“I THOUGHT WE COULD HAVE DINNER together.” My mom whined this, sounding like a little kid. “We have things to discuss.”
“I can’t.” I hustled past her toward a much-needed shower. I had dropped Sadie off at Trav’s, then driven home to change into my running clothes. It was cold outside, but I had needed a run to clear my head. Now I was back and had less than an hour to make myself human again before it was back to Matt’s for another night of the same old same old. “I’m sorry.”
My mom pinched her lips à la Miriam Johnson. “No, I’m sorry. I wish we had time to sit down as a family.”
“Yeah, we seem to be missing that whole family connection thing lately, don’t we?” I felt bad after saying that, but I was reeling from my day, and it still stung whenever I thought about my parents’ lies and secrets. I continued up the stairs.
My mom yelled after me, “You better be here for Christmas Eve with the Johnsons!”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I muttered.
Once in the shower I turned everything inside myself off. The steam billowed around me, filling every pore with a misty thickness. It felt like my body was swelling with the bullshit stuffed inside me, which had nowhere to go. The steam was sealing it all in. I twisted the shower handle to cold, trying to rinse the steam away. It was stifling me, making me choke in the haze.
I turned the water off and stepped out, toweling off before wiping down the mirror. I looked at myself and turned to the side, pushing my abdomen out. My hip bones stuck out too far, and my tits were mini, but the tiny little belly I had going when I pushed it out like this made me look a little preggers. I relaxed, and my stomach fell flat again. Sadie’s wouldn’t do that. Hers would just keep getting bigger.
Back in my room I was disgusted to find that my Matt’s T-shirts were all dirty. Laundry had become my own responsibility about two years ago, and I was bad at it. I grabbed the shirt closest to the top of my dirty clothes pile and gave it a deep sniff. Not terrible—a few hours at Matt’s and I’d just smell like fresh grease anyway. It could be worse.
When I got downstairs, my dad was sitting on the couch in the living room waiting for me. He had a magazine open, but it was on a spread advertising Mint Milano cookies, so I knew he wasn’t really reading it. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hey, pumpkin.” He smiled at me reassuringly, which made me a little uncomfortable. “What have you been up to all day?”
“Not much.” I grabbed my shoes from the basket by the front door and started untying the laces. “How’d it go on Monday?” My mom was in the kitchen, talking on the phone, so I knew I had a few minutes alone with my dad.
“Good, good.”
“What’s the story, then?” I had my laces untied and was starting to fasten the shoes onto my feet. It was weird how my voice defied my feelings—I sounded way more cool and controlled than I’d thought I would, considering the fact that I was freaking out about what he’d learned from the doctor. I guess my morning had numbed me so I could handle challenging conversations. “Everything good?”
“They did some tests and talked about some options.” His voice was even, and I knew he was trying to sound casual. “We should know more in a few days.”
“Okay.”
“Chastity?” He was waiting for me to look up. I did. “I’m sorry we kept it from you.”
“It’s fine.” I smiled, attempting to show how little I cared. I was fooling no one. “I have to get to work.”
He stood up. “Got a hug for your old dad?”
I made it a quick squeeze, feeling his chubby belly smush under mine. “See you later, old man.” Dad grinned, and I felt a little bit better.
You would think after our afternoon together I would have heard from Sebastian, right? I mean, we had sort of clicked, I thought. Sure, he wasn’t going to be the sex toy I’d hoped he would be, but we could still be friends. I liked his attitude, and I guess I thought—if nothing else—he was sort of entertained by me. He was an escape from Milton, and I had started to think maybe there was hope for a little something … a friendship, even.
But no. During the course of a shift at Matt’s—one whole dinner rush and the usual Christmas week evening crowd—he didn’t make a single appearance. He hadn’t called my cell, nothing. Not even a text to make sure I was cool after yesterday’s sudden departure. He made me want to scream. I had never doubted myself like this before, and it killed me that he had this kind of power over me. How could I have been so stupid to let my guard down around him?
I vowed to take the control back again, this time for good, and stop letting a silly little crush mess with my head the way it was. Enough was enough. “Hey, Danny,” I called out during my break. I was sitting at the bar drinking a Coke. Danny was washing dishes behind the bar and immediately sauntered over.
“Yes, your highness?” I was pretty sure he was wearing a tinted lip color. His lips were unnaturally rich-looking. “You called?”
“What are you up to after work?”
“Hanging out with you.”
Danny was a little cheesy, but his arrogance cracked me up. “Okay,” I agreed. “You guys want to come over to my house again?” I knew my parents would be fine with it—my mom would probably make us snacks to get back on my good side.
Danny narrowed his eyes. “Can we make it a smaller group this time?” He leaned in toward me. Now I was sure his lips were tinted with something. They couldn’t possibly be that soft and supple-looking without enhancement. “Skip the little girls we had over last time—maybe just you, me, Ange, and Ryan?”
“Yeah,” I shrugged. “You don’t want to bring your fan club along? You’re sure?”
“I don’t need fans—I’ll have you.” He was totally serious. For real. Danny Idol had just uttered one of the lamest lines in the history of lines, and he had no idea it hadn’t had the effect he’d hoped it would.
“Danny,” I said, grabbing his shirt and pulling him in closer to me across the bar. “This could be fun tonight. But if you say anything that ridiculous again, I guarantee this will be the lamest night you’ve had since you became Danny Idol.”
He seemed to get it, since he lifted his hands up in a surrender pose and backed up. When he was back in place in front of the sink, scrubbing glasses, he looked over at me and winked. The rest of the night Danny was on his best behavior, cracking cute little jokes every time I passed him on my way to the kitchen or beaming at me from across the room. He was pretty charming, and I could understand his appeal for just about every girl (and grown woman) in town.
Almost as soon as we got to my house, we left Angela and Ryan in the basement and went upstairs to my room. My parents’ room was way down the hall, so I wasn’t too concerned about privacy. It was also after midnight, so they’d been asleep for at least two hours.
“What’s this?” Danny asked, standing near my bed and pointing to a picture of me at a track meet back in eighth grade. “Cute hair.”
“Funny,” I stated. “Feel free to look around. Poke through all my personal stuff.”
“Thanks, I think I will.” His eyes were a little red around the edges, and I was pretty sure he’d smoked up out back of Matt’s before we’d left for my house. He was handling himself pretty well, considering, but it still irked me a little bit that he felt the need to get high before hanging out.
“Let me know if you have any questions.” I said. “I’d be happy to walk you through the embarrassing stages of my life, one by one.”
He chuckled, fingering one of my everyone’s a winner track ribbons from elementary school. I sat at my desk chair and watched him browsing around my room. He asked me some questions about Sadie and my parents—the subjects of most of my pictures—and we talked about a few of his favorite bands.
The conversation was very forgettable, but I was enjoying myself. Danny had a laid-back quality that amused me, and he was an easy conversationalist.
“Do you ever just chill?” he asked suddenly, watching me watch him from across the room. “I feel like you’re studying me like some kind of animal.”
“Maybe I am.” I shrugged and lifted one eyebrow.
“You’re sexy, Chaz.” His cocky, know-it-all smile was back. Maybe this was his flirt face? “You know that, though, don’t you?” He stopped his wandering and sat down on my bed. He patted the space next to him, so I climbed in and wondered where this might be going. No one would deny that Danny Idol was eye candy, and he certainly wasn’t a boring option. What harm could come from a little playful flirting and maybe some making out?
He started to tickle me—was this his way of breaking down my guard?
There are three girls at school (yes, Tina Zander is one of them) who are widely known as sluts. In truth they haven’t slept with many people—or maybe even anyone. But they are very indiscriminating about who they’ll make out with and who is allowed to put hands down their pants. They “get around,” to use the common language.
And that is the difference between them and me—I’m picky, and I’m not interested in getting a reputation. Sure, I want experience. But I’ve always been careful about who I experiment with.
So when faced with the opportunity to exercise my sexuality with Danny Idol, the hometown hero who was only around for the holidays … well, it was a pretty easy decision. He was cute, made me laugh, and wouldn’t have the opportunity to talk about our rendezvous in the high school locker room after hockey practice.
He tickled me again, this time reaching for my hips. I squirmed and let him run his fingers over me some more. My body moved toward him as he reached around to tickle my back. I pushed my hips against him, and that was all he needed as a green light.
Suddenly, his lips were on me, kissing me on the mouth, on the ear, down my neck. His hands moved fast, and he had unsnapped my bra without me even knowing. I was impressed. The guy had moves, and I told him so. That made him laugh, and he wrapped his hand around my leg to pull it up and around him. He was on top of me, pushing down hard. I was short of breath and really starting to get into it. I could get used to this—unlike Hunter, who left me feeling about as charged as a dead battery, Danny had a power that made me want to grab his hair and pull. He had me fired up.
When his hand moved to flip open the button on my jeans, I let him. He pulled my pants down, and I was lying there in just my underwear with my Matt’s T-shirt twisted around my chest. Momentarily, I thought about how much action this T-shirt had seen lately. My lucky tee.
“You’re so hot,” he breathed in my ear. I shut my eyes, and my mind flashed to Sebastian. I let my imagination take me where it wanted, and I pictured Sebastian lying here on top of me, muttering the same nonsense in my ear. When I thought about Sebastian, and the way I felt when I was with him, it made me tingle. I got totally into it, and Danny and I made out for I don’t know how long.
Things sort of stayed on a plateau, until suddenly I felt his hand slip down my side and tug at the top of my underwear. Simultaneously, he was pulling his own pants down, bringing his body and mine even closer together. I wanted this and was ready to go for it—this was it.
Danny breathed in my ear. Things kept going, further and further, and within minutes Danny’s pants were down around his knees and he was coming at me. I felt naked skin against my leg; then he brought his mouth to my ear. He whispered, “I swear I’m clean, so we don’t need protection.”
“Nuh-uh,” I murmured back. “I won’t do that.”
“I’m allergic to latex,” he whispered then. “I can’t wear a condom—let’s just try? For a couple seconds?”
It wasn’t just the image of Sadie that stopped me then. It was Sadie and Sebastian and even a little bit of Hunter. But it was also the begging, together with the expectation that I’d be stupid enough to have sex with him without protection. I wasn’t a fool. He was a wannabe rock star who used the lingering fumes of his almost-fame to get whatever he could. I was sure he’d been with at least a few girls since his Idol days. Ick. If I slept with him without protection, it was like I was sleeping with everyone else he’d slept with. “You’re on your own,” I said, then slipped off the bed and pulled my underwear back up.
I walked over to my desk and sat down. Danny lay on my bed and finished himself off into a tissue while I checked my e-mail.
Why and how had this ever seemed like a reasonable idea?