APRIL
I'm not a virgin anymore, it's official.
When I moved away to college, I figured this would happen. At least, I wanted it to. But I expected that the aftermath would feel more momentous and life-changing. Right now, lying here next to a very sleepy boy who's grown to be my best friend, I still feel like the same old April.
I think I like that better, better than if I would've felt changed. I still recognize myself. I still have my same hands, my same freckles, my same thought process and worries. But none of them are at the forefront of my mind, not right now at least. The one thing I'm thinking about right now is sleep, and how truly grateful I am that Jackson was the one I chose to give my virginity to.
I know virginity is a made-up concept. My parents don't believe that, of course - they believe in what the church does, that it's supposed to be saved for a woman's husband - but I've known that that school of thought is outdated since early high school. A woman's worth isn't altered by who she does or doesn't sleep with. It seemed really old-world and archaic, but for the sake of my parents, I stayed a virgin while I was under their roof. And because no boys even looked my way. That helped a lot, too.
I wonder if my mom will be able to see it on me, that I'm not a virgin anymore. My stomach twists with worry about that, but there's nothing I can do about it now. It's not like I can take it back. And even if I could, I wouldn't.
I lift my eyes to look at Jackson, who's lying on his back with one arm around me. His eyelids are heavy, and when he senses me watching him, he looks down and smiles.
"What," he says.
"You're tired," I say, walking my fingers up his chest. "I wore you out."
He chuckles, letting his eyes close briefly. "Yeah, you did." He takes in a deep breath and continues with, "I know you know that you weren't my… my first, or anything. But I still wanted to tell you that, um, I mean… this meant something to me, too."
Something warm and infectious blooms in my chest and spreads out to my entire body. I don't really know what to say in response, so I just duck my chin to my chest and bashfully grin because of it. I tighten my arm around him and pull myself closer, if possible, and press a couple kisses to his warm chest.
He strokes my hair and runs the ends through his fingers absentmindedly, while I drag my fingernails over his chest as light as a feather. He gets goosebumps because of it, and his nipples even get hard, which I feel proud that I've done.
I make quick, mischievous eye contact and bend my neck so I can reach them. When I do, I close my mouth around one of them and run my tongue around the hardened point of it, and suck it between my teeth.
"April…" he says, his voice a warning. "We have to go to sleep."
I smile against him, my lips still touching. "I know," I say.
"If you keep doing that, neither of us will be sleeping," he says, then pulls me back up to face level by my armpits. "Quit being a tease."
I giggle and hold one side of his face in my hand. "But I like to," I say.
"I know," he says, then kisses me. "You have plenty of time to be one, just not now. We're both sleepy."
"Hmm, fine," I say, nestling against him. I place my ear right over his heartbeat, and the rhythmic beat of it lulls me straight to sleep, even quicker than him.
In the morning, I wake up before our alarm with Jackson's arm still heavy around my shoulders. His body is radiating heat, which is making me sweaty, but I don't want to move away yet.
He's still deeply asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly, and his face is serene and calm. The covers are low on his hips, which means that his entire chest and torso are exposed, and that also means that just beneath this thin sheet… is something else that I want to see again.
I don't know what ignites the curiosity and temptation within me, but there's no ignoring it. I sit up a little bit and glance at his face to see that he's still asleep, though my guess is that he won't be for very much longer. I take in a deep breath and trail my hand down his stomach and slip it beneath the sheet, then I feel him.
I'm not sure what to do with it, but I want to do something. He's always going down on me, giving me oral sex - it was how he introduced me to feelings I'd never known before. But not once have I given him head, and I feel like it's a favor I should return. He deserves it, and I want to do it. I'm just not exactly sure how, or what he'll think.
Well, I'm pretty sure that he'll be pleasantly surprised. How could he not? We have a consensual relationship, and what guy wouldn't like to be woken up like this?
But suddenly, I feel shaky. I really don't have any idea what I'm doing or how to start. It would actually help if he were awake to guide me, but that would pretty much defeat the purpose of what I'm trying to do here. I don't think I can do it; just as easily as it came, I lose my gumption and chicken out. I still want to do something, though, so I keep my hand where it is and wrap my fingers around his half-hard penis.
I hear his breathing change, but he doesn't wake up fully yet. I smirk and look towards his face, then keep my hand where it is as I situate myself to rest against his body, my face buried in his neck so I can start kissing him.
He made me feel incredible last night. I hope that I did the same for him, but I want to make sure that he feels good today, too. And all the time.
"Wake up…" I whisper, kissing the corner of his jaw. He's almost fully hard in my hand now, which I feel a weird sense of accomplishment over. "Wake up, J…"
"Hmm," he makes a low sound in his throat, and I smile because I can feel it through my lips. "What are you up to?" he slurs.
"I wanna make you feel good," I say, moving my mouth to his chest and trailing kisses down to his ribcage. "I wanted to surprise you, but… I didn't know how."
He finally opens his eyes and when he looks at me, they're sparkling. "C'mere," he says, and I let out a high-pitched giggle when he pulls me on top of him to straddle his hips. I'm still mostly naked save for my underwear, and suddenly his hands are everywhere on me.
I flatten my body out so I'm resting between his legs, feeling his insistent hard-on between us, and I frame his face while I smother it in kisses. "I wanted to…" I begin, feeling his fingers weave through my messy hair. "Wake you up."
"You got your wish," he says, hands on my butt.
"With my mouth on you," I say, a little bit cautiously. He blinks, unable to keep the sly smirk off of his lips.
"For real?" he says, disbelieving.
"I wanted to," I say. "I just didn't know… how. But I wanted to make you feel good."
He squeezes my butt and pats it softly, and our faces gravitate towards each other for a kiss. We get into it, so the only sounds in the room are that of us breathing through our noses and the smack of our lips against each other, and I love it. My center is throbbing with want for him, and the only thing that stops me from asking if we can have sex again is the fact that my phone alarm goes off where it rests on the nightstand, blasting 'Holy Ground' by Taylor Swift.
"Ugh…" I groan, pulling my face away from his so I can reach over and shut it off. I set my chin down on his chest, blinking up at him. "I don't wanna go."
"You don't?" he repeats.
I shake my head. "I wanna stay here. Right here. With you."
He chuckles. "All break. Right here?" I nod. "Not that that doesn't sound amazing," he says. "But we should get ready. We don't wanna make your parents wait."
As much as I hate his logic, I know he's right. We get out of bed and get ready, knowing that my parents will be down in front to meet us in an hour or so. When I get out of the shower, I see him sitting on my bed still in his towel, smiling at seemingly nothing.
"You look crazy," I say, adjusting my own towel. "Smiling at the wall."
His attention snaps to me. "Shut up," he says.
"What are you so happy about?" I ask.
He shrugs. "Not gonna tell you, because all you'll do is call me crazy."
I roll my eyes and look over my shoulder at him as I stand in front of my closet. I need to get my bra and underwear on, but his eyes are searing into me. "Don't watch me!" I say.
He laughs. "As if I haven't seen you naked before," he says, but turns his head to the side anyway. Once I'm in my underthings, I walk over to him and put my hands on his shoulders, and he glances at what I've chosen - a dark purple bra and pink underwear with white stars on them. "Great job matching," he says.
"Shush," I say, and his hands wander down to my hips.
"If you really wanna know, I was sitting here thinking about last night," he says.
My face heats up in a wild blush. "Seriously?" I ask.
"Well, yeah," he says. "It was pretty amazing."
I remove my hands from his shoulders and tuck my wet hair behind my ears a little compulsively.
"Are you glad we did it?" he asks.
"Of course I am," I say. "I already told you… I… I really liked it."
"Good," he says, and stands up. "Because I did, too." He plants one hand on the side of my neck and kisses me - long and sweet. "We should get dressed. Or else bad things are gonna happen."
I giggle and turn around to my closet, finding a pair of yoga pants and a crew neck DePaul sweatshirt to put on.
"You should wear mine," I hear him say from behind me.
I stop running the brush through my hair and look over my shoulder at him. "Hmm?" I say.
"Wear my sweatshirt," he says, holding his gray DePaul hoodie out as an offering. "It's clean. And… I mean, we're trying to show your parents we're dating, right? Girls always wear their boyfriend's shit."
I look up at his face, which has turned into something I don't see often on him - unsureness. Like he thinks I'm going to say no, which I don't plan on.
"Good idea," I say, and pull off my blue one to trade for his. When I put it on, I'm overwhelmed with how much it smells like him. It's pretty big on me, the sleeves go way past my hands, but not comically so. It's cozy. Perfect for a long car ride. "I like it," I say, holding my arms close to my chest. "It's like you're hugging me."
He smiles at the floor, turning his head away like he doesn't want me to see. I do the same, turning around to smile like an idiot with my bottom lip in my mouth. I have no idea why this makes me so happy, but it really does.
When I get the text from my mom that they're here, my stomach is alive with nerves. "They're here," I say, puffing out my cheeks to blow air out. "I'm gonna die."
"We'll be fine," Jackson says.
"Okay," I say. "Okay. We have our story, right? The one we told everyone else. And… we've been dating for two months. But we have not," I make a big gesture with my arms. "Had sex. That's something that they cannot know. Okay?"
"Breathe," he says, rolling his eyes lightly. "I'm not an idiot. I'm not gonna walk up to the car and be like, hey Mr. and Mrs. Kepner! How are you? I'm great, you know why? 'Cause last night I banged your daughter!"
I screw up my face in a smirk that I try to keep at bay, but it doesn't work. "Shut up," I say, smacking his arm. "I just wanna make sure we're on the same page."
"We are," he says, and I lock my door behind us as we leave with our suitcases in tow. "It's gonna be good."
"Promise?" I ask, pausing as we wait for the elevator.
He leans over and gives me a kiss on the forehead, one that I lean into. "Promise," he says.
I see the silver van parked outside when we get off the elevator, and the shock of my mom's red hair follows suit in my line of vision. "There she is," I say.
"I see where you got the hair from," Jackson says, a smile in his voice.
We push open the doors of Clifton and are met with a high-pitched shriek from my mom. "April!" she cheers, her arms up high in the air as she trots to me for a hug. She wraps me up tight in her arms to the point of suffocation, and I laugh with my head buried in the same perfume she's worn for my whole life. "You look so grown up! What happened to my little baby duck?" she asks, holding my shoulders. "Oh, I'm so proud of you. It's so good to see you. And…" She beams behind me, where Jackson is standing. "You, sir. You must be the famous Jackson."
She and I have talked on the phone a little bit, and she knows the bare minimum about him. Over the next week, I'm sure she'll get to know so much more.
"Yeah, I am," he says, and I can't help but smile when he starts talking. I don't know why, but it just makes me so proud. "Nice to meet you." He sticks out his hand, and Mom shakes it.
"Well, you're absolutely lovely," she says to him, and I close my eyes in embarrassment. "Alice is going to love you. Don't you think, Duckie?"
"Probably," I mutter, then look at Jackson. "Alice is 12 and a little boy crazy right now."
"I can handle that," Jackson says, then picks up both of our bags.
"Oh, let's get those in the car," my mom says, popping the trunk. "Your dad's waiting inside. Joe! The kids are here."
From our view in the trunk, Dad looks back from the driver's seat. "Hey, Duckie!" he says enthusiastically. "I missed that face of yours."
"Hey, dad," I say, and watch as Jackson hauls our bags inside. "This is Jackson. My boyfriend."
The driver's side door opens and the car dings as Dad leaves it that way, coming around the back to meet Jackson face-to-face. "Jackson," he says, and I can see Jackson straighten his shoulders to stand at his full height with good posture. "I'm Joe Kepner. Nice to meet you, son."
Jackson shakes his hand, and a weird, warm feeling radiates throughout my body. But I like it. A lot. I like seeing Jackson next to my parents, it's like two different parts of my life coming together.
Once we're out of the city and the stressful part of the drive is over, Mom turns around in her seat to face us. "So, I'm ready for the story," she says. "How did you two meet? How did this all start?"
Jackson and I trade glances. "I… do you wanna tell it?" I ask him.
"I'd love to hear it from you, Jackson," Mom says, her eyes practically gleaming.
"Okay, well…" he begins, and his eyes flit over to me. "First of all, we were in the same tour group. Like, before classes even started. I saw her - actually, I saw that red hair - and noticed her right away. She had her face in a book the whole time like the true nerd she is-"
I punch his shoulder for good measure.
"So she didn't even notice me," he continues. "But I noticed her. I thought she was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen."
My cheeks are burning, and I find myself unable to look at him even though I can feel his eyes on me.
"But fast forward to when school started. Actually, the night before. We were at a floor meeting, we actually live on the same floor. I don't know if you knew that. So I saw her there, and we're going around saying interesting facts about ourselves. This one says, literally the only interesting fact that she could think of, was that she has goats. Goats."
"Oh god, don't," I groan, covering my face and shaking my head at myself.
"So, of course, that stuck out in my mind. I was like, this is the girl I saw on my tour. And now she's out here talking about goats. But still, I didn't go up to her. I really felt like she wouldn't give me the time of day, anyway. She really didn't like me at first, if you can believe it. We had music theory class together, and she thought I was dumber than a rock."
Mom looks at me amusedly. "April!"
"She did," Jackson says. "Meanwhile, she's a master at the piano. I saw her playing it on one of the first days and I was like… blown away. Because not only is she beautiful and smart, she's also a musical genius?! I couldn't believe it. So, I gave her my number. I mustered up the courage and gave it to her, no matter how dumb I felt. She took it, but she didn't even call me."
I decide to get into the story, to make it look more legit. "At first," I say.
"No, you never called me," he says, raising his eyebrows. "I had to corner you on our floor. Lucky that we live on the same one, otherwise I never would have been able to get her in one place. And… I mean, what can I say? I won her over."
I roll my eyes. "He thinks he did."
"Well, you said yes," he says. "When I asked you out. Didn't you?"
Something pangs in my heart. The genuine way he's telling this fake story and the excited look in his eyes makes me almost believe that it really happened. I can't help but wonder how our relationship would have been different if this was the way it had really gone down. But almost as soon as I think that, I will it away. This is all a big ruse. Guys like him don't go for girls like me. Only in movies and made-up things, like the story we've concocted.
"Yeah," I say, and he interlaces his fingers with mine. "But I still made you wait for my answer."
His eyes flash as he probably remembers that I said I'd make him wait. "For like, 24 hours," he says.
"Still," I say.
"Then, we went on our first date at Clarke's Diner," he says. "She ordered pancakes and I got this burger that was way too cold. But I didn't even care, because I was with her. And no matter what, she makes everything okay. Better than okay. When I'm with her, I'm happy. It doesn't matter what I'm doing. She came to all my soccer games this quarter, took care of me when I got a concussion, we've gotten really close."
I smile softly. "He left his last soccer game to come see my piano recital," I say, squeezing his hand.
"I would never have missed it," he says, and now instead of looking at my mom, he's looking at me.
"He really likes watching me play," I say, looking at my mom.
"I love it," he says. "She's so good. Who knew that much talent could be trapped in such a little body? I'm like, blown away, every time she plays. My favorite of her songs is definitely Nocturne. I jam out to that one."
Mom laughs, and I smile.
"And the way she sings? Whew," Jackson says, and tightens his grip on my fingers. "My girl can do it all."
I bite my lower lip, the grin on my face is uncontrollable. He's making all this sound so real. "He even likes Taylor Swift, too," I say.
"Really?" Mom says.
"Only real men like Taylor," Dad pipes up. "Check in the little storage part of the seat back there." Jackson looks in front of him and pulls out all five of Taylor's CDs. "Yep," my dad continues. "When you got four girls at home, you learn to like yourself some Taylor. I'm glad you already know how it goes."
Jackson laughs and puts the CDs back, and Mom looks at us with her hands folded under her chin. "I hope you know how happy this is making me," she says. I'm pretty surprised to hear her say that. Growing up, she never really gave me the boyfriend talk, because I've never been the one who boys saw. "April's never had a boyfriend before."
"Mom…" I groan.
"Oh, honey, enough. Just let me say this. I can see how happy you make her, Jackson. And I'm really glad you're here."
"Me, too," he says, and pats my leg. "And she makes me happy too, you know."
"I know," Mom says, and I think I'm about to die from embarrassment.
After Mom turns back around in her seat and Dad puts the radio on, we're beginning the longest stretch of the drive along the highway. Jackson keeps one hand on my leg, and I like it there. As I look out the window, I can feel my eyelids getting heavier as the car lulls me into an inevitable sleep, so I lean my head against the window, even as it jostles and bumps me around.
"Here," I hear Jackson mutter, and he pulls me to lean the other way, so my head can rest on his shoulder. "There you go. Better?"
I nod against him, already drifting off as he situates his arm over the backs of my shoulders.
When we pull up in the driveway, everyone who isn't in the van with us is waiting on the porch. Alice is standing with one arm around a white pillar, Kimmie is sitting on the front step, and Libby is on the swing with little Liam in her lap.
"There they are," Mom says. "Just waitin' on ya."
"Oh, my gosh," I say, and yank open the door to the van. "What are you guys doing!"
"April!" they all chorus, and I hurry out of the van to meet them. Alice gets to me first and wraps her arms around me in a huge hug, and I lift her off the ground and swing her around.
"Little A!" I say. "You grew! You're so tall now!"
Kimmie stands up. "Hey, sissy," she says, and hugs me really tight. "I missed you."
"I missed you!" I say back, then turn to look at Libby and Liam. "Hey, bud!" I squeal, and rush over to my nephew and his mom. I pick him up off her lap and sway back and forth with him, kissing him all over his face. "My favorite little boy who I missed so much!" I say. "You got so big! You got so grown up!" I hold him on my hip and Libby stands, wrapping her arms around the both of us.
"Hey, baby sis," she says, and gives me a kiss on the head. "We're so glad you're home."
"Is this him?" Alice says, her voice sounding urgent. "Oh, my gosh. Kimmie, look. Duckie, is this him?!"
I can't help my smile as I look to Jackson, who's helping my dad haul the suitcases to the front door.
"Holy hell," Libby says, under her breath out of earshot of our parents. "That boy is staying in our house for a week? Seriously, April?"
"That's your boyfriend?" Kimmie asks.
"Guys," I say, trying to get them to stop. Once Jackson reaches the porch, he gives them all an out-of-breath smile. "This is Jackson. He's my boyfriend, so don't torture him or… be weird, or anything like that. Jackson, these are my sisters. This is Alice, she's the youngest. Then Kimmie, and this is Libby and her son, Liam. She's the oldest."
"You're the one who gave her the scar," Jackson says, pointing at Kimmie.
The Kepner blush shows itself across the apples of her cheeks. "I was only like, 6," she says.
He laughs. "I'm just messing with you."
"Who's ready for lunch?" Mom says enthusiastically, coming up from behind us. "Jackson, I made a place for you at the table. I hope you're hungry."
Once we're all sitting down, everyone wants me to catch them up on school, so I do. I go over the classes I had this quarter and what ones I liked and didn't like, and they make Jackson do the same.
"Why is your sweatshirt so big?" Alice asks, picking up some of the fabric by my elbow.
"Oh, um, it's Jackson's," I say, smiling as I pick up my fork to take another bike.
"How freaking cute," Libby says, and the look in her eyes is warm.
"Hey, I saw Charles the other day," Kimmie says. "At the game. I was there with Julia. He asked about you."
I suddenly feel bad, because I had all but forgotten about my friends Charles and Reed while I've been away from home for three months. A new life has completely taken over my old one, and I haven't looked back.
"Oh, yeah?" I say. "What'd he say?"
"Just asked how you were doing," Kimmie says, taking a sip of her water. "I told him good. He said you should call him when you get home for break."
"Okay," I say.
"Who's this?" Jackson asks.
"Don't be jealous," Libby says, cutting in with a laugh. "Does he get jealous, April?"
I giggle. "Sometimes."
"Oh, I'm not the jealous one between us," Jackson says, eyes wide. He points his thumb at me and I swat him on the arm.
"Shush!" I say.
All my sisters crack up.
"Charles was one of my best friends before I moved away. We never dated or anything weird like that," I say. "Plus, isn't he dating Reed now?"
"She's actually pregnant," Kimmie says.
My eyes grow huge. "Wait. What?" I exclaim.
"Yeah," Libby says. "I think she's like, almost five months now. But she said she didn't find out 'til after you left."
"How do you know?" I ask.
"She called me," she says, then tips her head towards Liam. "I know a thing or two about having babies."
"Well, yeah," I say. "What, from Charles? Is he the dad?"
Everyone nods. I don't know what to say, because that's what seems to happen in this little town if you don't leave. You get pregnant and you get stuck here. Not that I don't love Liam, and not that I don't want kids of my own someday, but I can daydream about that later. I don't want that for myself right now, and Reed didn't either. She was going go community college for nursing, and now things are going to get a lot harder for her.
I don't know if I'll see either of them while I'm home. It might be too weird, and I don't think I can stomach it. We're completely different people now. We always have been, the three of us, sort of friends by convenience. And now since I moved away and am getting to know myself better, I don't see myself hanging out with them anymore.
After dinner later that night, my family gets me to play my recital music at the piano. Jackson sits in the red armchair in the living room, the one that's usually mine, and Alice sits right at his feet. I feel pretty happy, playing for all of them, feeling all of their eyes on me.
"That was really beautiful, April," Mom says, standing up and kissing me on the head once I'm done. "I would've skipped my soccer game for that, too." She makes pointed eye contact with Jackson, and he grins.
Everyone filters out of the living room a few moments after. Everyone except Jackson, that is, who slides in to sit on the bench next to me.
"You haven't taught me something new in a while," he says. "I'm a little tired of playing Mary Had a Little Lamb all the time."
"Oh, yeah?" I say. "When's the last time you even played that?"
"I play it every night," he says. "After you go to sleep."
"Uh-huh."
"So I think you should teach me something new," he says.
"You do, do you?" I ask. He nods. "Okay… well, let's try Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."
"I love Twinkle, Twinkle," he says.
I roll my eyes and giggle at him. "Give me your hand," I say, and lay his fingers across the correct keys and show him the order and rhythm to play them. I overlap his hand with my own just like I did the first time, and he watches me work intently for a while. But after we go through the song twice, his eyes move up to my face. "You have to watch the keys," I say gently, and all he does is smile.
As I'm getting ready for bed later, Alice comes into the bathroom wearing a long, pink nightgown that used to be mine. Her hair is in two braids that rest on her shoulders, and she looks so young. "I heard you teaching Jackson that song earlier," she says.
"Oh, yeah," I say, looking in the mirror as I run a brush through my hair. "He likes to learn."
She smiles. "I was watching you guys," she says. "Have you seen the way he looks at you?"
I glance over at her, my brush hovering in midair. "What do you mean?" I ask.
She smirks. "His eyes get all shiny. And his face, it really lights up. It's like how Mom and Dad look at each other when they think we're not looking." She shrugs, her shoulders up by her ears. "I think he loves you, Duckie."
"Alice," I say, widening my eyes.
"I think he does," she says, whispering excitedly and stepping closer to me. "Do you love him?"
I'm filled with conflict. My little sister's eyes are alight with interest and puppy love, and I don't want to send her world crashing down. I don't know what I feel for Jackson, but it's nothing simple. Of course I have… feelings for him. But I don't know if I'm able to put them to words.
But for her, I'll try. If only to make her happy.
"Maybe," I say. "It hasn't been long enough. But… I think so. I think I could."
She squeals, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. "This is so perfect!" she says. "You're like his princess, April. You guys really look just like a fairytale."
"Ali…" I say, rolling my eyes. "You're so sappy."
"I don't care," she says, and grabs her toothbrush just as Jackson walks into the doorway.
"Hey, baby," he says. "Hey, Alice." She gives him a tiny wave. "Uh… your mom just set me up in the guest bedroom."
I furrow my eyebrows. "She did?" He nods. "Hold on."
He follows me to the guest bedroom, which Mom is just coming out of. "Oh, there you are," she says to me. "I got Jackson all set up in here."
"I… why?" I ask.
She looks at me confusedly. "You didn't think he was going to sleep in your room, did you?" she asks.
I guess I shouldn't have thought anything different. It was cool of my mom to be so welcoming of him, but thinking he could sleep with me was definitely expecting too much. "Uh, no," I say. "I guess not."
Mom nods and makes pointed eye contact with Jackson. "Jackson," she says. "This might seem a little personal, and I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. You do know that April was raised religious, and she believes in waiting for sex until marriage, don't you?"
If he trips up over that in his mind, he doesn't outwardly show it. "I know," he says. I haven't gone into that much detail about my family's religion with him. I obviously don't adhere to much of the constructs anymore, but my mom and dad still think that I do.
"And you're okay with that?" she continues. "You respect that?"
"Mom…" I groan.
"Honey, it's important," she says.
"He does," I say, widening my eyes. I need to get away from this conversation right now. I might vomit because of nerves. I feel like now, she's going to look at me and see how deeply I've been lying. "And he's tired. He wants to go to bed. He doesn't want you to lecture him."
"I'm not lecturing," she says. "Jackson, I'm not lecturing you. I just want to make sure we're all on the same page."
"We are, Mrs. Kepner," he says.
"Call me Karen," she says. "And good. Good night, Jackson."
I wave her goodbye, and walk Jackson into his room. "I-I'm sorry," I say, scrunching up my face. "I didn't know she was gonna do that. I feel like we're 12."
He laughs. "It's okay. I get it, you guys are religious."
I give him a look. "Well, I… I used to be a lot more," I say. "I don't know how I am now. It's not exactly easy to figure out."
"It's okay," he says. "C'mere. Goodnight kiss."
"You know," I say, nudging his door most of the way closed with my hip. "If you wait like, an hour or so, everyone will be asleep. And you can come to my room."
He raises his eyebrows. "Oh, planning a little sneaking around, are we?"
"Mm-hmm," I say. "I was hoping, at least. If you want. I mean, you don't have to. If you're tired-"
"I'm not tired at all," he says.
I smile. "I just feel like I barely got you to myself today," I say.
"I know," he says, tracing the skin along the small of my back. "What's it like having to share me with your sisters?"
"Horrible," I say.
"Duckie?" I hear. "Duckie?" It's Kimmie.
"One second," I say, pulling away from Jackson. "Coming." I look over my shoulder at him as I leave the room. "One hour," I say quietly, and he gives me a nod.
I find Kimmie in the hallway and kill a spider that she couldn't kill herself, then retire to my own room. I get into my pajamas, which are a pair of soft pink shorts and a long-sleeved white top, and braid my hair to one side. I flop down sideways on my bed, my head hanging over, and hum whatever comes to mind, which isn't really much of anything.
The whole house feels silent and asleep. I don't know why I told him an hour; I don't know if I can wait that long. But I have to. I really hope he doesn't fall asleep. If he does, I definitely don't have anything against going in there and waking him up.
I get up from my bed and go over to sit on the window seat that overlooks the backyard. I can see the barn from here, which is a view I've always liked. When I was really little, I used to sit here and sing. And when I got a little older, I'd sit here and read all afternoon. I have a lot of good memories in this little cushioned seat. I find myself still able to relax here, so I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes for a while, only disturbed when I hear my doorknob move.
I lift my head up and see Jackson sneaking in, which makes me smile. "I didn't wake you up, did I?" he asks.
"No," I say, standing up and walking over to lock my door behind him. "I was just resting my eyes."
He looks around the dimly-lit room, nodding as he takes in the posters on my wall. "I didn't know you were this big of a Taylor fan," he says.
"Kind of," I say.
He sits down on my bed. "The multiple posters in here along with your two at school say you're more than 'kind of' a fan," he says.
"I like her, so what," I say, flopping down with my head near all my pillows at the top.
"And what are all these pillows for?" he asks, tossing a few decorative ones off. "You snuggle with all these at night?"
"No," I say, smacking him with one of them.
"Ow, that one was hard," he says.
"They're for show," I say. "They make my bed look nice."
"For who?" he says, crawling over me to plant his hands on either side of my head. "Who were you trying to impress with this fancy-ass bed? Have something you wanna tell me?"
I giggle, my chin pressed to my chest. "No," I say. "You know you're the only boy who's ever been in my bed."
He kisses the round of my cheek as I smile, and says, "I do know that."
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and run my fingers down his back. "Why do you like that so much?" I ask.
"I don't know," he says. "I just do."
"You're funny," I say, and he lowers his body weight down on top of me, then kisses my lips. I welcome him hungrily, having not kissed him for the better part of the day, and hug him close as I do so. "I missed you today."
"Even though we barely spent a minute apart," he says.
"Yeah," I say, holding the sides of his neck. "But I couldn't kiss you."
He plants a big one on my mouth, which makes me laugh. "What would your parents do?" he asked. "If we just started making out in front of them?"
"Oh, god," I say. "Probably freak out. I don't even wanna know. That's why…" I place a finger over his lips. "We're being quiet. And secret."
He chuckles, pulling away only to look down at my mouth. "I wanna kiss you for like, ten hours," he says.
"So do it," I say with a smile.
He kisses me again again, opening his mouth and slipping his tongue inside. As our lips are pressed together, I skim my hands beneath his shirt and trail my nails up his sides, which gives him goosebumps that I can feel. I pull his shirt up as I go and eventually slip it off over his head and throw it to the side so I can have full access to his bare top half, which is what I'd been going for.
"I feel exposed," he says. "Only way to fix that is for you to take yours off, too."
"Fine," I say. "Get off me, then I can." I pat his shoulder, and he rolls to the side so I can sit up and pull my shirt off. And because I'm in pajamas, I have no bra on underneath.
"That's better," he says, and kisses a path from my throat all the way down between my breasts. With a grin, he holds one of them in his hands and covers the nipple with his tongue, which makes my hips writhe underneath his weight.
"Mm," I moan softly, and he grips me tighter. His other hand wanders my torso until it gets to the waist of my shorts, which he traces with one finger. "Jackson, can we…?"
He picks his head up, but keeps his hands where they are. "What?" he says.
"I wanna have sex," I say.
He looks shocked. "You do?" he asks.
"Yeah," I say, now finding it hard to meet his eyes, so I stare at his toned chest. "Why do you sound so surprised?"
"I-I thought…" he begins. "You only wanted to because we wanted to convince them that we're legit. So we'd have that bond. I didn't think you'd want to do it again."
I lift my eyes to his and trail my fingers down his cheek. "Well, I do," I say. "It felt good, and I wanna be with you again. Like that."
He studies me for a while, then one side of his mouth pulls up in a grin. "Okay," he says, and goes for my lips again. After kissing me for a while, he pulls up and says, "Shit. I didn't bring any condoms."
"Oh," I say, eyes darting everywhere in search of a solution. "I-um… you could… pull out?"
"I could pull out," he repeats. "Good idea."
"I'm full of them," I say, pushing my hands beneath the waist of his pajama pants. Once his pants are off, I can feel his hard-on pressing against me, and I pull my lower lip between my teeth as it nudges my thigh. "Take my pants off," I breathe.
He doesn't waste time. In one fell swoop, he gets me out of both my shorts and my underwear, and I can feel the tip of his penis just touching my entrance, waiting for the go-ahead. I reach around to hold his hips and nudge them forward, and he knows what I mean without me having to say it.
"I'll go slow," he says. "But it should feel better for you this time."
He pushes inside me and my inner muscles widen to accommodate his impressive size, and I bow one of my knees out to help with that, too. Once he's completely in, he wraps his arms around my lower back and showers my torso and chest in wet, open-mouthed kisses.
"You feel so good," he says. "God, you feel so good."
I let out a few shaky breaths as I lie there with my back arched, mouth open. When he pumps his hips for the first time, sparks light up behind my eyelids and a desperate little whimper comes out of me involuntarily. "Jackson," I breathe. "Oh, my god."
He finds a rhythm that's slow but steady, and I hear my breathing become ragged as his hands explore my body. When he changes up the angle a little bit, scooping his hips as he thrusts, something lights up in my center. "Yes!" I exclaim, smacking a flat hand on his chest.
"Shh…" he says, stealing the sound from my mouth by pressing his lips against mine. "Your family."
I can feel my forehead crinkle with concentration. "It's right there… you were right there…" I say.
"Here?" he says, and hits the same spot again.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," I moan, and he kisses me again as he keeps hitting that same spot. I wasn't sure if he could make me feel the same way as he did with his mouth on me, but it feels a lot like that. I think I'm about to have an orgasm, and I know I'm right when I feel my hips and pelvis start to jerk and twitch beyond my control. "I'm coming," I say. "Jackson, I'm coming. I'm coming."
He smiles and my eyelids flutter closed, half-lidded while it happens. I'm still experiencing the aftermath of mine when his starts, and he pulls out before anything can get inside me. Instead, hot liquid spurts onto my stomach, and I open my eyes so I can look at it. I've never seen it before, so I was curious, and there's a lot of it.
"I'll get that," he says, chest heaving. "Just… give me a minute." He hangs his head and breathes deeply, so I reach to my nightstand while trying to keep my stomach level, coming back with a handful of tissues in my hand. "I'll do it," he says, as I've started to wipe it up. "You don't have to."
Once it's all cleaned up, I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. "I like condoms better," I say.
"I know," he says. "I knew you wouldn't like the mess, I-"
"No," I say. "That's not it. I like feeling you come inside me."
He stares at me for a long moment, then smiles and kisses me - long and slow. He moves down from my lips to my chest, then to my bellybutton, then between my open legs that are spread just wide enough to welcome his body. He gives me another orgasm with his mouth, and as I come he has to clap a hand over my mouth so I won't cry out. I can't help it - the way he makes my body feel is incomparable. I feel like an entirely different person when he's with me. I feel like the presence I take up here in life is valid and worthy; he makes me see myself for what I really am. No one's ever done that for me before.
When he comes back up to rest his head next to mine on the pillow, I drag my fingertips down the outside of his arm and swing one leg over his. "I don't want you to go," I say. "I want you to sleep here next to me."
"I know," he says, nuzzling his nose against the tip of mine. "I won't be used to being in a bed by myself. I've been sleeping next to my piano girl for so long."
I smile softly.
"What if I set an alarm," he says. "So I'll get up and go to the guest room at like, 4:30. Since your dad probably wakes up super early for all the farm shit. Does that work?"
I nod and say, "That works." I flip over to my other side and he presses himself close so he can spoon me from behind, circling an arm around my waist to hold me tight. As I'm closing my eyes, he presses his lips to the back of my head and shoulders, and I don't think it's possible for me to feel any better than I do right now.
Even though my eyes are closed, he falls asleep first. I drag my fingernails up and down his arm to soothe him, and he twitches against my back as his breath puffs softly against my hair. As he slips further and further away, I lift his hand and hug his arm closer, keeping it that way for the night.
As I lie there, loving the feeling of his body wrapped around me, a terrifying realization hits me. I have feelings for him. I have real feelings for him.