-13.

Saturday. 6:00. This presented an unforeseen problem, and Daria stared at the phone, rehearsing exactly how to tell Tom about it.

Said unforeseen problem, the wrench in the works, so to speak, lay in the fact that Daria was grounded from going out for a week, excluding school.

How did she get that way?

Thinking back on the reason for her parental punishment, a smile curled the corners of her lips. At least her infraction had been worth the sentence, thrice over. She thought back on her night with Trent for the umpteenth time that day. It seemed nearly surreal, so unlikely, too good to be true.

She remembered the way he'd led her into his room, sat her down on his bed. Knelt before her like a knight with his lady, unlaced her boots, first one, then the other. Long fingers slid over her calves, only a prelude to the pleasure he would soon elicit from her nerves, as though she were an instrument he already knew how to play. "Are you sure about this?" he'd asked, also in something of a state of disbelief.

"Yes." At that point, Daria found herself limited to monosyllables, and articulate speech seemed to only go downhill from there.

Trent needed no more encouragement than that. He'd plied her with kisses, molded her to his will like clay in his hands.

Leaning over her, clad only in his pants, Trent had said between soft, warm kisses upon her neck, "You know, as much as this is about...your education, I wouldn't offer if I didn't already want you. You should know that."

Daria's mouth opened slightly with surprise. Or perhaps it was the effect of Trent's latest ministrations, the light scrape of teeth upon her collarbone. It seemed stupid, being half naked below Trent, clad now in only her skirt and bra, yet his open admission of desire still seemed bold to her. Did she really think she could pretend this was a purely educational experience, sans pleasure or even emotion?

You're sick, Morgandorffer, she'd scolded herself.

"You don't make love out of the goodness of your heart, eh?"

Trent smiled, looking up from his focus upon her skin. What was he doing? Daria hadn't even quite yet graduated from high school. At least she was 18, but still...the truth was, the opportunity had slapped him in the face, and he simply couldn't pass it up. Maybe she hadn't quite lived as long as he had, but her maturity surpassed his own in many ways.

"It is goodness, but a different kind. It's definitely not pity." He ducked back down to plant an open mouthed kiss upon her breastbone, causing her back to arch against him. It was a pity for him, perhaps. Because after this was over and done with, she would walk right back into Tom's arms, probably to never return to his again. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, how he would handle it, but he didn't care to think on it at the moment.

"Well, it's nice to know I'm not exactly a charity case, then," she'd said breathily.

Throughout the foreplay Trent continually reminded himself to be gentle, to go slow. It was Daria's first time; he wanted to be good to her. Good for her. And hopefully when the time came, cause her the least pain he could possibly manage.

How was it that he would be her first? That special one...maybe it should be Tom. Maybe he should stop, tell her she needs to make her mistakes and fumbles with her virgin boyfriend, the way most everyone else does. It's part of learning. Part of life. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe she would regret it. But Daria was a strong girl. He realized this probably meant way more to Daria, with him, than she let on. Even a way of having her cake and eating it too. Exploring physical relationships with both the man she's in love with, and a more forbidden fruit: her best friend's brother, who she'd been curious about all along.

He could have said no, but he really, really didn't want to.

As was inevitable, soon came the awkward moment of truth: complete nudity in front of a lover for the first time. Daria would never forget the sense of wonder in Trent's expression, as he looked upon her unclothed form, almost as though he'd never seen a naked woman before in his life. "You're so beautiful, Daria," he'd told her, fingertips feathering appreciatively across the round of her bare stomach.

Soon after came the main events that had brought them together in the first place. Daria never dreamed of the things Trent could do with his hands, or his mouth. Perhaps he was acting as her teacher, but in a way Daria feared he'd ruined her anyway for Tom. Could her present boyfriend ever be so intuitive as her musician lover? Even with practice... And there was that sense of power Daria found, exotic and new. The power of cupping a man in her hands and hearing him sigh for her, knowing groans and hissing intakes of breath were all caused by her.

Two orgasms later and a cry that made them both glad that Jane still wasn't home, Trent finally eased inside her. Wet as she was, it still managed to feel as though she were being ripped in half. He took her slowly, slowly as possible, hating that he hurt her but obeying her bit-lipped nod to go on. There was pain, sharp and tight, unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. But also there was a knowledge, a victory, that Daria reveled in. She would not be so archaic as to say a woman is made a woman by the touch of a man, and yet in a way it was a large stepping stone towards true adulthood. Hearing her name imbedded in a shuddering groan from Trent's lips, she knew life would never be the same again.

"Stay with me," he'd requested, pulling her close as they collapsed back on the mattress. So she had. Feeling his wiry arms around her, their warm bare skin sliding against each other under the covers, Daria found she really had no motivation to move. And she did not move, until around 3:00 in the morning, when she woke from her doze and realized her parents must be beside themselves with worry, and that phone call they'd so pointedly ignored was probably her mother.

"I have to go," she told Trent, who gazed upon her through a haze of sleep. "This could be the last time you see me alive; my mother just might kill me."

Trent coughed, that raspy laugh causing the corners of Daria's mouth to curl. "Then maybe you shouldn't go."

Daria had leaned down to kiss him goodbye, and those clever fingers winding in her hair, drawing her to him, nearly convinced her to just curl back up under the covers again. He'd smiled at her, slight but genuine, and there was a sorrow in his eyes that saddened Daria. "Good luck Saturday," he'd wished her. Though there seemingly was no malice in Trent's statement, the reminder of the other man in her life was something she could have done without at that moment.

"Um...thanks."

Now that all was said and done, Daria couldn't help but wonder if she'd done a very bad thing. Tom would be heartbroken, and livid, if he knew...but he wasn't going to know. Besides, there was a higher purpose to it, wasn't there? Oh hell, Morgandorffer... This was infidelity just as sure as it was education...was there ever a point in her life when she hadn't wanted Trent? Perhaps at the beginning she'd had no idea what she really wanted to do with him...but she had a much better understanding of that now, didn't she?

After another short kiss goodbye she'd slipped out of Trent's room, out into the night to sneak home. Trent watched her go with something of an unexpected pang in his chest, finding he wished he could be a little more than just her teacher. Daria was cool for a human being, and as a girl still in high school she was out of sight. He hoped Tom realized what he had, but doubted the kid would until it was too late. Guys were daft like that...himself included.

Daria finally built up the courage to dial up Tom. "Hello?"

"Hey Tom. It's Daria."

"Hi Daria." She could hear the smile in his voice at hearing her own. Oh God, could he but know what she'd done...

"About Saturday night..."

"Yeah?" Ah, there is was. The apprehension. A puppy dog expecting to be kicked at any moment.

"I'm afraid the parental Gods have spoken, and although I escaped sacrifice at the altar, I'm banished from leaving the house for a week."

She could just see those soft brown eyebrows raising with surprise. "A week? What did you do?"

"I...stayed out too late at Jane's house, and forgot to call home." The lie rolled off her tongue so easy, with no remorse. Perhaps she was skewed, but she had yet to feel true pangs of guilt.

"Oh." The disappointment in his voice caused a pang deep in Daria's gut. She never wanted to hurt Tom, but she seemed to have such a talent for it.

"So...rain check?"

"Yeah. Sure. I'll call you later." Tom hung up the phone, obviously frustrated, perhaps wondering on some level if she hadn't done this on purpose. Daria was so strange, so chilly at moments. Sometimes he wondered if it was a total fantasy on his part, hoping that someday he might reach a little deeper inside the girl. That she might actually let him in.

But what is love, without lying to yourself at least a little?