I'm Not That Girl

I rocked back and forth on my feet, trying to forget that I had just had that goddamned dream again. The one with Jesse's old girlfriend; Jesse's dead, perfect girlfriend.

I could hear her voice – well, the voice that my dreams put on her. That taunting voice. She had currently come up with another round of the usual about how she was basically a sexual athlete and Jesse was going to dump me on my pathetic ass because I was boring.

I rubbed at my eyes and looked into the mirror. It wasn't that I was bad looking or anything. I had a nice enough body and I'd been told I had pretty eyes and hair. Jesse seemed to really love my hair, playing with it, kissing it and all of that.

So why was I letting some dead bitch in a dream continually get me down?

Well, I knew why, but I wasn't going to think about that right now.

I splashed some water on my face. In fifteen minutes, I'd drive to school and pick up Brock, bring him home and wait for Jesse to come over. Then I could tell myself that it was all in my head, that he really did love me and I was just overreacting.

I sighed, scrubbed at my face and turned to open the door. I breathed in. It was all going to be okay.

The bed was soft, and I snuggled into it as Jesse climbed in beside me, fitting his chin against my shoulder.

"You've been quiet today," he murmured.

"Just thinking," I told him. I was glad that my back was to him. There was no way I wanted to admit all the shit that had been going through my head.

"About what?"

I turned over and looked at him.

Maybe I'd beat her at her own game.

"That… maybe we ought to spice things up a bit? Try something different?"

Jesse smiled.

"Like what? I just mean… You've never, like, mentioned that before."

"I mean…" I started, and I could feel my face growing red. How was I supposed to do it if I couldn't even say it? "I was just thinking. Read an article in a magazine."

Jesse raised an eyebrow, looking interested. He pressed a kiss against my cheek before moving back to prop his head up under his arm.

"About what?"

I flushed again and whispered, "You know…"

This was not going to work. There was Jane's voice in my head again, reminding me that she'd have had no problem producing the word.

I swallowed hard and reached out, running my hand over Jesse's back, down to his ass before locking eyes with him.

"You know," I repeated.

Jesse grinned.

"I think I do," he replied with a smile. "You sure?" I swallowed again, then nodded. He moved his hand to my back and stroked his fingers down my spine. "You're shaking."

I was.

"Just nervous," I told him. "Let's do this." I put on a smile and looked at him. I could see him consider it a moment, before nodding and rising off the bed. Jesse returned a few seconds later, with a small purple-and-white tube.

"You haven't… before?"

I shook my head.

"You're my first," I managed to squeak out. Trying to measure up was harder than I'd thought.

"I'll take care of you," he promised, and he smiled at me. "You gotta tell me if it's too much, though. We don't have to, you know."

"I want to."

Jesse leaned in and kissed my neck.

"But if you change your mind," he told me. "Here… Shhh… How do you want to do it? Do you want to lie on your stomach or…"

"No…" I responded too quickly. It was stupid. It probably wouldn't have even done any harm, but there it was, out of my mouth, anyway. Jesse looked confused before I saw him suck in a breath, realization dawning.

"Andrea," he started.

"I'd just… on my back?"

"Andrea," Jesse began again. He cocked his head to the side and looked at me again, as if making deductions to himself, putting things together. "Are you…"

The jig was up.

I rubbed my face.

"Pregnant. Yeah," I mumbled. "Three months."

I tried not to make it sound like it mattered. Like I wanted him to stay.

Because I remembered.

My eyes slipped shut as I recalled the scene. Fifteen years old. Frightened. Clinging to my boyfriend's jacket telling him that he couldn't be serious, couldn't really be walking away.

"Where will I go? I can't go home, Miguel. My mom will kill me."

He scoffed.

"Don't be over-dramatic, Andrea."

I looked at him.

"She will kick me out. Write me off. She never wanted me to end up like her."

"Well, too bad!" He told me, yanking his arm away. "Get off me. I don't know where you're getting the idea that we're… serious like that. We only slept together twice. It's probably somebody else's kid anyway."

"This baby is yours! Why are you… why are you saying this, you said…" I grabbed a-hold of him again, his collar, not letting go.

He reeled back and shoved me hard.

"Get off of me, you crazy bitch. I would have said anything to tap that. It's not my fault you thought I was serious. I don't want some kid. Get that straight. You weren't even that good, anyway." He turned and walked away, waving as I watched, jaw still open and eyes staring in disbelief.

"Andrea?" Jesse nudged me. "Andrea… Are you okay?"

"I… Yeah," I mumbled as I opened my eyes.

"You were zoning out," he whispered. Jesse stroked my back again. "You're shaking again. Hey, it's okay… This is…" He paused. "Big. And… fucking terrifying. But… we'll get through, okay? Together. I just don't know why you didn't tell me."

"I just…" I figured I had better be honest. "When I… got pregnant with Brock, the guy… didn't take it well." I blushed and looked downward. "It was… I don't know, scary."

"Yeah," Jesse whispered back. "It would be. It's got to be lonely and big and scary. But I'm not him, okay? I'm not… I'm not perfect," he let out a little humorless laugh, "far from it. But if you want me… I'm here."

"I want you," I told him. "More than anything."

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him, leaned my head against his shoulder.

"This isn't like you. You're so strong. Don't be frightened," he coaxed. How could I tell him what all of this was riling up inside? How I'd been competing with some dead girl I'd never met ever since I'd found out that she had existed?

That he'd loved her?

"I've got you," Jesse repeated, "And… and you don't have to do something you don't want to do just to try and impress me or keep me. I'm not going anywhere."

"I wanna do it," I mumbled into his shoulder. "I wanna try it."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded against him.

"Okay," he said. His voice was still coaxing, even as he slowly laid me back down on the bed on my back. "We'll be really careful, especially 'cause of…" His fingers brushed against my stomach. Something flashed across his face, something protective, and he smiled down at me. "I'm going to take care of you."

He reached over and pulled off my shirt, then my pants, before stripping down to his boxers. He lay down next to me and snuggled in, starting to kiss my lips, my neck.

"Jesse," I whispered. He ran his hand down my side and pulled my underwear down, then off.

He felt warm. Soft. Safe.

But I still couldn't shake the nervousness.

He reached for the tube and I watched as he put some of the gel on his finger, before getting on his knees in front of me. He moved his fingers to my ass and started to trace around the entrance. I sucked in a breath.

"Try and relax," he told me. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'm just…" I protested, and he pressed a kiss to my leg.

"Nervous. I know. It's okay." The finger started to slowly slide in, and I took a breath and let it out. This wasn't that bad. Kind of weird, but not bad.

Jesse was still looking at me, concern etched in his features.

"You're beautiful," he told me, and I almost burst into tears because, hell, I wished I could believe it, believe that I was as desirable, or more so, than her.

He worked his way around, and I had relaxed around the sole finger before he added a second.

It was a little harder, now, but still didn't quite hurt.

Jesse smiled.

"You're doing good. Really good," he told me. "Just try and stay relaxed."

"Have you done this a lot?" I asked him, taking another breath and feeling the pressure ease.

"Just a couple times," he told me, and I could feel the fingers spread inside me. I let out a gasp. "Shh, it's okay," he coaxed. "Does that hurt?"

I shook my head.

"Nah, it's just kinda…" I didn't have a word. Weird? Uncomfortable? Both of those?

"Take some time to get used to it." The fingers flexed. "No rush." He locked eyes with me and smiled. "We're fine. We're good, okay? Nothing to worry about. I love being with you. I love you. I know that you're… nervous, but you don't have to be. I'm not going anywhere."

I swallowed hard and nodded. We had never really talked about our relationship, not like that, and it was more than a little odd to pair those words with these new, odd sensations.

Jesse withdrew his fingers and looked at me.

"Are you really, really sure?"

I smiled at him. Even chuckled.

"Yeah. I'm sure," I whispered.

I had never been more confused in my life. What was I even trying to do? Be her? Impress him? But before I could figure it out, he had pulled off the rest of his clothes and had started to stroke his cock with lube, his brow creased like he was concentrating, really thinking about this.

I closed my eyes, trying to anticipate it. I must have been wincing or clenching or something, because the next thing I felt was Jesse's hand on my thigh and his lips against mine.

I eased up, distracted, as I kissed back, and he seemed to take that chance to start trying to push it. I let out a little cry, but I muffled it against Jesse's shoulder. I wasn't going to give in that easily, wasn't going to start whining and crying like this was my first time doing anything at all.

I wasn't fifteen again.

"Listen, you have to listen to me. Please… stop walking away just…" I was running after her, no easy feat at six months pregnant, and she wouldn't stop walking.

Finally, my mother whirled around and glared at me. I stopped too fast and nearly fell over, like a car braking too quickly.

"I have nothing to say to you, Andrea. That's what you don't understand." She was looking straight at me. "You're fifteen! You think I wanted this for you! You think that's why I work my ass off every day at this job to support you and Tomas? No! I already can't keep a goddamned hold on your brother, and now you tell me this? No. You're dead to me."

"Where am I supposed to go?"

"Go talk to your grandmother. Maybe she'll take you. But don't come ask me for anything. I have enough to deal with."

"But…" I raised my hands, pleaded.

"No. I hope it was worth it."

Had it been? Brock was worth it, that much was for sure. He was everything.

And Jesse loved Brock. Loved me, or so he said.

I relaxed. Let him sink in. Buried myself against Jesse's skin, against his scent. Listened as he whispered things, soft things, nice things.

He was warm. Warmer than he'd ever seemed. Not so distant, so frightened of something lurking in the shadows, of something hiding behind his eyes to pull him into some kind of darkness.

He thrust, and before long I felt him tense up, come and slump against me, tuck his head into my chest, like he needed protecting too.

But how could I take care of him when I couldn't take care of myself?

I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up, my whole body had some kind of mild ache, like I'd stretched every muscle just a little bit too far.

I groaned and rolled over, before jolting awake when I saw that it was already eight o 'clock.

Jesse was nowhere in sight.

Shit! Late. Late for everything!

I climbed out of bed and ran to pull my clothes on. Had he split? For good? Or just vanished into the shadows for a little while longer? No time to think about it. I had to get ready, get my shit together, get Brock to school and head to work and… I twisted my hands in my hair, starting to tie it into a ponytail.

I barely heard the light knock on the bedroom door, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I turned and saw Jesse standing there.

"Dammit," he cursed. "You weren't supposed to wake up." He paused, then added, "Yet." He put his hand on my shoulder and smiled. "Made breakfast for you guys. I hope it's okay."

I flushed and dropped my hands.

"Okay," I said. "But… uh… why?"

"'Cause you're my girlfriend?" Jesse responded. "And I really wanted some bacon?"

I grinned.

"All right. Let's go."

Life doesn't have any guarantees. And everything was probably poised to go horribly, terribly wrong. After all, I was going to have a child with my mysterious boyfriend who was probably involved in some kind of criminal enterprise and had a dead girlfriend he still probably dreamt about and wished was there in my stead.

But for that moment, things were okay. They might have even been good.

I laced my hand in his.

"Let's go."