Once the cramps start to hit me, I lay down in my bed, dressed in pajamas. Pajamas, I know, that'll do nothing to deter Christian's want. If he wants me, he'll have me, regardless of if I'm having cramps or if I'm wearing fluffy bunny pajamas.
My mother cuts the evening short and apologizes to Christian, who says it's fine and that he hopes I feel better.
I bet you do, I think blindly as another cramp rampages through my lower regions, making me curl into a ball tighter. My uterus pulses and flutters and twists as I whimper in pain.
My bedroom door, blessedly, remains closed, and I fall into the memories of the past.
After that first run-in, things change. Suddenly. It makes me dizzy and curious when he whispers about how pretty I've gotten, how he bets all the boys have asked me out, how he can't believe I haven't kissed anyone before.
"You really haven't kissed anyone?" he says in surprise when I shyly admit I haven't. I'm eleven now, wearing jean shorts and a simple tank-top with a purple sports bra, and I can feel how his eyes linger all over me. Like I'm naked next to him, like I'm not reasonably dressed for Georgia's humid heat. There's sweat all over me; in my armpits, wetting my tank top across my back, running in thin streams down my face.
We're sitting on my bed, and he's helping me with my history homework. I don't know anything about Greece, and the heat is making it hard to concentrate.
He touches the strap of my shirt, playing with it; his skin on mine is warm and slightly rough. My heart begins to thunder in my chest.
"Would you like to?" His breath is hot and soft and wet against my cheek as he asks me this.
I don't reply. I don't nod. Do I want him to kiss me? He's so much older than me, but he's an adult. And boys my age are gross. But I don't know if I want to kiss him.
"You don't have to be shy, Anastasia. Not with me." He gives me a charming smile.
I don't like how he calls me by my full name. It sounds so old-fashioned falling from his lips.
He turns my head towards him and looks at me, pupils blown so wide I can't see the gray of his eyes, and kisses me. His mouth is warm and wet and soft, and I don't know what to do. My body locks up. He groans. I hate the sound. His hands wrap around my waist, pulling me closer, as he deepens the kiss. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, how to react. Quickly, he pulls away and stares at me with dark, burning eyes that remind me of a predator.
"This is our secret, Anastasia. You're my special girl." He rubs my shoulder, his hand beneath the strap of my shirt, as we return to my history homework.
I don't think I want his help anymore.
I bury my head beneath my covers to hide from memories and hide away from the world. For tonight, I'm safe but it's only a matter of time before the monster finds me again.