54 - Sex
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I feel numb. Like your leg when you've sat on it for too long and cut off the blood flow, but all over. Even my chest, and head. Everywhere. Physically pained. Yet, it was completely inadequate in conveying the excruciating emotional pain gripping my heart and my mind, like shackles of thorned vines.
No one has ever gotten so close to the truth. No one but that bastard Ed.
I lifted myself out of the water, onto the lip of the bath, the smooth stones still finding a way to dig into the skin of my butt. The November air was chilling, but I welcomed it. The haze of emotion was banished, and all that was left was the cold, crystalline recollection of that terrible night.
March 28th, 2009
Indigo Plateau
Indigo Gym Onsen Hot Spring
There was a knock at my door.
I raised myself.
"Whitney, I thought you were sleeping with Morty."
"It's me."
"Edward?"
'No no no', I thought to myself. I don't want to rehash his broken heart. Please not this.
"Go away. Come back tomorrow."
I thought I had locked the door. I was wrong.
The handle turned, the door opened, and Ed stepped inside.
I rose to a sitting position.
"Ed?" I whispered.
I've never seen this boy before. This was not the overly-formal, overly-polite, overly-apologetic coworker I had known the past four years. This was a man- a grim man with unknown intent. He frightened me.
I rose to my feet. He stepped forward, closing the space between us. His eyes never left me, although they strayed up and down my figure. A shiver ran through my body, and I found myself wishing I had more than a flimsy sundress to cover me.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Be quiet," he said, low, dire, and commanding.
"Ed, it's really late. We need to sleep. Our plane leaves tomorrow morning."
His expression is telling me to shut up, but I pressed on, hoping and praying we could approach this rationally, like the adults we had recently become.
"I'm tired, and you're upset, and we need sleep if we're going to get to the airport on time. I know you want to talk about things, and we can, on the plane. But not tonight, please?"
I wasn't convincing him.
"Look, I'm sorry," I said.
"You've never once been sorry for a single thing you've done, so shut that lying mouth up," he said.
I flinched in shock.
Is this really Edward?
"What was it you said? Say it again. Say it!"
"I don't-" I stuttered.
"'I'm sorry if I misled you.' Your exact words. Lying words. You don't give a fuck about me. You don't give a fuck about anyone around you, how you screw with them, their feelings, their generosity."
"I don't know what I've done to make you this upset, but please don't take out your anger-"
"I told you to shut up!" he screamed, cutting me off. "You never listen. It's all about you, isn't it?"
"You're wrong."
"How am I wrong? Even when the whole world gives you everything you ever wanted, and yet you bitched non-stop for years about being unwanted, disrespected, hated, and criticized. 'I've got no friends', ignoring the dozen others that showed up just to cheer you on! Whined about your poverty when everyone knows your dad is a senior manager with a fat paycheck. You've even got your own personal piggy bank from your substitute Gym Leader stipend. And yet you still cry poor every time someone asks you to chip in money for a party! You still act like you can't afford to come on class trips with us!"
"No, that's-" He pounded down on the nightstand with his palm, silencing me. His diatribe wasn't nearly finished.
"Three years now, constant, constant bitching about how the world hates you. If the world was so damn stingy, how do you still have two parents and a roof over your head? Grades that could get you into any college in the region? There's not one girl in school who wouldn't defer to you, not one teacher who wouldn't praise you, not one guy who wouldn't date you! You not only have Pokémon that are strong, but they put up with your Tauros-shit training and unreasonable demands and still love you! Beret picked YOU to succeed him. YOU got the Gym Leader job. And yet, all you've done is complain about the so-called 'stress' you're under! As if you were forced to take the job. As if you hate it."
He's shaking. So am I.
"You're the most blessed girl in the whole city. And the most ungrateful."
I didn't want to speak, out of fear he would lash out at me again. Instead, I slowly took a step back. My calf hit the bedside. There was nowhere to retreat. Ed continued.
"'Misled' me? Hell no! As if there was anything in your actions that ever made me believe you had the remotest inkling of interest. I didn't care."
His voice calmed a little bit.
"What I saw when I first looked at you was a frail little girl needing help. Over time I got to know you better- the good and bad, and let's not kid ourselves, there was a lot of bad. Yet, no matter how much you complained, how annoying and hopeless your attitude got, how violent you became, how much you mistreated me, your friends, and everyone else, I took all that negativity and didn't flinch, because I liked you. I looked past your faults and found everything I wanted in a woman. I convinced myself I could be your bastion of hope, the one thing you could count on. For your sake, I would suffer anything.
I didn't need you to fall head over heels for me. I never expected you to find me attractive or laugh at my jokes. I'm not like every other shallow, self-absorbed cad who butted into your personal space asking for a date based solely on your looks. I wouldn't care if you were a pile of bones or a land whale. I never wanted to fuck you. None of that mattered to me.
The only thing I ever hoped for, the only thing, was that you would stop and consider the three years of friendship and affection I've given to you, and all the things I've sacrificed for your sake, and then give me the barest chance to prove I could love you better than any man in the world!"
He paused. His mouth gasped, dry from the long speech. He showed no signs of moving, either towards or away from me. Does he expect me to answer? I don't even know what to say. My head is a mess, trying to digest everything he's accused me of.
"I could forgive you if you gave me a single date and then decided I was worth discarding. I could even forgive you if you had turned me down because of my behavior tonight. But I know exactly why you rejected me, and knowing how unfair, sickly selfish, self-absorbed, self-pitying, self-serving your reason is, it makes me want to explode. Infuriated! That's how it makes me feel!"
"I did not lie," I said. "There was no deeper reason. I just don't feel anything for you. There's no chemistry. That's all it is."
"LIAR!"
He suddenly rushed me, so quickly and violently that, even without him touching me, I fell back onto the bed. I caught my self with my hands, managing to retain a seated position while Ed stood over me.
"Am I ugly?" he asked.
"No," I cried.
"Am I rude?"
"No."
"Do I have a bad personality? Am I mean?"
"You are right now."
"Am I a mean person?!" he demanded.
"No!" I cried. "Not usually."
"Then what is it? Am I pervert? No? How about my relationship with my Pokémon? That seems to be important to you. Scyther was and is my best friend. You can't say I don't have just as much love for my Pokémon as you do for yours. I'm not a failure, a bum, or a creep. I have done nothing to earn your disrespect. Am I wrong?"
"No, you're right," I said, not caring if I believed my own answer and only wanting to placate him.
"So there was nothing, no reason for you to turn me down. The only thing you can stand on is that flimsy excuse- that we lack "chemistry"."
I nodded.
"Because I didn't flutter your Butterfrees, is that it?"
Again, I nodded.
"And you're nothing but a human animal, slave to your feelings, letting your affection be dictated by hormones."
"That's not true," I said.
"Oh, then what is it?" he demanded.
"I'm not cut out for a relationship. I guess you could say, um, that I'm asexual. Not because I want to be, but from inside. I don't know how my brain works. Maybe it's the stress. Or the sour attitude you mentioned. I feel angry and sad all the time. I worry a lot, and having a boyfriend worries me that I'll be going through the motions, when there's no emotional drive there. None of it leads to me being able to fall in love. I don't think I'm capable of it."
"What pretty little lies," Ed said with a sneer.
"It's not lies. There's nothing in here," I said, tapping my chest. "What if I had said yes? What if we started dating, and married, but all along I never felt anything special for you, whatsoever, would you still want that kind of relationship?"
His stare bore down on me, vindictive and dire.
"It wouldn't be enough for you, would it? I know you, Ed. You're desperate for something meaningful, a deep and loving relationship with someone you can totally trust and be intimate with, something you never found in your own home. But with me being the way I am, that sort of relationship would be impossible."
"You're still lying."
"Why do you keep saying that?" I asked, on the verge of tears.
"You ask that like I don't know what happened three years ago."
*heartbeat*
My heretofore throbbing chest froze up completely. My breathing stopped.
"It wasn't bad chemistry between you and me. It wasn't anything to do with me. It's you and your irrational self-pity that's keeping you from finding happiness, with me or any other guy. Because you're still fucking crying over a guy who dumped you."
No. No no no. Don't bring that up. Don't say it.
"What was his name? I forget. Started with a vowel, right? Like E, or A, or something. Maybe that's it! You're lumping me with him because our names are similar!"
No, they're not that similar, Ed. And that's not why I spurned you. Not at all…
"It's pathetic. I hoped, honest-to-god I hoped, that you would get over yourself someday and start living again. I really, truly thought it would be today. You have the Gym Leader job, you're an adult, you're graduating high school. It's been three years. You're not tied to one dipshit you barely knew for a month."
"Please stop."
"But if you keep pissing away your life because of one childish crush gone wrong, you're going to find yourself living a very unhappy, miserable, and short life.
My mind raced.
"You're right," I said in a panic. "I don't want to be burdened by a silly thing that happened so long ago. Let's stop talking about it and forget it and go to sleep. That way we can be well-rested for tomorrow! In fact, I think I can understand where you're coming from. I guess I could learn to like you. I know, let's cancel the plane and go home on a train! It's romantic, we can stop in Ecruteak for a date, I know just the place!"
"What an incredibly arrogant liar you are," Ed said with an incredulous smirk.
"No, please, I'll do anything. Just don't remind me."
"Haha! Ah, no. It's time we talked about this. After all, it's only the entire reason you're a Gym Leader in the first place!"
I squeaked.
"Ed, if you want my body, take it. Right here. Please. Just, stop."
Ed had a good merry laugh at my offer.
"That's how far you'd go, just to shut me up? Can't handle the truth? Glorious! The Shrew of Olivine, willing to be raped just for the sake of hiding her one great shame!"
He suddenly roared in my face. I flinched. He drew back and smiled.
I was hoping someone, anyone, would hear the shouting match, burst in, and save me. No one was coming, though. It was too late at night, the inn was too big, with too few people, and we were in the most remote wing. Or worse, they did hear us, but decided not to get involved.
"The little bitch thinks she can wallow in her self-made misery for the rest of her life, all-but-asking desperately for people to care about her. But lo and behold, when one tries, they get suckered in and trapped, and it's only too late they realize the bitch is only using them."
"That's false!"
"It's because her obsession with one guy and what he did to her has become her entire identity. She's afraid that without it, she'll lose her victim status and crumble apart."
Ed suddenly dropped down, close enough I could smell his breath.
"What happened at the lighthouse, Jazz? Did he take your virginity? Was it rape? Or was it the sort of sex you like to pretend you didn't agree to after the fact?"
"Nothing happened," I said. "That's not your business."
"It's not my business?! Oh boy!" Ed leapt up. "I've only wasted three years of my life trying to be everything that boy failed to be, trying to fill the void he left in your heart, doing my damndest to be the best man I could be! Only to find out it's not enough for you, because I'm not that guy! I'd say it was my business alright! Mine, and everyone who has ever felt sorry for your bleary-eyed lying face!"
"I'm sorry!" I cried.
"No you're not! You're sorry for yourself, not for your behavior! You're sorry I'm telling you the things you need to hear, even if you don't want to hear them!"
"It's not helping when you start treading on things you don't understand!"
"What don't I understand? You had a crush, the bastard played along, and then when he was tired he dumped you and left."
"That's not it! That's not-"
Ed continued unabated.
"Then you went running home, and got told off by your mommy, who told your daddy, who told Mr. Beret, who felt sorry for you and let you have the Gym Leader position permanently. Am I- ACK!"
Ed reeled. He clutched his throat.
My fist throbbed, overcome by the pain of smashing Ed's Adam's apple.
"Shut the fuck up," I warned him in a low voice.
Ed gagged, and then managed to choke out a few words.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
I was in coils, tense as a tectonic fault line. My fingers were claws. Eyes were wide open. Sweat dripped off my forehead.
Ed cocked an eyebrow, amused by my temper. He cleared his throat and spoke up.
"So I hit it on the head there, huh? Tell me, are you more mad that he raped you and dumped you? Or that your mommy didn't care? Or is it because the one guy who would put up with your shit is now on his deathb-"
And he stopped talking, because my foot caught him by the jaw and sent him staggering backwards.
The next kick hit him in the balls, causing him to bunch over. The third landed squarely in his stomach, sending him lurching backwards towards the door. His body crumpled in the entry hall. He gasped out, not in pain but in actual injury.
It was now I, in wrath, who stood over Ed.
"You know nothing," I whispered. "Get out, before I kill you."
Ed took one last look at me, saw the fury born of three years of bitter anguish and repression, and he drew away. His hands went up in surrender. The young man literally crawled out on his hands and knees without another word.
"He never touched me," I said softly, and honestly.
Morty stared at me, stunned.
…Present Day
"I was immature, and emotional. I overreacted to something mean he said."
"Are you serious?" Morty asked wide-eyed.
"I'm not lying. We had an argument, and then he left. The things I said to you was just a childish overreaction. You know me, how I can get. It's one of my faults."
Morty's gaze was, to put it mildly, dumbfounded.
"It hurt, at the time, that you wouldn't take my side against Ed. He touched a nerve in me. I can't tell you what it was about, but I hope you trust me that it was very important, and at the same time, very hurtful to me. I needed someone who would comfort me, and validate me, and at least disparage Ed's behavior, without question. I was desperate for someone to stand by me, unconditionally. You didn't. You abandoned me."
"That's it?" Morty uttered.
I nodded.
"You left me. That's why I had hated you these last three years."
"I don't believe you. Jazz- I mean Jasmine- are you saying, honestly, on your honor, on your life, that Edward never molested you in any way?"
"Ed never lay a hand on me," I reaffirmed.
Morty flopped backwards into the water. His broad, bare back slapped the surface, creating a splash that sprinkled droplets over my face. The boy floated there for what seemed like enough time to call a lifeguard. I ventured to reach out and tickle his feet. His response was to begin talking aloud to the stars.
"I have a hard time believing this. It's nothing like I expected."
"What did you expect?"
He turned over, face first into the water. He used his arms and legs to lift himself up, letting the liquid rinse down his back, butt, and thighs and stream back into the pool.
"Here," he said. He slowly got up and waded over to the side of the bath. He picked up a towel, turned himself around, and sat on the edge. The towel went over his privates. A pat of the hand indicated I was to join him. I did so, taking a towel and covering my sensitive areas. To be honest, it still felt like I was naked sitting right next to him. His eyes were held sidelong and downwards, so that it seemed like he was staring at my barely-covered breasts. Yet, his mood and tone betrayed absolutely no perverted motive in his thoughts.
"I was sure Ed had molested you," Morty admitted.
"Why would you think that?"
"Because he is in jail."
My mouth dropped open a little. I was stunned.
"After you told me that Warren kid had your picture, I started doing research, calling in old contacts. It took a lot of favors to trace it backwards, and even then, I couldn't confirm everything until I got the chance to talk to Warren myself. You beating him was fortunate, he was pretty willing to spill the beans."
"And?" I said, not knowing if I really wanted to hear the rest.
"Warren got himself in trouble while he was hanging out in Olivine. He picked fights with trainers who didn't want to battle him. Got to the point someone called the cops and they came and arrested him, charged him with a misdemeanor. The local jail was down for maintenance, so they put him in the prison overnight. That's where he met Edward."
"Edward's in prison?"
Morty nodded.
"He raped a woman."
My gut clenched up on me.
I knew Edward for four years. It's hard, almost unbelievable, to think of someone like him committing a felony. He had far too much going for him. Never mind that- what I find really shocking is that it was simply not in Ed's character to do that. He is an asshole in so many ways, but he had a code of honor that he adhered to religiously, and assaulting a woman was an outrageous violation of that code.
I shook my head.
"I can't believe it."
"That's what I've been saying about your story. It doesn't match what I found."
"He really raped a woman?"
"It's true, I looked up the court case. He's guilty as hell. They had witnesses, DNA, bruise-marks. Blatant, undeniable sexual assault. So if he were a guy capable of doing that to a woman- and to think, he was alone with you, after suffering a rejection, in a bad mood, and inebriated- I just don't see how he could have controlled himself in that situation and left you unharmed."
I bit my lip.
"He wasn't… he wasn't like that. He wasn't concerned about my body that night."
He didn't even take me up on my offer to fuck me. I was scared and willing to do anything to avoid confronting the issue he was pressing. Except Ed had laughed it off and plowed on with his tirade.
"It was something else."
"Are you sure?" Morty pressed.
"Of course! You're not getting a different answer, no matter how many times you ask!"
"Then how do you explain everything? Your hatred of men? Your disdain towards sex? You're skittishness whenever we bring up the subject of relationships? Your depression and anger issues? If it's not because of Ed attacking you, I can't think of what else could have caused all of that!"
I calmed Morty down with a touch of the hand on his thigh.
"I told you, so many times, but you still haven't listened. It was nothing Ed did. It was nothing you did that night, as far as I'm concerned. I came to Indigo broken. I've been hurting for…" I lilted off into silence.
I was about to say six years.
But, really, let's not kid yourself, Jasmine.
It's been twenty-two.
"What?" Morty asked, urging me to go on.
"Something that happened awhile ago."
"Was it a guy?" Morty asked.
I shut my eyes.
Yes, there was a guy involved.
I shook my head, clearing the image of the boy.
Morty took that shake as a negative.
"Then what was it?"
"Nothing. Never mind."
"What? Tell me!"
"Forget about it."
Morty growled and put his hands to his temples in frustration.
"So damn close! Come on!"
"No."
Morty, please understand!
This is probably something I will never, ever tell you about.
There is an algebra equation, I forget how it goes (I'm so terrible at math!), but when graphed it basically shows the closer x approaches 1, then y becomes infinite. That's how my secret works. The closer I get to divulging everything, the worse my fear gets, to the point where it's impossible to overcome.
"Go on. Tell me the rest about Ed," I urged him.
He sighed in resignation.
"Fine, for now. Well, Warren and Ed shared a lunch break together. You came up and became a favorite topic. Warren didn't get too much into the details, but it seems he managed to coordinate with Ed to some degree after he was released. Ed had three of his Pokémon transferred to him, as well as some tactical knowledge on your battling style. Warren was supposed to use that to beat you and help others beat you, in order to make you fail your win ratio quota and get you fired. For Ed, it was purely a scheme to take revenge on you. Warren wanted revenge, but also his Gym Badge. He's young, and pretty easy to manipulate. Ed knew what he was doing and played him like a fiddle."
I nodded along.
"People change," I reminded myself.
"What's that?"
"That's not the Edward I knew. He was a good guy, in his own way. But the last time I heard from him, he seemed like he was taking a turn for the worse. He started rumors about me, saying I was into bestiality, and tried turning my friends against me." I grumbled at that last part. He succeeded; a lot of the local trainers did shun me for years afterwards. "I couldn't foresee it then, but now it's easy- how his life could develop to the point where he would do such an ugly act and end up in jail."
"You think he took your rejection to heart?" Morty asked.
"Yes," I answered. "It wasn't a little passing crush. He was nursing it for years. He probably invested too much emotion into it."
"He worked with you for how long?"
"Um, about three years, or four? Summer 2005 to March 2009."
"Almost four years," Morty noted. "Yeah. If you let a love go that long without confessing it, it'll consume you. I had no idea it was that deep, though. Had I known, I would've been way more careful that night. I wouldn't have done anything so stupid as 'Truth or Dare', that's for sure. Four years." Morty shook his head in disbelief.
"It doesn't take years and years to develop those kinds of deep-rooted feelings," I argued.
"How long would you say, then?"
"A month."
Morty clucked in disappointment.
"That's nothing. Still a crush."
"But…"
Aw shoot. Memories, memories. Better change the subject back to Ed.
"Morty, you're a guy."
"Obviously."
"Do you think Ed was always a bad person? Or did he turn into a bad person because I rejected him?"
Morty paused. He's thinking, or he doesn't want to tell me the honest answer. I nudged him.
"I think that his crush for you had an affect on his life, yeah," he answered. "I don't think it was just the rejection that tipped him over. It was the whole process, from the beginning to the end. He made an unrealistic expectation about his chances for wooing you and then built his life and emotional stability around that expectation. It wasn't your fault. Even if you had accepted his love, I think something else would have happened. A divorce, maybe."
"Nnn. I think you're right."
"I'm glad you rejected him." Morty brushed my hand, which was still laying on his leg.
"No touching," he reminded me. I pulled my hand away. "I'm glad that I got the chance to be with you again. It brought me back to happier days. When life wasn't so bleak."
"You too, huh?"
"Yep. That's our sad lot."
"I won't ask what's up with you," I stated.
"Good."
"That's not going to stop me from wondering, though. And I expect the same is true for you."
"Correct."
"Do you ever think we'll get to the point where we can share?"
"I hope so," he answered.
"When will that be?"
"When we trust each other."
"What does it mean, to trust?"
"It means when you can fart," and Morty promptly let loose a toot, "and the other person laughs instead of complains."
I let out a giggle.
"Trust means having the absolute knowledge that the other person will still love you, no matter what you do or what you say. Another name for it is… unconditional love."
"I see," I said.
"Do you?" he asked.
"Trusting someone with your heart is harder than the common kind of trust we put into our everyday relationships."
"That's true."
"It requires something special to cement it."
"You're getting at?"
"Love."
I waved my hand over his crotch area. There was a noticeable bump in the towel. I couldn't help but think of what lay underneath.
"This kind of love."
"That's what I've been trying to teach you, since the gala."
"I know that."
"Well?" he said, expectantly.
"Do you really think I'm ready to take that kind of step?" I put to him.
"Obviously not."
"Not so obviously as you may think. What were we just doing?"
Morty thought back.
"Oh I see. These sideshows aren't for the titillation, are they? They're acclimation."
"Yes."
I had purposefully strung out our physical romance over the course of many sessions, in incremental steps. It was for the sake of my shyness, so that I would gradually come to accept my sexuality and be comfortable with it. Despite many years of fantasy and self-loving, to actually engage in such an act with a real boy was still a dicey, unsettling proposition to me. Hopefully that trepidation will end soon. I have a good feeling it will.
"Are you ready?" Morty asked.
"I don't know."
"What more do you need?" I gave him a sour look. "I'm not trying to push you, I just want to be open and honest about it. Communication is the key to a good relationship."
"Then… I guess, I'm not sure," I said.
"Do you think we need to get to the point where we spill our guts out, and then you're ready for sex? Or is it the other way around?"
I shrugged.
Morty went on. "I've made too many mistakes because I made assumptions. So let's be clear, and I'll be as up front as possible. What do you want to know?"
I inhaled.
That's a really open-ended question.
"Two things," I said.
"Okay."
"Why did you abandon me when I came to you for help with Ed that night?"
Morty closed his eyes. He's having to remember it first.
"I put my loyalty to my gender above my respect for you."
Morty got up, stood firm beside the pool, and then kneeled down. All the way down. He was bowing to me. His face was mashed against the ground.
"For that, I am truly ashamed. I am at your mercy. There is no way I can excuse myself. I told you absolutely everything about that night, to the best of my memory, honestly. Please forgive me."
"I forgive you," I said.
"You do?"
He looked up.
"I've done some terrible and inexcusable things to men, just because they were men. Including Ed. And you. Forgive me of that, and I will forgive you for this."
"You don't even need to ask for forgiveness. If there was something else in your past, if another guy hurt you, you have every right to judge us all."
"No, that's wrong of me. But let's not talk about it."
"Okay. And the other question?"
"Who was Katrina?"
…
He walked away.
"Morty?"
That was extremely awkward.
"Morty?!" I followed him to the men's dressing room. He disappeared inside for a minute, reemerged in boxers, and still without a word strode off. His gait was long and powerful; I was forced to run to keep up.
We ended up on a patio before a door. This was apparently the inn room Morty had rented to spend the night in. He unlocked the door with an old-fashioned key and stepped inside. It was a luxury suite, with a lounge, kitchen, and two bedrooms. He made his way to one of the bedroom doors and opened it. He did not enter.
"What is it?"
The man stood tall in front of the open entrance. A king-sized bed beckoned within.
"If you want to know the answer to your question, have sex with me," Morty said.
I held my hands over my eyes
This is it.
I shook my head.
"No. No."
"No?"
"No," I repeated.
"Then be content with your ignorance, and I will be happy with what we have so far." Morty shut the bedroom door without entering. He leaned on the wood, facing towards me.
"That's that?" I asked.
"We've reached the point, Jasmine, where we do or don't. Sex means trust. Trust means no secrets. It's that simple."
"I… you're making me feel like if I don't fuck you, it means I don't trust you."
"I'm sorry if that's how you want to think about it. I wish you didn't think of it that way. I want you to know that I am here for you. I can tell you about the stars, about a thousand different Pokémon, about the top ten most embarrassing moments in my life. I will tell you all the dirty secrets of the two dozen women I've slept with, and honestly, my own dirty secrets as well."
He stood forward until he could hold me at arm's length.
"But, I cannot tell you what that name means to me."
"Why?"
"Because… if you knew the truth, and decided you were disgusted by it… you could break me. Body, soul, and spirit. The only way I could even begin to trust you, is if you showed me yourself at your most vulnerable. If your virginity is your last, most sacred bastion, that's what I want from you."
I backed away.
"Not like this. Not now."
"…I thought so."
Morty sighed, a deep exhalation of sadness.
He deposited himself into the beckoning couch.
"Wine?" he offered. I declined. He poured a glass for himself and slowly sipped it away.
"It's not that important," I said.
"What's not?"
"Our secrets."
"So…?"
"Our feelings are more important," I decided. "I'm not ready. Not yet."
"Take your time," Morty said.
I closed my eyes and recited the date to myself.
December 11th. December 11th. December 11th. December 11th.
The day after probation ends. When my life gets back on track.
I feel that, by affixing that date to that purpose, that I will force myself to be mentally ready to have sex by then. It's creating within my psyche an expectation, and I am the kind of woman who will not turn back on her word. I will do what is expected of me, even if it means doing something as frightening as [REDACTED].
Wow.
He's right here.
The thought of that future day has my heart skipping.
This feeling is arousal, I realized.
Enjoy it. This is a good feeling. It is both natural and positive. It is not shameful. This is why you would consider doing such a strange and foreign feat as copulating with a male, despite all of your fears.
But fight it. Wait a little longer.
"Morty?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you know why you succeeded, even though Ed failed?"
"Hmm? No, I don't. Tell me."
I giggled in answer. That perplexed him. He gawked, made funny faces, stuttered, and finally gave up.
I decided to indulge him.
"Because you were there, all along."
"Wah?"
That's all I said, because it would be too annoying to tell him the full meaning.
He was there when I was young, and naïve: two years of middle school.
He was there when I was still trying to form my identity: sporadic appearances during high school.
He was there during my moment of crisis: the night in Indigo.
He was there in the depths of my misery: at the Gym Leader summit.
He was there when I was ready to take one last leap of faith: the lighthouse, and ever since.
But most importantly- he was NOT there during the worst day of my life.
And that means he has no attachment to the worst memory of my life.
He is free of that terrible taint. When I'm around him, I don't have to recall the cruel reality that underlies my existence. When I'm yelling at him for his crude sexual innuendo, it's so much less worrisome than the existential danger I live with constantly.
So long as Morty promises to stay by my side and love me, I have no fears.
I smile at him, and he drops his jaw at weird angles because he doesn't know what to make of my smile. He'll never know my secrets, and he'll never know how much he means to me- and I'm okay with that.
My eyes drifted to the clock.
"I ought to go," I said.
"Your train?"
"Yes. That's why we can't have sex now. I would miss my ride home."
"Oh shucks, that sucks," Morty said sarcastically.
"Hey Morty."
"Hmm?"
I leaned down and gave him a kiss. It was good, and pleasing, so much so that I got tired leaning down and fell into his lap. He managed to hold me up by the chest, which incidentally caused him to [REDACTED].
"Sorry."
"It's okay." [CENSORED] Jasmine allows Morty to play with her breast for a moment. [/CENSORED]
"Okay, that's enough," Morty exclaimed, drawing back his hand suddenly. It was my turn to whine. "I'm not going to let this evolve and make you go back on your word," he explained. I huffed, and then resigned myself. We both stood.
"Where are your clothes?"
"Back in the changing room."
"Here, have my t-shirt." He threw me a plain white t-shirt. "Use that until you get dressed."
"Thanks."
As one last favor, I REDACTED].
"That's a sight I could get used to."
"Mmm, it's not as good as the one I get," I said, eying his bare chest. "Turn sideways." He complied. I squirmed in delight. I don't know about other girls, but I love shoulders and backs. Something about the shape, I guess. Morty is so very scrumcious in that regard. I dreamed of draping myself over that back, massaging it or hugging it tight.
The t-shirt went over my head. It was large enough to come down below my hips, hiding everything taboo.
"A farewell kiss?" he inquired.
"Of course."
The farewell kiss lasted for three minutes and was more of a tongue-on-tongue massage session. I finished by slurping his upper lip, scooping it out like clam meat. Ahhhhh…
I was about to go, but Morty stopped me one last time.
"Hey Jazz."
"Hmm?"
"Do you still hate men?"
I paused for thought.
"Not anymore. I think I can bring myself to just hate particular men, the ones who have wronged me. Not all men. Not you."
"That's good. So, does that mean you like me?"
"Yes. I might even go so far as to say I love you."
"Haaaaa."
"Morty-"
"Hmm?"
"Do you love me too?"
Morty blinked, staring placidly. He bent down to one knee and took my hands in his.
"Jazz- I-" He breathed deeply. "If there's anything in the world I can do to make you happy, just ask. I am at your beck and call. I want you to enjoy life. I want you to live. I want you."
"Right," I said, nodding and holding back tears.
It was impossible to hold back my feminine gushing any longer, so I rushed away. The last I saw of Morty was a glimpse of him in the doorway of the hotel suite.
The lust-driven procrastination had not cost me too much time. I still had time to collect my things, dress, and walk to the train station at a leisurely pace. Ecruteak passed me by. Familiar landmarks peeped out in between the development of new constructions. The night was starting to cloud over. It would be darker, but the street lamps gave me ample lighting to find my way.
I thought about taking my Pokémon out, perhaps even Steelix, to transport me to the station, then decided against it. I wanted to be alone for this walk, in order to think.
Morty, oh Morty.
Mortimer Matsuba.
My first memory of him was receiving a wet-willie down my ear.
My second was wrestling with him, trying to get back my Pokeball with which he had just caught Haunter. We were covered in dust, on account of the collapsed gymnasium behind us. Students and teachers were rushing around in a panic, and all I could think about was how much of a creep this one guy was.
Middle school passed by so slowly. It was not the happiest time of my life, not by a long-shot, but it was leaps and bounds better than what my life would become. It was certainly an interesting, and exciting period, thanks to the miscreant who continually found new and interesting ways to pick on me.
For a guy who bullied me all the time, I sure seemed to hang out with him and his friends a lot. It didn't make sense, and I swore there must be something wrong with my head for having tolerated him so much. Then I remembered that Whitney was our mutual friend. She went out of her way to find ways to bring us together.
Hah. Whitney was probably trying to ship us all along. What an eccentric, lovable friend.
Morty and I shared meals. I got spit-balled in the face, he got a stomp on the foot. It was our way of saying "What's up?".
P.E. was our chance to show the other who was better. Things really fired up when they allowed Pokémon in our sporting games. Boys versus girls matches basically devolved into Haunter versus Onix.
There was the graduation ball- Morty did ask me out to that. It was in such a dirty, off-handed manner that I completely ignored him. He ended up going with… Cecilia? was her name? instead. They didn't have much fun. I spent the dance pouting, because of some stupid thing involving the guest speakers. They had promised me Steven Stone would be there, but that was a lie, I guess. Morty cheered me up on the way home by showing me an ordinary rock. He cracked it open on an iron fence pike, and inside was an iridescent array of aqua-blue geodes. He told me it was from a small quarry Stone himself had excavated in the nearby mountains (I never found out if that was true).
During graduation, we rushed the stage and all performed that stupid dance-song, while the teachers stood aghast. Basically, it was Morty's idea and I organized it. My homeroom teacher Mrs. Leyton was shell-shocked because she spotted me leading the charge. Until that very moment, the faculty never suspected me of being a trouble-maker. Oh little did they know. I guess, in a kind of combative game of one-upmanship, me and Morty dictated all the underground dealings of the school.
He was also the only one who figured out that I acted the way I did because I was secretly trying to get myself expelled. I didn't want to be in Ecruteak. I wanted back home. In my own house. Close to the sea, to feel the salt water lapping around my feet. And most of all, I missed the overgrown lamb and his funny antics and lovable personality. I wanted to cuddle with him again. Morty knew, and yet he also knew what would happen to me at home if I ever ran afoul of the system. So he covered for me, and took all the blame, attention, and, to my chagrin, all the credit for the outlandish misdeeds that wracked Ecruteak North.
How could I be so stupid to not see it then?
He loved me.
He loved me, at a point when I was still able to fall in love with men normally.
I don't know what would have happened if I had realized it.
There's a good chance I would have rejected him anyways.
There's also the matter of my town of residence being dictated by my dad's job. Of course I was happy to move back to Olivine, but that also meant splitting up with the friends I had made in Ecruteak. Any relationship we might have started would not have been able to develop. They let fourteen year olds travel across the region for their Pokémon journey, but that was only during the summer, when school is out. Once autumn began, we would be stuck in our own cities, miles apart.
I sighed.
If I had fallen for Morty then- do you think I could have also had my first heartbreak when we separated? Then I would know the pain of a breakup beforehand. Then I would not have reacted to that bastard in the same way, I think. And none of the terrible crap would have happened, because I would be wise enough to handle it better.
If only.
If only…
But that's not how life turned out.
You're supposed to accept what is what isn't, Jasmine.
That doesn't mean I'm not bitterly disappointed with my childhood. Reality may be realistic, but that's not shorthand for acceptance. I still, to this day, regret everything that happened.
At least, at the very least, I was given a way forward, to move on and enjoy life once again. I can go back to those middle school years, much wiser now, and able to create happiness out of the chaos.
Yes. That's what I'll do.
Morty is the center of this change.
Now that I know the purpose of his antics, I can tolerate them better.
He has also gotten a little more mature and considerate in his actions too, so that's good.
Look at everything he's done since we met again at the gala: saved me from my stupidity. Helped me with my career. Brought happiness to my Pokémon. Cheered me up with parties organized just for me. Pleasured me, taught me that I don't have to be ashamed of the urges in my body.
Now that I've come to terms with my sexuality, and decided which half of the prudish/perverted divide to embrace (the perverts), I can take Morty's sexual idiosyncrasies and enjoy them, rather than become confused and disgusted by them.
He is someone who can stand my personality, and indeed, seems to thrive off of it. He won't abandon me.
He will be my happiness.
He wants me.
Oh my God, he wants me!
How can one little word mean so much, like a treasure to my ears? A siren's call, that one word. I think he meant to say he 'loves' me, but he has trouble spitting out the "L"-word. Yet, he doesn't understand that his substitute struck a chord so much deeper than the word "Love", a word bandied about so much by so many it's become meaningless.
He wants me, and he wants to make me happy.
What can I do to ensure that continues?
No, that's being too selfish.
What can I do to make Morty happy?
Hmm.
Hmmmmmm. That's tough.
It's not that I don't care about others. I simply don't know how to care about others. I'm slow on figuring out what to do, what's appropriate when I'm put into a situation where someone is in need. I have trouble figuring out what I can do to help others. For Pokémon, their needs are simple and easily executed. For people, it's so much harder, and more time contingent, and often the moment to be a hero has passed by the time I figure it out.
For a boyfriend, though? How do I become a good girlfriend?
Jasmine, don't worry too much about it. I think Morty is the kind of guy who has the patience to let you figure it out. As long as you show that you're trying, he'll appreciate it.
Yet there is one thing he wants, that I know about and can give-
-Sex.
It's as simple as physical pleasure, driven by lust, which is a natural instinct. Men feel this urge quite strongly and regularly, I am made to understand. They also have less inhibitions in pursuing it. Denying Morty the chance to copulate is probably my most annoying trait as a girlfriend. I can't imagine the frustration he must be going through, the loads of sperm he must be ejaculating in nightly sessions of masturbation. It's enough for me to pity the man.
So why then must he wait?
Because I am reticent.
Why are you reticent?
It's in my nature, and my upbringing.
I was taught, in a very vigorous and commanding manner, to avoid sex at all costs. From my father: pre-marital sex would damn me to Hell. From my mother: sex would bring the condemnation of society down upon my head. All the adults persistently lectured me about the dangers of sex, and sought to conceal its advantages. Well, now that I have discovered they are all wrong, there's precious little by way of social pressure to stop me from partaking.
What is left is a primordial fear, instilled deep inside my female genes, to prevent me from mating haphazardly. Even that should be taken care of by modern advances. Alcohol is for decreasing inhibitions. Morty must have condoms, to prevent STD's.
Oh…
Yes, that's the root of it all. And it's a baseless fear, isn't it?
Then… there's nothing left.
The only reason I've waited so long is to make sure Morty is the right guy to take my virginity.
Yes. He is the right man.
Then what now?
I wait. The 11th of December is right around the corner. Nineteen days. That's all. So little time.
Why must you wait until then?
Because if I have sex, and like it, then I'll want more, and it will become a distraction. If I have sex and hate it, it will create emotional turmoil that will become a distraction. Either way, it can only end up impeding the thing that really ought to be the most important priority in my life- money! Money makes everything go round. Money pays for food and water, electricity for heat, light, computers, and appliances, the apartment you inhabit, the food and medicine for your Pokémon, so on and so forth. There's no way to carry on a relationship, much less a sexual liaison, without the money to facilitate one's existence.
I need to make sure I pass probation.
But… is it that big an imposition?
I mean, my ratio is far above normal. Despite Warren's best efforts and Mother's interruption, I managed a really stellar record the past two weeks. I relaxed the requirement that trainers had to beat two of my subordinates, which meant I was facing more weak trainers, giving me easy wins. Also, I played more matches throughout the day, especially in the morning, which put sleep-deprived challengers at a disadvantage. This cumulated in a record that would safely stay above 50% if I forfeited half of all my matches from now through the 10th.
So, if that's the only real thing on my probation docket, and it's not so dire anymore, why can't I slack off for a little play time? It doesn't seem like a few vacation days to Ecruteak would be an imposition.
Besides, when Morty [REDACTED] you cringed- in a good way. You're going to go home and schlick to the memory of that millisecond of pleasure. Multiple times.
If you don't have sex, you're probably going to be bothered and horny for the next three weeks, and that might make it difficult to focus on your job.
I stopped on the train platform. My train was on time and ready to be boarded. A few travelers were pushing past me, on their way to get on or getting off.
"What do I really want?" I asked myself.
I want to be loved.
That's all I have ever wanted.
Now I have that chance.
"Morty…"
Katrina.
The darkness within.
The void in his soul.
I don't care. He might tell me, he might not. I might not want to know anyways. It might not matter.
I don't know if sexual intimacy will give me the trust and courage to speak about myself, honestly, truthfully, and openly. It is certain, however, that if I cannot open my body up to Morty, I will never be able to open up my soul.
That's it.
It's decided.
I'm ready.
Ecruteak flashed by. I was running, sprinting. I didn't care what others thought of me, or that I might be too out of breath to actually commit the act. I knew what I wanted, and the idea caught fire in my mind that I should have it now.
The inn came into sight. Steam drifted above the onsen baths. I spotted the wing that Morty's room was in. Across the lawn I went, overcome and excited. I lost my sandals in the process.
There's the door.
Wait!
There was one last thing.
I gulped. And then panted, because I had run a mile and a half.
I took my time to catch my breath. I didn't want to be out of sorts when I entered. It also gave me time to ponder my last, final objection.
Would that…
Could that?...
But it should be moot, right?
Morty is a sexually active and responsible young man, right? He'll have protection…
Right?
I prayed, and then made to knock.
My fist paused. An evil grin came to my lips.
What if I jumped him?
He'll never see it coming.
So I checked the door knob. It was unlocked. I quietly turned it open, and cursed when the door made a slight squeaking noise. I looked around.
No sign of human life. Morty must be in the bedroom.
My gut began fluttering.
[CENSORED] Jasmine's body becomes excited. [/CENSORED]
Tip-toe across the lounge. Here's the bedroom door, closed.
I turned the knob, and slid it open. This one made no noise.
Morty, it's time.
I want you to-
…
"Oh. Ohhh. Oh. Oh. Oh."
[CENSORED] Jasmine finds Morty on the bed, having sex with an unknown woman- lithe, tanned, and having pink flowers in her hair. The way in which they are having sex makes Jasmine think they belong together. [/CENSORED]
Damn it.
Damn it all.
I snapped.
Or broke.
Or imploded.
The verb doesn't matter.
The superlative doesn't matter.
It happened.
My knees gave out. I dropped to the floor, and then, before they could see me, crawled behind the doorway. The sounds of their love-making reached me.
[REDACTED].
[CENSORED] In her anguish, Jasmine masturbates. [/CENSORED]
…
Twenty-two years ago, on this day, I was born.
I have never cried harder.
Part 3 - End
