black mascara.

  Somehow I managed it with

  only the tiniest smear.

  And when I stepped down from the pickup,

  I felt a year older. A decade wiser.

  Prettier than I’d ever believed I could feel.

  That’s how Ethan saw me when

  he found us at the restaurant.

  They Say the World Sees You

  As you see yourself,

  and that night I saw myself in a different way.

  Pretty. Almost desirable.

  Ethan’s eyes told me I was
both. And more.

  He kissed me. In front

  of the whole restaurant. Happy birthday, Pattyn.

  We had so much fun

  at dinner—authentic Mexican cuisine, the real deal.

  Before that night, Taco Bell

  had defined my total experience with Mexican food.

  I let Aunt J order for me.

  “Anything but tacos, please. I want to try something new.”

  Steak fajitas arrived

  at the table, sizzling and steaming in a cast-iron skillet.

  I polished them off and just

  as I finished up, our waitress plopped a sombrero on my head.

  Another waitress joined her,

  carrying three plates of flan. One had a candle in the middle.

  They sang “Feliz Cumpleaños,”

  the Mexican equivalent of “Happy Birthday,” and everyone clapped.

  And as we left for the movie,

  it crossed my mind that I didn’t really need a birthday card from home.

  Aunt J Surprised Me Again

  You two take in

  the movie without

  me. I’m tired and

  it’s a long drive

  home for these

  achin’ bones.

 

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