It was one of the coldest days there, the rain was pouring down over the small cottages scattered across the grass field. The lake's usually smooth surface was disturbed by the hard raindrops. Rain interrupted the plans for the day, and most people were sitting in the window of the cottages, frowning out at the rain. She though, she had always liked the rain when it fell. It didn't happen often enough, and when it did she could run out and feel it wash over her. In California people liked heat and sun, and heat and sun, any other combination seemed wrong there.
Her room mates hadn't been so excited as she had been when they saw the drops crashing against the window that morning, because they knew that the one day they would spend outside the field of cottages was ruined. So when she asked them if they wanted to go running after dinner with her the only response she got were negative grunts.
Clad in a t-shirt and shorts, her running shoes that inconveniently weren't waterproof, and immediately started to leak water, soaking her socks. But she didn't let it stop her as she started to run towards the water, her t-shirt clinging to her body more and more.
It wouldn't be a long run, she promised herself as she spotted the shed half hidden behind a few trees. Her room mate Holly with a constant running nose warned her that she could catch a cold or worse if she stayed out in the rain too long and got cold. But never in her life had that happened to her when she had played in the rain.
As she ran dirt splashed up her leg, but she did not mind, it was a part of it all.
A few of the boats were in the water, each one of them tied to the bridge and they bounced on the small waves. Tomorrow they were going to take a few of those at camp out with those boats after practise to fish. She had would've signed up for it if she had known how to fish, and if the the thought of a fish with a hook in its mouth didn't disgust her. But it wasn't like that, so instead she was stuck on land being forced to play soccer on the wet and muddy grass. She could only imagine how the other girls at the camp would take that when they already had a delicate and very fragile relationship with sports.
The shed was red, the paint slowly peeling off and the wood underneath it was starting to reveal itself again.
Suddenly something moved inside the house, only a shadow quickly passing the small and dirty window that belonged to the house.
"Hello?" It was either a leader or a fellow camper, and she could not decide which alternative was the best. If it was a leader it would lead to questions and a towel over her shoulders as he or she would take her temperature, but if it was another camper it would force her to be nice and she might just get stuck with this person. A lot of people at this camp hung on to the first person who showed even mild interest in the other person, and she had enough of those now for her taste. "Someone there?"
"Just me," a guy peaked out of the creaking door. His hair was dark as well as his eyes. This guy looked good and he knew it, something that put her off slightly. "Come in," he said with a smile and she blushed as she looked at her feet. Rain was dropping in her mouth, and she was starting to shiver, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to share such a small space with him. "Seriously, you are soaking wet!" he said with an eye roll. It didn't matter to him if she stood out there or was inside, but now this girl was there now, her presence could not be taken away any more, he was not alone now. It took a minute or two before she took a step forward and put her hand on the door. He stepped back and let her inside the house.
There were little space for the two of them in there, there were mostly toolboxes stocked on top of each other, and various tools laying about. It was obvious this place were not meant for campers to spend there time in, but the sweet smell of smoke told them that they were not the first to stand in this house without the leaders knowing. The dark haired guy sat down, leaning against a boat while looking up at her. She was young, constantly fidgeting with her hands, trying to stop herself from crossing her arms.
"I'm Amy," she said after a while, breaking the silence that was only interrupted by the rain falling on t he roof.
"Ricky," he said with a smug smile, but she did not notice it. She sat down opposite him, and watched him closely. His shirt was almost dry, which meant he had been in here for a while. Their legs rested against each other, but there was not so much to do about other than to feel uncomfortable about it.
"So where do you... go to school?" He watched her blink slowly in embarrassment, and smiled. He liked it when he made girls blush, and put his hands on her ankle and rubbed the skin there.
"Does it matter" he said calmly, his hand rubbing in bigger circles up her leg.
"I..., " she said, biting her lip nervously as she watched his hand uncomfortably, "I guess not," she told him with a smile. He moved swiftly to sit next to her, and in the cramped space he was almost sitting on top of her.
"You are very pretty," he whispered in her ear, brushing her hair back and out of her face as she looked down in her lap. "Did you know that?"
"No," she answered him, and looked up at him. He was way too close, she thought to herself as she felt his breathe hit her cheek.
"Well now you do, Amy," he said her name like he was testing it, to hear what it sounded like on his tongue. "Amy," he said again. It scared her a bit, the way he said it, the way is hand rubbed a circle on her thigh. His name was Ricky. Ricky. Ricky. How old was he? What was his surname? Where did he live? Even; what instrument did he play? This seemed too intimate, she did not know him, but why did it feel so funny inside her when his hands rubbed higher and higher up? Outside the sound of the rain was fading as his face came close and closer to hers. She had only been kissed once, and that was a kick kiss on the lips by a boy in second grade. That did not count, it did not count this time.
His lips met hers before she could think of it further, his eyes were closed but hers were wide open. Did she want this? She did not know this guy and now she was kissing him like girls only kissed their boyfriends. What would her friends think of this? Quickly she opened her mouth to tell him to take it slow, that she didn't want to make out with a guy she just met five minutes earlier. But before she could get a sound out his tongue was in her mouth, against her own tongue. She could not feel the charm of kissing a guy like this, the wet tongues against each other. His breathe quickly became short and strangled against her cheek, his hands searched under her shirt for her bra while pushing her back against the floor.
The whole ordeal seemed messy to her. His tongue against hers, in her mouth, against her teeth. She tried to do what he did, tried to remember what she had heard of kissing, but all memories seemed distant in that moment. His tongue against hers suddenly didn't feel so weird, his nose pressed against her cheek didn't feel as awkward, and his hands against her wet skin were comfortable. A soft moan left her mouth when his hands ended up on her bare breast. It was a touch she had never felt before, somewhere between gentle and firm.
Ricky. Ricky. Ricky. That was the name of the guy who's hand was under her shirt, the name of the guy who was pressing himself against her on the small space on the floor. Her feet touched the door when his tongue left her mouth and his mouth found her neck. It wasn't cold in here, she wasn't shivering from cold anymore. She gazed up at the ceiling as he unbuttoned her shorts, the wood up there was dark and in the corner next to the door a spider looked down on them.
Ricky, his name was Ricky, pushed down her shorts bellow her knees, further down her legs and down around her ankles and grass and mud stained shoes. Left on her was only her shirt and panties. His mouth was on her again, his breathe hot against her skin, fast and short, matching hers. His hand, Ricky's hand, was under her top again, this time pushing it up against her shoulders, leaving her breasts naked in the chilly air. For only a moment did he stop and look down on her. This was weird, she felt it even then, but somehow that did not matter so much to her then.
But then he quickly pulled down his own shorts, they were brown reaching down to his knees. It was then it hit her what was going to happen, when his left hand was pulling down her pink panties, and soon the hard and rough wood was touching her skin everywhere. She watched him as he pulled down his underwear, trying to catch a glimpse of that thing she had never seen before, but it all went too quick. His hands pushing her thighs apart, his hips against her hips, his short breathe against her neck, his eyebrows furrowed against her cheek in concentration. Then with one trust forward with his hips a burning pain shot through her, and she yelped. That was all it was, pain, and then it was over.
Above her the spider was still sitting on the same place, above her he was still lying, his body heavy against her small one. He was breathing heavily, still inside her.
Ricky. Ricky took her virginity. Ricky and band camp had sex with her. She, Amy Jurgens, had sex with Ricky. Ricky who? No, this couldn't have been sex, she thought. The stories she had heard about it didn't end like this, this quick, so soon. She and Ricky could not have had sex, no, it wasn't sex, just some poor imitation of it.
Then he was standing up, pulling his underwear and shorts up. The rain was still falling as steadily as before, but something had changed since she walked in here, something big.
The way he was looking at her who basically naked on the floor made her uncomfortable. Bare barely breasts, the hairy triangle down there. No one had seen her like this before. Quickly adjusted her shirt and pulled up her panties and shorts, ignoring the sticky white thing that was on her inner thighs.
"Amy," he said one more time with his head tilted to the side. "Nice name," and this time she noticed is sarcastic smile, and something fell apart inside of her. Disappointment settled in her chest and stomach, like an ache she couldn't take away. Then he turned away and left her alone in the shed, fighting her tears.