Nineteen.

Kristy

He hasn't spoken to me since.

I know what I did was wrong. Well, maybe not wrong. But it was sure as hell mean. I can't imagine what Alan must have thought when I walked out of that room. Was I rejecting him? Making fun of him? Changing my mind? Was I scared?

I only wish I knew.

There is one thing I do know. It's something I've been contemplating in the back of my head ever since I left the room last night. This is Alan Gray. He's never, ever been a serious guy. I've never known him to be shy or quiet, and that's exactly what he's being.

For some reason, I don't trust it. Alan has spent the past five years tormenting me, even when we went out together back in seventh grade. How, all of a sudden, do I have the power to tame this guy?

Since that moment last night, Alan telling me what he did, I've been feeling... well, old. I may be the same age as everyone around me, but I feel ten years older. Because I've had the experiences. I've gone through things that the majority of humans never have to encounter.

If I sleep with Alan I might screw him up.

I know things that he doesn't, like the fact that I'm going to Davis in the fall. I don't know what school he's going to, but the odds are it won't be in California. I care about Alan, because he's a friend, a childhood friend. I don't want to see him hurt. And it may sound a little full of myself, but I don't want to let him fall in love with me. I want him to be okay with life. I want all of my friends to. I've seen firsthand what it is to truly hit bottom, and I would never wish it upon anyone.

I know what it is like to be a teenager in love. I know what it's like to have your heart broken. I know what it's like to make a disaster out of your life over a stupid high school romance.

I am not ready for a relationship, because I am not ready to hurt him.

I keep telling myself all of this, over and over again. I thought of it in Dawn's room, where I broke down for the first time in nearly a year. I thought about it when I held Dawn in my arms, and I could see Claudia looking at me, silently wondering who I had become. I thought about it all night, watching Alan not meet my eyes, sit away from me, ignore me. Being so... childish. And that's really okay. I only wish I could still be like that, to sit about and purposely not look at someone just to make them mad. To pout. It's what being a kid is all about. I stopped being a kid when I was only fifteen years old.

So today I've been quiet. I want to talk to Dawn, but she seems to have amnesia when it comes to the events of last night. I want to talk to Alan, but he's been busy ignoring me, trying to hurt me the way I hurt him. Pete and Logan invited him to run into town with them but he'd glanced my way and said no. He wants me to see that he's pissed. Claudia's asleep, Stacey's hiding in the house, Mary Anne is in between shooting worried glances at her sister, pawing Trent, and arguing with Trent, and Mallory has turned into the Girl Who Doesn't Speak. I'm sitting on the beach with most of these people yet have nobody to talk to. I wonder how long this vacation is really going to last, because two weeks seems like an awfully long time to me.

We've been here for three days.

Sighing to myself, I shade my already Chanel-clad eyes from the sun and look up at it, guessing it's maybe four in the afternoon. I stand up silently and gather my beach gear - my towel, suntan lotion, and Derek Jeter book, not much - and head back to the house. Maybe I'll cook dinner. Or maybe I'll just go to my room and lock the door. I'd spent most of the night in Dawn's room last night, until all of that happened. Then I just stayed up. Alan had eventually gone back to our room to snooze. If I get to the room first and lock it then it's rightfully mine for the night.

Sounds good to me. I hurried into the house, down the hall, and into the room. I was in such a hurry that I didn't notice footsteps behind me on the wood floor. I barged into the room and went to slam the door without looking back. When I didn't here the door shut I spun around. Standing with his hand planted firmly on the door was Alan.

His face a mixture of sadness, frustration, and anger, he took a step across the threshold. "Can I at least get my stuff?"

Stuck where I was, I simply nodded. I had planned on throwing his things into his bag and setting it in the livingroom. Or maybe I had planned on sitting on the bed and waiting until he knocked on the door, begging to come in and talk to me. I don't know.

Alan slowly made his way across the room and grabbed his duffle bag. Then he slowly set it on the bed, and slowly pulled the zipper open. Everything was at a snails pace. He didn't look at me.

I sat on the bed next to the bag, but he did his best not to look at me. I sighed. Might as well get this over with. "Alan, I'm moving to California next month."

His eyes flashed bright and met my own for the first time in nearly twenty-four hours. "What does that have to do with anything?" he asked quietly.

"Everything. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to get hurt. I just want everyone to be happy..." I trailed off lamely.

Alan regarded me thoughtfully, his mouth set in a firm line. "That's not what it felt like last night." Almost a whisper.

"You... you just don't understand, Alan. Sex complicates things so much. I just don't know if I'm ready for everything being your first entails. And I really don't want to know what you must think of me."

Alan's mouth had curved down into a frown. I guess that's better than no emotion at all. "I don't care about the past." He said simply. "Don't put words in my mouth or thoughts in my head. You have no right to think for me."

I opened my mouth to protest. I was under attack.

"No, shut up. Listen to me, okay? I'm a virgin by choice, I felt like waiting for the right person. I understand that by today's standards that makes me a freak, but I'm not saying I want to wait for marriage, or wait for the girl I'm going to be with forever. I just want her to be special. And you know damn well how much I've liked you for what, the past ten years? Since we were little, Kristy, I always had a crush on you, grade school middle school whatever. You always blew me off or called me gross or dorky or whatever, and I decided that school being over might be my shot. And it was! It totally was. I knew after two days I wanted it to be you, Kris. This has nothing to do with anyone's past but ours."

I looked up at him, tears threatening the backs of my eyes. "But in the fall..."

"So we have the summer. What's wrong with that? Besides, who the hell are you to say we won't last through the fall? Ever heard of the telephone? Internet? Plane tickets? I'm going to Florida State. That's far away, too. You don't see me pushing people away, do you?"

"No." I replied, my head down. Guilt, sadness, and panic coursed through my body. There was something else, there, too. A warm sensation creeping up the back of my neck. Alan took my hands, and the warmth spread through me, straight to my heart. I smiled up at him, blinking back the tears again. Not tears or sadness or guilt or unknowing. This was something new. Something I had never known before. I looked into Alan's eyes and prayed that he was feeling the same thing, but I didn't dare say it. Not yet.

It sure did feel like he said it, though. That long speech... it sounded a lot like "I love you, I don't care."

I wonder if he does.

I wonder if I do.

"Alan..." I whispered. He leaned down and kissed me sweetly. "Alan, I'm so sorry..."

"I forgive you." He murmured with a grin. He manuvered himself to the top end of the bed, leaning against the pillows. He patted the spot beside him and I curled to his body. He kissed the top of my head, running a hand down my arm. We both stayed that way, simply staring at the wall. Affection. After a few minutes the sounds of the rest of the crowd returning filled the house. Dawn walked past our door yelling something to the kitchen about veggie burgers.

I groaned. "We'd better stop her."

Alan made a gagging noise that sounded like agreement, and we both slid off the bed. Leading the way, Alan sauntered to the door slowly. When He got to it he stopped, hand on the knob. He turned to me, a smile on his face. "You know what?"

"What's that?"

I heard a click, and looked down to see he had applied the lock. I looked back up at him in mock horror. "Come here," he was saying, grabbing my waist.

"Is this really how you pictured it? In the middle of the afternoon with ten people in the next room?" I asked him, half-serious but allowing myself to be dragged toward the bed.

Alan stopped at the edge and untied my bikini top. Just like that. No asking permission, no shyness. "This," he said, grinning as my top fell to the floor, "is perfect."

I looked down at myself, wanting to be horrified and embarrassed. Neither came to me. Instead that warmth simply spread through me, once again. "You've got a lot of nerve."

"Yeah." Alan put his hands on me, and I sucked in a breath. "This," He whispered, leaning down to me, "Is going to be, like, one of the top ten thirty second moments of your life. So don't be running away."

I laughed out loud as Alan took me in his arms and lowered me back to the bed. Forgetting the future, pushing away the past, I decided to live in the moment for once.

"You sure seem to know what you're doing," I told him skeptically as he pulled my bottoms off.

"Nah. I'm wingin' it. Plus I've seen a lot of porn."

"Been flogging it all these years, thinking of me?" I said with a grin and he came back up to my face. He planted a kiss on my lips. I marveled for another moment about how comfortable I felt. I promptly forgot that feeling and got lost in a haze of Alan, this boy who had never done this before. It was short but sweet, and when Alan collapsed onto me, nearly gasping for breath, I heard those words tumble from his lips. The ones I knew were coming. The ones I didn't dare say first.

I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his neck as I ran my fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. "I love you, too, Alan." I whispered. It was right.

We could have laid that way, limbs entangled, sweating, and catching our breath, forever. I would have preferred to. Unfortunately, at the same time, we heard footsteps thundering down the stairs, and then Mary Anne's voice, strained and shrill.

"Mallory Pike, come back here! Don't you run away from me!"

Alan and I both looked toward the door, waiting.

"You broke up a year ago, you crazy bitch!"

Mallory didn't sound violent or vindictive or even jealous. She just sounded mad.

And maybe a little scared.