In case you were wondering, She's Too Young inspired this fanfic.
I sat at the table next to Justin and across from Manny. She seemed really nice, and I she was trying hard to make me feel welcome. It was working because I had almost forgotten what had happened earlier. But then I remembered, and a sickening feeling settled in my stomach.
"Who are your parent's, Breanna?"
"Emma Nelson and Craig Manning," I told her.
Her face lit up. "Oh my God, Breanna? I knew you when you were just a little girl! You've grown up so much…wow. I bet you don't remember me much, do you?"
"A little," I lied.
The phone rang then. "That's my husband, he's out of town. You guys can go upstairs and make yourselves at home," she said, leaving the table.
"This always happens," Justin said, taking my hand. He led me upstairs to his bedroom. I remembered being there the night of the party.
"Your dads out of town a lot?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"So is mine. He didn't even come into my life until I was five or something. I don't remember much. But your mom seems really nice."
"Yeah, she's been through a lot."
I nodded.
"But I don't want to talk about it," he said, moving closer.
"Yeah," I said. I felt so miserable; it wasn't funny. I tried to smile, but I couldn't. I covered it up by kissing him. Making out gave us something to do instead of talking. When things started to speed up, I kept having flashbacks of Kyle and I felt his hands on me. "Stop," I said, sitting up.
Justin sat up, his shirt was off and his pants were unbuttoned.
"I'm sorry," I said. I wiped a tear from my eyes, but more formed in its place.
"It's okay," he said, putting his hand on my shoulder.
I pulled away from him.
"Breanna, it's okay…I told you, I'm not in this for sex."
"It isn't that, I've just had a rough day, that's all," I said. I bit my lip to keep it from quivering.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
I shook my head 'no'. "I think I should go home," I told him.
"Breanna, wait…what's going on? Did something happen?"
"Kind of."
"Tell me, please?"
"It's not important."
"It is to me."
"Justin, please." I looked at him, my eyes were pleading him to drop it and let me go home.
"Okay," he said, letting me walk past him.
I jogged home, trying not to cry. I opened the door to my house and shut it, leaning against it, as if some stalker was chasing me. I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down.
"Honey, are you okay?" I heard my mom asked.
I looked up. I hadn't known she was there. "I'm fine," I said. I ran up the stairs and shut my door.
I heard Mom following me. "Breanna, what is going on?"
"Nothing is going on!" I shouted.
"Something is. You don't act like this, this isn't who you are."
"How would you know who I am?" I asked. I paced my room.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
"Baby, talk to me!"
"I'm not your little girl anymore, Mom! Don't you see that I'm growing up?" I exclaimed.
"I see that, Breanna. Do you think I'm blind?" she grabbed my arm. "What is going on?"
"I'm just not feeling well, okay?"
"Why aren't you feeling well?"
"I don't know, am I a doctor?"
She looked at me for a minute. "Are you having sex?"
"Where did that come from?" I asked.
"The way you dress, the way you act."
"So my clothes make me a slut, is that what you're saying?"
"Breanna, of course not! Just answer the question. If you're having sex, you need to be on birth control."
I'm already on birth control, I though to myself. "Can we not talk about this?"
"So you are having sex?"
"Mom, please!"
"Breanna, sex is a very powerful thing. A lot of women can't just do it without getting emotionally attached and that's where girls get hurt."
"Well, I've been careful if that's what you're worried about."
I was expecting her to freak out, to call me names and say I wasn't her daughter, say she didn't know what I was turning into. But she didn't. Instead she said, "We'll talk about this tomorrow, when your father gets home." That was worse.