"Boys," my mom said slowly, "go to your rooms."
"Why?" Brad asked. "I'm still eating. And it's Suze who's been sleeping around, not me." I actually doubted that, considering how the girls at my school seem to fawn over him. Why, I don't know. Perhaps it's a massive outbreak of blindness.
"Bradley, do as she says," Andy. Jake and David were already slinking up the stairs, shooting back curious looks to me and my mom. Brad followed them, grumbling and swearing under his breath.
When they were gone, my mom spoke again. "Susannah, would you like to say that again?"
I would like to say that I proudly and defiantly defended Jesse, and that I had no fear of my mother whatsoever.
But actually, I was scared shitless.
Still, though, I opened my mouth and, as calmly as I could, stated what I had just said—in politer terms, though. "You don't know what Jesse is really like. You can't make those generalizations that all guys hit girls, and all guys are just after the sex. Because it's not true."
"Not that. The part about how Jesse didn't steal your virginity." God, what was with the stealing business? Even if I was still a virgin when Jesse and I slept together, I'd have given it to him. Gladly. Because he is amazing and I totally want to jump his bones whenever I see him.
"I'm the community bicycle, Mom," I said sarcastically. Oh, I was still terrified. But I was figuring, I already wasn't allowed out of the house. I couldn't see Jesse, or speak to him, and my computer had gotten fried by Nicole. What else could she take away that I really cared about? "Everyone's had a ride." She glared at me.
"Susannah," she said firmly, with acid in her voice. I sighed.
"Why are you bothering asking? You probably have figured it all out. Yeah, I slept with Paul. And then he dumped me and smacked me around a bit. But this was, like, more than a year ago. Totally old news." Andy looked shocked and upset, and my mom's face was slowing matching her shirt—that is, turning a lovely mauve color.
"Go… to… your… room," she said, her whole body swelling up with anger. I was shocked.
"Why? Because I let my ex-boyfriend beat me up? Most mothers would be upset when they find out their daughters were a victim of a real abusive relationship, and not that bullshit you think I have with Jesse."
Andy actually looked a little frightened. My mother was livid.
"You can't talk to me that way!" she practically screamed, her eyes popping out.
"Helen," Andy murmured, "calm down…"
However, she ignored him and continued. "Go to your room!" I laughed humorlessly.
"You're punishing me because I was in an abusive relationship. God, Mom, why the hell do you have to make it so difficult for me to be happy? You're taking away the only person who has made me truly happy since Paul hurt me. I should just leave. Anywhere would be better than here. At least then I can actually talk to the only person who really seems to loves me."
Suddenly, her fingers closed around my upper arm. Then I was being dragged up the stairs.
"Mom, what the hell are you doing?" I asked, trying to pry myself from her grasp. But soon, we were at the door to my room, which she flung open and pushed me inside.
And then she slammed the door. A moment later, I heard a click, and realized she had locked my bedroom door from the outside.
Cinderella, much?
I was angry beyond belief that she had locked me in my room. I was eighteen years old! And here I was, locked in my room for falling for a guy who seduced me and tricked me and then threw me away.
I pounded on the door for a minute, screaming at her to unlock the door. But I heard nothing in return.
I had said that I wanted to leave. But at the time, it was an empty threat.
But this was the last straw.
I emptied out my book bag, and started shoving clothes in—jeans, some tee-shirts, and the essential socks, underwear, and bras. And all the cash I had in my room—about $50. I wasn't going away permanently—if I was, I would be packing a much bigger bag.
But I wanted to be prepared to last however long I needed to chill out and just be away from my psychotic mom.
I threw on a sweatshirt—my jacket was downstairs—grabbed my backpack, and slowly and quietly opened the window, climbed out onto the roof, and climbed down as much as the tree as I could.
And then I jumped.
I hurried as softly as I could down the driveway, and then once I was a good distance away, I slowed down to a walk again. Suddenly, I realized what I was doing, and anxiety set in.
I was running away from home.
I realize my circumstances were a bit different than the normal teen-runaway situations that plague daytime made-for-TV-movies. I had no intention of become a stripper. I mean, I had a place I was going to go. All I needed was a bus ticket.
And I highly doubt he would turn me back to the streets.
So it wasn't like I was planning to go sleep on a park bench or under a overpass on the highway or anything. I wasn't really putting myself in danger.
After about a twenty minute walk, I arrived at the bus stop. There wasn't a local bus terminal, but I saw upon checking the schedule, a bus should arrive in about fifteen minutes and take me there, which is when I could take a bus to Jesse's city… then catch another bus to his campus.
So I sat on the bench and waited. It was only about quarter of nine, but it was already dark out. I shivered, and pulled my sweatshirt around me tighter. It isn't usually freezing in Carmel in December, not like it was in New York, but it still got really cold after dark.
Only a minute late, a bus pulled up. I hurried on, into the warmth. I paid my fare, and then started looking for a seat.
There were a few late commuters, reading newspapers or talking quietly on their cell phones or fiddling with their Blackberries. No one paid me any attention.
So I sat in the middle, in a seat next to the window. The bus pulled away, and when we crossed the Carmel-by-the-Sea border, I took a deep breath and let it out.
We arrived at the bus terminal in twenty minutes. The next bus to Jesse's city was in forty-five minutes, so I found an Au Bon Pain and got a chocolate filled croissant. All the running away made me hungry, and they just looked so good.
An hour after I boarded the bus, I arrived. The bus terminal actually wasn't that far from the campus—even I recognized some things—so I just walked. It was about 11:30 when I found myself at the entrance of Jesse's apartment building. Someone who lived there was leaving, and he held the door open for me and let me in. Not the brightest kid, but whatever. Maybe he knew Jesse and recognized me and knew I wasn't a psycho ax-murderer or anything.
I found the elevator, and hit the six. The doors closed, and it started bringing me up. When I got to his door, I knocked carefully. A second later, the door opened, and Jesse stood there. He had a pair of reading glasses on, and when he saw me, he gaped.
"Susannah? What… what…" he began, but I threw my arms around him and buried my head in his chest.
"I missed you so much," I said, inhaling the scent of his skin. He hugged be back, but it was obvious he was confused beyond belief.
"Come inside," he said. He took my hand, and pulled me through the threshold and shut the door behind him. I took off my backpack and put it on the floor, and took off the sweatshirt.
I saw that Jesse had probably been studying. The desk chair was pulled out, and there were text books and notebooks spread out across the surface. He had finals that week, I was pretty sure, and I felt guilty for interrupting him.
Jesse sat me down on the couch, and sat down next to me. "Susannah, you know I'm delighted to see you… but what are you doing here? Why aren't you at home, in bed? Don't you have school tomorrow?" I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on his shoulder.
"I can't deal with my mom anymore, Jesse." He shook his head. He looked angry.
"Susannah, how could you put yourself in danger like that? You're too smart to leave without telling anyone, and traveling alone at night. Thank God you got here all right… I'll drive you home. Just let me get my keys. I can't let you—"
"No, Jesse," I burst out, holding him tighter to keep him from standing up. "Don't make me leave. She'll just lock me in my room again."
"What?" he asked incredulously, his anger was gone. "Lock you in your room?" I nodded sadly.
"She found out about Paul, so she locked me in my room. From the outside." He swore in Spanish. "Let me stay. Just a few days. I promise I won't distract you at all from studying." He shook his head.
"Querida, your mere presence is distracting enough." I sort of hoped that meant, "Whenever you're around, all I want to do is ravage you because you are the most beautiful woman I've ever known." So I decided to test my theory.
"Will you let me stay?" I asked, rubbing one hand up and down his stomach and chest. "I've just missed you… so much…" I said, leaning over and kissing around the neckline of this tee-shirt… and then going up his neck, and to his ear. "Where's Mark?" I whispered.
"With Jenna," he whispered back hoarsely. "He said if he wasn't back by eleven, I shouldn't count on him being back until morning."
"Well, he's almost forty-five minutes late… I guess that means you… and I… have the apartment all to ourselves tonight." I bit his ear gently. And he finally responded.
He turned my face to his, and kissed me deeply. To feel his lips on mine again was heaven.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, and Jesse slowly pushed me back against the couch. His hands held my waist, and were slowly creeping up. But then he must have realized that we were still on his roommate's bed, basically, so he stood up, pulled me to my feet, and led me into his bedroom.
I lay down on the bed, and he followed. We started kissing again, getting our bodies back in sync with each other. He peeled off my shirt, and then moved his fingers to my back to get rid of my bra. When he got it off, and tossed it away, he leaned up on his elbow and admired my topless form.
"I've missed you so much," he said, caressing my waist. I smiled.
"Me, or my boobs?" He grinned, moving his eyes upward to my face.
"Both." I laughed and pulled off his shirt, and then dragged his head back down to mine.
We kissed for a while more before his hands went to the waist of my jeans and started unbuttoning and unzipping them. I wiggled myself out of them, and then pulled his own navy blue plaid flannel pants off.
He ran his hands up and down the length of my body, making me shiver. I hooked my leg around his, which made him shudder. In a good way, not a repulsed way. Even though I had apparently just given him the Goosebumps, beads of moisture appeared on his forehead.
As he pushed himself into me, I cupped his face in my hands and held it as I kissed him. God, I loved him so much. And not just because he made me feel incredible.
The intense pleasure he was giving me made me moan and call his name hoarsely. It grew and grew, until it exploded in me, leaving me breathless and floating.
As we both recovered, I lay my head on Jesse's chest, staring at the white, slightly cracked, ceiling. His arms came around me, and his fingers started slowly tracing themselves up and down my stomach. It instantly gave me the chills.
"It was driving me crazy, not knowing when I'd be able to see you again," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Even though I'm still mad that you left without telling anyone—and I have more to say to you on the matter tomorrow— you don't know how happy I was to see you."
I rolled over so my chest was pressed against his. His arms wrapped around me, and I smiled, and then kissed him deeply. When I broke off to breathe, I rested my head on his shoulder.
"I love you so much," I said. His hands stroked my back.
"I know, Querida. I love you too." We were silent for a moment, until he spoke again. "I think we both know you can't stay here forever." I sighed, and buried my head in his chest. "Of course you can stay for a few days… but you have to go back eventually." He kissed my forehead. "But Querida, I promise, no matter how much your mother tries, you'll never get rid of me." And then he started tickling me. I shrieked and writhed as he rolled over and pinned me to the bed.
"Jesse!" I giggled, and then I thought I heard a creak. "Did you hear that?" He nuzzled my neck as he continued to tickle my waist—and I continued to squirm.
"Stop trying to distract me," he laughed into my neck. I shrieked with laughter again.
"Jesse, stop it," I laughed. This time, however, he did. I guess all of my squirming and wiggling beneath him had excited him, if the bulge against my thigh said anything.
He leaned down and kissed me deeply, and I arched my back and murmured his name against his lips.
And then I heard a quiet click, and light filled the room. Startled, Jesse immediately and simultaneously rolled off of me and pulled the sheet up to make sure I was covered from whoever it was who was wandering into Jesse's room. Mark, I presumed, who just got home late and was wondering what all the screaming was.
However, when I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest, I realized it was far, far worse than Jesse's roommate.
My mother stood there, her mouth wide open in shock and her eyes wide and angry.
"Mom, what are you doing here? How did you know where I was?" I asked, panicked. She shut her mouth, and then opened it again to speak.
"You aren't entirely unpredictable, Susannah. And I think I should be asking you what you're doing here, when I had sent you to your room and expressly forbidden you to see him. Yet here you are, in bed with him. Get dressed, now. I'm taking you home this instant. We will discuss your punishment when we get home."
"No, Mom, I'm not coming home!" I nearly shouted. Jesse laid a hand on my arm and murmured my name, trying to calm me down, but I ignored him. "I can't stand living with you! You won't listen to me or trust me at all! I'm an adult now, Mom, you have to let me make my own decisions. You can't just lock me in my room every time I do something you don't approve of."
"I can do what I want! I'm your mother. Now get out of bed and get dressed."
"No!" I repeated. Jesse was remaining silent, obviously not wanted to entangle himself in this. I couldn't blame him.
"Stop throwing yourself at him! You're acting like a common tramp! You broke my heart when you told me you've slept with more than one man. I thought I raised you to be better than that. And you're still sleeping with him."
"What, so I'm some dirty slut just because Jesse and I love each other?" My mom snorted.
"Love? Please. Guys this age don't love anyone, they just pretend to so they have an outlet for their hormones." I looked at my mother in shock. Had she lost her mind? She was never like this. Something was up with her, but I didn't know what.
Jesse, who had smoothly grabbed his boxers from the floor and slipped them on under the blanket, sat up straighter. "Mrs. Ackerman, believe me when I say that I love your daughter very much. I would never, ever do anything to hurt her." I smiled at Jesse, but my mom ignored him.
"Get dressed now, Suze. I'm taking you home."
"No, Mom. Why can't you trust me? I want to be with Jesse. At least until you stop being so psychotic." She glared at me.
"Fine. Stay here. But then don't bother coming back." Before I knew what was happening, she had slammed the bedroom door, and a second later I heard the entrance to the apartment slam too.
Jesse and I stared at each other in shock, before I buried my face in his chest and burst into tears.
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Whatever is making Mrs. Ackerman so crazy? Review, and you'll find out.