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2005

Forks Four released a new album. So, naturally, I blow all my savings buying it. I immediately put the CD into my stereo the moment I get home and throw myself across my bed. Head sufficiently cushioned by pillows, I examine the CD case – and all the new band pictures – as the first song loads.

The plastic slips from my fingers as the song begins, sending the CD case ricocheting off my face and onto the bed beside my head. My mouth falls open in alarm as the music flows over me, filling my head with fuzziness and my belly with warmth.

The song is by far the most pop-sounding song the band has released. Yet it is instantly my favorite. It's the … lyrics that get me. And the way they're delivered. I'm hypnotized as Edward practically growls the words, voice doing things to my body that I've never felt before.

If you want it to be good, girl,

Get yourself a …

Bad boy!

My chest heaves as the chorus continues.

If you really want it good, girl,

Get yourself a …

Bad boy!

Something about how he growls through the chorus has me squirming on my bed; eyes clenched shut against the heat that suddenly flares up everywhere. What the heck is wrong with me?

I'm breathless by the time the song is over, and I nearly trip over my own feet as I scramble across the room to skip the CD back to that song. CD sleeve clenched in my fist, I practically drool over the shot of a shirtless Edward that sits right next to the lyrics of this song.

My eyes close as the song slows, dipping into the most enthralling part. My lip disappears between my teeth as I imagine Edward standing in front of me, shirtless and snarling as he murmurs the next lyrics right to me.

These are things … your mama shouldn't know.

My thighs clench together as imaginary Edward takes a step forward and trails his hand down my arm. Goosebumps form on my real-life arm as my chest heaves.

These are things … I really wanna show.

Heat blooms in my lower belly as imaginary Edward's hand stops at my wrist. His eyes look me over slowly before he snarls out the next lines.

These are things … I wanna show you how!

So, won't you let me show you right now? Ooh, baby!

My real-life body jerks as imaginary Edward finishes his line and twists his hand around mine, lacing our fingers together tightly. Warmth spreads through my lower belly as I squirm and sigh through the ebbing embers that roll through me and then abruptly die.

What the heck was that?

Sitting up, I palm my wild hair away from my face and glance down at my crotch. Forehead wrinkled in confusion, I tug the damp fabric of my sleep shorts away from my skin in disgust. Did I just pee myself? That's fricking disgusting!

Scowling in shame, I dash into my bathroom and strip off my shorts and underwear quickly. The fluid that comes away on the toilet paper when I wipe is thick and clear – not exactly the consistency of pee.

Frowning, I flush the evidence and change into a fresh pair of shorts and panties. That was the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me. One minute, I was listening to Forks Four's new song, the next I was writhing on my mattress and peeing my pants.

What the heck is happening to me? Yesterday, I had a zit on my nose that was the size of Mt. Vesuvius. Today, I peed myself. If this is what being a teenager is like, I don't want any part of it.

…

Lyrics from "If You Want It To Be Good Girl" by Backstreet Boys.