JACKSON
April doesn't look back as we peel out of the gravel driveway, and I don't either. The reason I keep my eyes on the road is because I'd rather not know before I get hit in the back of the head with a bullet from her dad's shotgun, if he's out there. But I think her reason has more to do with looking forward into the future for the first time in her life.
The adrenaline doesn't stop coursing through my veins, but it does slow down as we get further and further away. Neither of us says anything. I keep a strong grip on the wheel and a lead foot on the gas pedal, grateful that I'm still alive and breathing. I didn't know what I was going to do if her dad had come out. Or even worse, her mom.
April stares straight ahead, eyes nearly bugging out. I glance over every now and then as we create more distance between ourselves and the farm, and she doesn't even move. I don't so much as see her chest rising and falling.
I leave her be for a while, though. She needs a moment to be alone with her thoughts, to process what just happened, without my two cents added. I leave the silence between us as it is and focus on the road, listening to my own thoughts swarm inside my brain.
I leave the situation alone until I can't take it anymore. In the dead of night illuminated by a sky full of stars, I pull the car over to the shoulder and shift it into park. I sigh softly, relax against the back of the seat, then look over at her.
She looks over, too, slowly. Her lips are parted slightly, her skin is pale - almost luminous in the ethereal light of the moon, and her eyes are flooded with feeling.
"Do you want this?" I ask, breaking the trembling string of tense silence between us. "Do you really want this?"
She closes her mouth, pressing her lips together. Her eyes dart all over my face for a split second before she unbuckles quickly, leans across the console, and grabs my head to kiss me with power I had no idea she possessed.
I kiss her like it's been years since I last tasted her mouth. I crush my lips to hers and she does the same, both of us ignoring the sparks of pain as our teeth clash. We don't care how sloppy or clumsy our hands and lips get, all that matters is that we were both alone for too long, and that doesn't have to be the case anymore.
We break apart after kissing for a long, long time. The car windows fog up and our skin gets dewy, and as I'm looking at her face, I draw a line across her cheekbone across the bridge of her nose. I trace the sporadic freckles and close the distance between us again, shutting my eyes to get lost in the way she tastes and feels. I want to take her, consume her, conserve everything she is. I want to protect her from the world while at the same time showing her everything beautiful it has to offer.
I take her bottom lip in my mouth and suck on it, holding the back of her head as she holds mine. I move to her cheeks and then her neck, hands drifting lower too, and then just hug her. I press my face against her chest and hold her with all my might, having never been more grateful that she's right here in front of me.
"I love you," I say, fingertips digging in. "God, I love you."
As her chest trembles, I realize she's crying. When I pick my head up, she's wiping at her eyes with one hand and using the other to cup my jaw, stroking my skin with her thumb. As she sniffles, I lean forward and kiss the tears off her cheeks.
"What?" I say, nuzzling her nose. "What's wrong?"
She hiccups and tries to catch her breath. When she finally does, she shakes her head and says, "I'm free."
…
After we start driving again, April falls asleep and she falls asleep hard. Her head lolls to one side, her mouth drops open, and she doesn't even stir whenever we hit potholes and bumps.
I don't let go of her hand, either. I take the left one in my right and keep a good grip on her fingers, stroking her skin as a reminder that she's next to me. When I glance over at her vulnerable, sleeping face, my chest floods with so much warmth and affection that I can barely stand it.
She sleeps for the entire two-hour drive. I can't imagine how tired she must be - mentally, emotionally and physically. She needs the rest and she deserves it, so I don't do anything to disturb her.
I do a lot of thinking, though. When I pulled up in that driveway and she came running out, I felt like my heart was going to burst from my chest. The look on her face told me everything I needed to know - she was a prisoner, and she had already resigned to a lifestyle as such. She'd gotten her hopes dashed enough times to be wary of putting herself out there again, and the fact that I was standing in front of her, ready to take her away, was a shock. She didn't expect to be rescued, but I never planned on leaving her there.
When I left initially, I was fucking distraught. In the car on the way back with my mom, I was beside myself and wouldn't listen to anything she had to say. It's not like she was trying to preach my ear off or anything, but I didn't want to be subjected to any comforting words or advice. I had descended into a place that those things couldn't get me out of. I needed to take action, make something happen, and I needed April. There was no way I could let her live out her life at that farm, marry Matthew and have his Hulk-sized children. At the time, I wasn't sure what I could do, but I told myself it had to be something.
I spend days locked in my room, not coming out for anything. I cried a lot, and the tears were angry over anything. I was angry that I lost her, angry that we were so stupid and careless - we had gotten lazy with hiding our relationship. It got too easy to slip up. I was angry at the fact that she probably thought I was never coming back, because even though I promised her, I knew how she would see it. She'd been taught to quickly resign, to be submissive to life, while I've been taught the opposite. And that was the reason I burst out of my room with an idea and a mission that I knew my mom would approve of.
We made the decision that April and I would stay at the lake house for a while until we could get things figured out. There's still no way we'd be safe in Chicago, and the last thing I want is to take her someplace where she feels afraid. I want her to feel free, to feel comfortable in a place she can live in the open and experience life the way a normal 18-year-old should. And the lake house is a perfect place for that.
She's still sleeping when we pull up in the driveway, and after I park the car, I just watch her for a while. Her chest rises and falls subtly, but other than that her body doesn't move at all. I smile to myself and lean to kiss her forehead - hoping to wake her - but she still doesn't budge.
I let go of her hand and walk around to the passenger's side door, and open it slowly. Still, she doesn't move. I reach across her body and unbuckle her seatbelt, then with one swift movement, lift her into my arms to cradle her close on our way inside. I try my best to reach for my keys with April's body in my arms, but the door comes open before I can do something stupid like drop her.
"You made it," Mom says, meeting us in the doorway. "Oh, good gracious. Would you just look at her."
"She was asleep the whole way here," I whisper, walking inside carefully. With her eyes still closed, April presses her head closer to my chest and nuzzles against me, face scrunching as she comes closer to consciousness.
"She must be exhausted," Mom says, touching her red hair gently. "Bless her heart."
"Yeah," I say, looking down at my girlfriend's serene face.
"Did they give you trouble?" she asks, referencing the Kepners I'm assuming.
I shake my head and adjust the way I'm holding April. "They don't know," I say. "No one came out. I think she got to say goodbye to Alice, but that was it. She snuck out."
"Lord," Mom says, sighing deeply. "We're just going to have to figure that out in the morning. You two should head up to bed. It's been a long night. Where's her bag?"
I shrug one shoulder. "She doesn't have one."
Mom lets her eyes trail over April's body - donned in an old nightgown and no shoes. The look in her eyes says it all, she came here with literally only the clothes on her back and a heart full of hope.
"We'll get that squared away tomorrow then, too," she says, then kisses my cheek. "You're a good man, Jackson."
"Thanks," I say, offering a small smile before walking up the stairs with April's limp body in my grasp.
When I get to my bedroom, I push open the door with my back and gently deposit her on the bed. I retreat to the bathroom to get myself ready for bed, and when I come out after brushing my teeth, washing my face and changing into pajamas, she's sitting up on the mattress looking pretty disoriented.
"Hey," I say softly, stepping over. "We're at the lake house."
She rubs her eyes and looks around while blinking slow and hard. Her eyebrows furrow before she yawns, and she stretches her arms high over her head before letting them fall back down to her sides with a thump.
"Are you gonna come lay down?" she asks, scooting further back on mattress. She lies on her side and watches me, eyes still bleary.
"Of course," I say, then flick off the dim light and join her in bed.
It's an indescribable feeling, having her next to me under the covers again, and I feel like my heart might explode. Her face is so close to mine that I can see every detail - from the way her eyelashes curl to the soft, invisible peach fuzz on her cheeks.
She gravitates closer as soon as I lie down, wrapping her arms around my neck and throwing one leg over my waist. I smile softly and hold her thigh, stroking her skin with my thumb, and kiss her slow and smooth on the lips.
"Jackson," she says, messing with the hair at the nape of my neck. "I love you."
"I love you, too," I respond, meaning it wholeheartedly.
"And thank you," she continues, then shakes her head. "I never thought… I didn't…"
"I know," I say, then hitch her leg a little higher. I want her as close as I can get her. "But you're here now."
"Yeah," she says. "And you are, too."
I smile and kiss her again, even longer this time. When we pull away, she's grinning so hard that it crinkles her eyes and lights up her features. Her face is so open and free right now, there's not a single worry or bad thought in my head. All I'm thinking about is April and the fact that she's mine.
"Let's…" she begins, but then falters. "Can we…?" she attempts, but falls off again.
"What, kitty?" I say, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear.
She licks her lower lip and her eyes can't find a place to land on my face. As they dart around, her eyelashes flutter in their graceful way and I can't help but smile. I know exactly what she's thinking, but I didn't want to be the one to ask because I didn't want it to seem like I was forcing her into anything.
"You know…" she says, her voice sounding all coy.
"What?" I prompt again, teasing her with my eyes.
Her expression turns pouty as she pushes her lips out and moves her head around. "Jackson…" she whines. "You know what I mean."
"Yeah," I say, touching the tip of my nose to hers. "But I want you to say it."
"Why…" she trails off, dragging one hand down my chest and tearing her eyes away from mine.
"'Cause I like hearing you say it," I tell her.
She huffs and looks back up. "Can we have sex?" she asks, quietly.
I laugh and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling our torsos flush together. "Geez, kitty, of course. Why didn't you ask sooner?"
She giggles and rolls onto her back, looking up at me with a crinkly neck and a chin pressed to her chest. "You're teasing me," she says, a giggle in her tone as I prop myself on an elbow to look at her.
"I like seeing you laugh," I say, and kiss her. I initially meant for it to be a quick peck, but when I go to pull away, she keeps me there with two hands on the back of my head. I don't try and move anywhere, though. This is exactly where I want to be.
I let one hand find its way to her thigh, where the skirt of the nightgown has ridden up. I slip beneath it, past the fluttery material, and flatten my palm over her hip. I massage her skin with my fingers while I move lower and suck on her neck, and she rewards me with a few drawn-out, salacious moans.
When I get my mouth on the place that makes her crazy, her breath pauses and she tenses before fumbling for my hand that's on her waist. When she finds it, she directs it between her legs and presses it there with firm fingers, and I smile against her skin. She's done playing, beating around the bush. She's ready to tell me what she wants, and I'm ready to give it to her.
"Remember the first time," I say, lips moving against her beating pulse while I slip inside her underwear. As usual, she's damp and hot - ready to be touched. Ready for me to touch her. "When I first did this to you?"
She nods, a loud breath coming from her nose while she looks me dead in the eyes. "It felt…." she closes her eyes for a second as I push two fingers in without warning - slowly, but with confidence. I insert them as deep as they'll go, and it takes her a moment to regain her footing and catch her breath. "I never knew I could feel like that," she finishes.
"Mm-hmm," I say, drawing lazy circles with my fingertips.
"You changed me," she breathes, widening her legs. "You really did."
I smile softly and press my face in the open space between her shoulder and neck. I love the way she smells there - all warm and intimate. I wish I could bottle it and keep it for when we're apart - though hopefully that won't be very often anymore.
"You changed me, too," I say. "You don't even know how much. I think different now."
"You… think different," she sighs, lifting the small of her back as I hit that light-up spot inside her. "Oh, god."
I kiss the corner of her jaw and switch up my rhythm, going faster instead of slow and steady. Her mouth falls open for a moment before she closes her lips again and drags her teeth over the lower one, eyebrows pressed together under the concentrated wrinkles on her forehead.
"I don't think stupid anymore," I say.
"You were never… stupid," she says.
Her eyes shoot open when my thumb finds her clit and presses on it deftly, and I don't resist the urge to lean forward and kiss the soft inside of her thigh. She's exquisite - laid out bare and perfect for me, no holds barred. I use my free hand to slide inside the front of my pants and maneuver my dick out of my underwear, then stroke it in time to how I'm stroking her.
"I acted stupid," I say, adjusting so I have a better angle. I want to get my mouth on her, so I work on situating our bodies so I can. "I acted fuckin' stupid all the time."
I slip my hand out of her for a brief moment, and she opens her eyes with curiosity. She takes a breath to ask what I'm doing, but realizes that as I'm bending her knees and lying down between them, I'm positioning myself to eat her out. As it dawns on her, she relaxes and gets comfortable, settles in, and I can't help but smile. It really is her favorite thing.
I kiss those lips that won't kiss back and her hips rise to meet me. I keep one arm straight along her lower belly to prevent her from moving too much, and lick my lips before touching her again. I move my head vigorously and close my eyes while burying myself in her heat, my nose nudging the most sensitive part, and she holds the back of my neck with both hands - determined to not let me escape. As if I'd try.
I move my jaw roughly and forcefully, listening to her whine and whimper in response. The pitch of her voice is desperate and the movement of her hips is even more so, and when I look up I see that she has both hands on her breasts over the fabric of her nightgown.
"You wanna get there?" I ask, voice falling into her body as my lips move against her wet heat.
"Yeah," she whines. "Yeah… yes, please."
I smile deviously and push harder against her, shaking my head from side to side while she comes undone and screams at the top of her lungs. Her voice breaks at the top and I laugh to myself wondering what my mother must be thinking downstairs, but I don't think about that for very long. Instead, I focus on cleaning up the clear liquid seeping from inside April, slipping over her swollen lips and the swell of her ass. I open my mouth wide and clean it up while she jerks and twitches above me, trying her best to catch her breath. I'm not sure how well that's going.
When she's as clean as possible, I kiss my way up her body and disappear beneath the nightgown she's still wearing. It billows around my head as I kiss her stomach, her ribcage, the flat space in the middle of her chest - and when I turn my head to bite the round underside of her left breast, she giggles and holds my head over the fabric.
"What're you doing?" she asks.
"Kissing you," I say.
"You're inside my dress," she says, still laughing softly.
"Mmm…" I hum. "I realize that. It'd be better if you'd just take it off."
I inch out and watch as she pulls it over her head in one fell swoop. It messes up her hair so the curls are frizzy and standing up every which way, but she either doesn't notice or doesn't care as she tosses the garment to the floor.
"Jackson," she says, sitting with her legs crossed in front of her. She sits so casually, yet she's completely naked. If anyone's come a long ways between us, she has.
"What's up, babe," I say, working out of my clothes. I stand up to step out of my pants, and sit back down once they're off. My erection stands on full display, so hard that it touches my stomach, but I try not to focus on it so I can listen to her.
She's got her eyes on it, though. She chews on the inside of her cheek and stares, and if I were anyone else I might feel self-conscious. But I know how well-endowed I am, so I don't mind that she's looking. I'm proud of what I have.
"You…" she says, then swallows hard. "The whole time we've been together, you've given me…" She swallows again. "You've done oral sex on me, and I never have on you."
I shoot her a half-smile. "It's not a race," I say. "You're new at all this. I don't expect shit from you, kitty."
"I-I know," she says. "That's not what I mean. I mean… I think I want to. I kind of want to… um, touch you… with my mouth? If that would be okay?"
I raise my eyebrows and try not to seem shocked - I don't want to put her off or scare her. "God, of course that would be… yeah," I say, then clear my throat. "Um, you're sure?"
She nods. "I just don't really know how?" she says, tone lilting at the end like a question.
"I can teach you," I say. "Uh, here. Why don't you kneel on the ground. Are you okay with being on your knees? On the ground?"
"If that's where you want me," she says, scooting off the bed in all her naked glory.
She crosses her arms over her chest when she stands, and just looks at me for a moment before sinking onto her knees. I've moved to the edge of the bed, sitting there with spread legs and an erection to end all others. I can't believe she's about to suck me off; I've thought about this so much. I probably won't last more than a minute.
She puts one hand on either of my legs, and electricity surges through me from that action alone. Her thumbs trail through the curly hair on my thighs while she waits for instruction, and when I look down I see there's already a bead of pre-come on the tip. That's a little embarrassing, seeing as she hasn't even touched me yet.
"Uh, so…" I begin. "The whole thing isn't gonna fit in your mouth-"
"Is that bad?" she asks.
"No," I say, shaking my head.
"Is it because it's big?" she says.
I smile, which lightens the mood a bit. "Pretty much, yeah," I say. "I don't wanna gag you."
"Okay," she says, continuing to move her fingers on my legs.
"So, you can use your hand on the bottom part of the shaft," I say, mimicking the motion she should do. "And pump it. And you can take the head in your mouth and just kinda treat it like an ice cream cone. Anything you do is gonna feel good, I promise."
"What if I'm not good?" she asks, adjusting on her knees. "What if I'm bad?"
"You won't be bad," I say, reaching to push a piece of hair out of her eyes. "I'm not gonna last long, no matter what you do. You got me so turned on already, kitty."
She smiles shyly and blinks a few times, then stares at my penis that's right in front of her face. She licks her lips, takes a deep breath, then covers the head of my dick with her mouth while keeping steady eye contact with me.
I close my eyes right away, unable to wrap my head around the feeling of her mouth on me. I've always thought about what head from her would be like, but now that it's actually happening I can't control myself. I reach around to the back of her head and hold it gently - I don't force her forward at all - and she flattens her tongue around the underside of it while trying to go as deep as she can.
I watch her face turn red, then her eyes bulge when she goes a little too far. She pulls off, coughing and gasping for breath, holding her chest with one hand.
"Sorry," she says, looking self-conscious as she wipes her mouth. "It hit… I choked."
"You okay?" I ask, thumbing away some stray spit from her cheek.
"Yeah," she says. "Can I keep… do I keep going?"
"If you want," I say. "You don't have to, if that bothered you."
"I'm fine," she says. "Can I try again?"
"Go ahead," I say, keeping my hands at my sides on purpose. I don't want to make her feel like I forced her to go too deep.
"You can put your hand back," she says, reading my mind. Her breath falls onto my dick and it twitches, and she watches while it does. "I liked it."
"Alright," I say, then replace my hand where it was.
She puts her mouth on me again and doesn't try and go too far. She concentrates on the head, the most sensitive part, and swirls her tongue around it slow and languid. I'm blissed out; I let my head fall back and I tighten my fist in her hair, and before long - even though she doesn't quite know what to do yet and her motions are repetitive - the muscles in my groin tighten and I know I'm gonna blow soon.
"You don't have to swallow," I say. "You can just… just pull off. But can you pump that fist? Spit on it, and-and pump. I'm close, kitty."
"What?" she says, pulling off and making me lose my momentum.
I look down after opening my eyes, only one thing in mind. I grab her free hand, spit on the palm, and put it back on the shaft. "Just pump it," I say. "Fast, and harder than you think. With your mouth on the head like you had it."
She obeys and does both at the same time, and by doing so, works me back up to the same point again. I feel my features pinch as I get close to the edge, and when I'm about to fall over it, I look down and warn her.
"I'm gonna come," I grunt, and she pulls away just as the hot, white-clear liquid spurts out of my dick. It lands on her chin, chest, and shoulders, and keeps coming until I'm spent and completely wasted of energy. "Fuck," I breathe.
She blinks hard, hands away from her body, unsure of what to do with herself. I watch her for a moment, still foggy, and try to come back to earth to clean up what I did.
"I didn't mean to get bossy with you," I say, suddenly conscious of what I was like. "I'm sorry if that was fucked up."
She shakes her head, and by her expression I can tell she isn't bothered, isn't trying to cover anything up. "I didn't mind," she says, then puffs her chest out proudly. "I got you off. Right?"
"Yeah, you did," I say. "And it's all over you, babe. So, let me grab a towel."
I walk into the bathroom and she stays where she is. From the floor, she calls and asks, "What does it taste like?"
I come back into the room, towel in hand and a confused expression on my face. "Uh, I don't know," I say.
"You get to know what I taste like," she says. "I kind of wanted to know what you…" She looks down at what's left on her chest, then drags one finger through it. Surprising me, she sticks it in her mouth and sucks off the come I left, taking her sweet time while she does.
"Well, fuck," I say, shocked.
She pulls her finger out and sits there while I clean her off. "It was like… kind of sweet? Maybe a little salty?"
I frown a little and make sure there's none left on her skin. I don't want her getting any more ideas.
"It was runny, like an egg," she says.
"Okay, kitty," I say, shaking my head and laughing. "I get it."
"It wasn't bad!" she says, and complies when I pull her up on the bed by her armpits. "I wanna try and swallow next time."
My dick twitches, hearing her say that. Maybe this talk isn't so gross after all.
"I'd be down," I say, then lie next to her, hold her face, and kiss her. We make out for a long time, our legs weaving through each other, and I hold her body tight. I love all of its curves and slopes, and I want to memorize everything about it. Hopefully, one day, I will.
When her hips start to move in a specific rhythm against my thigh, I know she's back at her peak again. "You wanna fuck?" I ask, pressing my lips to hers for a long time before pulling away for a breath.
She snorts with laughter.
"What?" I say.
"You're so crude," she says, trailing each of her pointer fingers over my cheeks. "When you say stuff like that. So crass."
"What," I say, nuzzling the apple of her cheek. "It's fucking. That's what it's called."
"It's called making love," she says.
"Alright, sap," I say, but my heart flutters when she says it. I know she's right, I just like getting her goat.
"It is," she insists. "It's more than just…" She raises her eyebrows in insinuation of the word.
"Than what?" I ask.
"You know," she says, eyes wide. "What you said."
"What did I say?"
"Jackson," she says, with an eye-roll.
"I forgot," I say. "Remind me. What was the word I used?"
She shakes her head, pursing her lips with determination. There's a laugh in her eyes, though, and I want to set it free.
"Come on, kitty," I say, digging my fingers into her side to tickle her. "Just say it. One time, come on. I just wanna hear you say it once."
"No!" she laugh-shouts, throwing her head back as I move to her armpits. "You can't make me!"
"I bet I can," I say, gobbling at her neck with my lips over my teeth while still attacking her body with tickling hands. "Say it. Say it, kitty, or I won't stop."
She can't breathe, she's laughing so hard. I'm tickling her in every ticklish spot imaginable, from the bends of her knees to the dip of her waist. And with my mouth on her neck, she's a lost cause.
"Fine!" she finally says, laughter tears streaming down her face. "Fine."
"So…?" I say, raising my eyebrows.
In the quietest whisper she can manage, she gets close to my face and says, "Fuck."
I burst out laughing, then, and she does, too. I pull her close and kiss her heartily on the mouth, holding the back of her head while I do, and keep her close with one leg thrown over both of hers.
"You swore," I say, teasing her after we pull apart.
"You made me," she says, lips pinched to fight a smile. "Sinner."
I laugh with my mouth closed and ghost my lips over hers. While we kiss some more, I use one hand to manipulate her hips and open her legs so I can push inside her without either of us having to change positions.
When my body moves inside hers, the reunification is palpable. We cling to each other and she opens her mouth on my shoulder, digging her teeth in as I go as deep as I can. I bury my face in her neck and lick her sweaty skin, making sure the rhythm of my hips is slow, thorough, and steady. I want her to feel everything and more.
She wraps her arms around me and shudders, and the softest of whimpers comes right next to my ear; I wouldn't have caught it had she not been so close. She throws one leg around me and digs her heel into the back of my thigh, and I return the favor and sink my nails into the small of her back, hoping to leave marks behind.
"Oh," she moans, body rocking from the way I'm pounding into her. "Mmm… I feel it… Jackson, it's…"
She loses her breath, but I know what's about to happen. She doesn't have to say anything more. I scoop my hips upwards and try to hit her g-spot, and whatever I do must work because she holds me tighter than before and all of her muscles get tense as she does. She wraps her body around mine like some sort of strong ass vine, and says 'yes' about fifteen times before she finally lets her muscles relax.
She strokes my face while I work up to my own orgasm, staring at me like I'm made of gold. No one's ever looked at me that way before. Her eyes are soft and melted, absolutely enamored, and I hope she knows that I feel the same way about her.
"I love you," I say, crushing my lips to hers in a hot, searing kiss as my orgasm starts. "Mmm, fuck, April. I love you."
"I love you, too," she says, both hands flat on my ass.
I buck against her, emptying my load inside her, and she lets her mouth fall open. I try and kiss her but miss, and end up with my lips and teeth on her chin, but I don't bother to move. I just go lower and bite at her throat, and we spend a while lazily touching each other while our respective orgasms fade away and the exhaustion starts.
Lying there with her, I have no desire to clean up. I'm bone-tired now, and so is she. We're sticky from sweat and what we did together, but neither of us care.
My mind is almost blank with her in my arms, but not quite. I have one thing left to say.
"Baby," I say, weaving my fingers through her hair.
"Hmm," she says softly, eyes closed.
"You know what I said earlier, about how I used to act stupid?" I say.
She nods, drawing loopy circles over my bare side with her fingernail. It gives me chills.
"I'm never gonna act stupid with you," I say, holding her head with both hands. I kiss her forehead slowly and surely. "I promise."
…
In the morning, I'm surprised to find that I wake up before April. She's still close me, lying on her side while I'm on my back, face turned up with her cheek on my chest. She's sleeping sound and deep; I come to the conclusion that it must be nice not to have any obligations to think about. This is probably the first time that she's been allowed to sleep in, devoid of any worries.
I stroke her forehead with the tip of my pointer finger as softly as I can. I don't want to wake her, I want her to sleep, but at the same time I miss her eyes. And her smile, now that I think about it. How stupid is it to miss someone when they're only sleeping? I've definitely never felt anything like that before.
I hear footsteps on the stairs only a few moments later and know, without a doubt, that they're my mother's. I expect her to walk by my closed bedroom door and head down the hallway, but she does no such thing. Instead, before I can even react, the door comes open and she appears inside it with a smile on her face.
"Good morning, sunshines," she says, seemingly unfazed that her son and his girlfriend are naked together in bed, barely covered by the sheets.
"Mom, Jesus," I hiss, and the sound of my voice wakes April.
She comes to the surface slow at first, blinking close to my face with a gentle, sleepy smile. But then, she notices my mother and devolves into full freak-out mode.
"Oh, gosh!" she says, scrambling to cover her chest. But by doing so, the sheets fall down further and she exposes herself more than how she'd been originally. "Oh, my gosh. Catherine, I… I'm so sorry, I can go… I can go away…"
"Why would you do that?" Mom asks. "It looks like you were having a nice rest. I just came in to say good morning. It's almost 10, so I thought I'd get you two lovebirds up and at 'em. We have a lot to discuss."
April sits there, spine stiff as a board, clutching the blanket as close as she can. I stay lying down, eyes lazy on my mother, fingernails casually scratching my girlfriend's bare back right beside me.
"Cool," I say, then nod towards the door. "We'll be down. Can you just give us a sec, please?"
"Gladly," she says. "Put yourself together. But do not, by any means, start getting busy and keep me waiting."
April's whole top half blushes, but all I do is roll my eyes as the door closes. When it's fully shut, the sheet drops and I pull April back to my side, where she comes begrudgingly.
"How is she just…" she begins. "Okay with us sleeping together? She didn't even bat an eye. My mother would've…"
"Oh, I know what yours would do," I say, eyebrows up. "She already did it."
"Yeah," April grumbles.
"I don't know why my mom's so cool about it," I say. "She's a sex therapist, which has a lot to do with it. She lives and breathes sex. And it's not news to her that I'm active. We've had different versions of 'the talk' plenty of times."
"The talk?" she echoes.
"Yeah, the birds and the bees," I say. "Remember, like I taught you?"
"Oh," she says. "Right."
After a few minutes of cuddling and kissing, we get dressed and head downstairs. Breakfast is already on the table, and April and I sit next to each other with a plate of eggs and bacon each. Mom has apparently already finished, but has the newspaper in front of her, glasses resting on the tip of her nose.
"I'm sorry about earlier, Catherine," April says meekly, staring at her plate without picking up any utensils.
Mom sets the newspaper down and pushes her glasses up. "Child," she says. "Come here."
Dutifully, April pushes out her chair and walks over, probably assuming she's going to receive penance. But instead, Mom wraps her up in a huge hug that catches April off guard, making her stumble a few steps forward until she collapses into my mother's arms.
They hug for a long time. Long enough where it feels weird for me to still be watching, so I look away. When it's finally over, April is sniffling and wiping tears from her face, and Mom cradles her jaw and looks meaningfully into her eyes. She helps to dry the tears and gives April a firm kiss on the forehead, and I know exactly what she's thinking. It wasn't right for her to be starved of this kind of love for her whole life. These small actions seem like the world to April because she's been consistently given next to nothing.
"We've got you now," Mom says, very quietly. April nods, soaking in the words. "We're going to take good care of you, sweet girl."
"Thank you," April peeps, and sits next to me again. She tries to stop crying, and we give her a minute to compose herself.
"How are you doing?" Mom asks, once the emotions have calmed down. "How are you feeling?"
There's a long pause before April answers. I can practically feel her turning over the words and wondering what to say; I don't know what I would say if I were in her shoes.
"I feel free," she says, finally. Her voice is light and airy, not laden with any thick emotion. She means what she's saying. "It's scary, not knowing what's gonna happen in the future, but…" She shrugs and looks down at her lap. She had no choice but to put on the same nightgown from last night. "At least I know there is a future for me."
"Yes, there is," Mom says, reaching over to pat April's knee. "And that's exactly what I want to talk to you about."
We settle in and start eating while Mom dives into the conversation. She knows that April was homeschooled all her life and she also knows that she's extremely smart, but there are a lot of things that you can't learn at home, no matter how advanced you are. She says those things tend to pile up in senior year, so she thinks it would be wise for April to go through 12th grade at a real high school where she could not only catch up with curriculum, but learn social skills and meet other kids our age. Mom thinks it would be the perfect transition into 'real world' living, and I can't help but agree.
"Real school?" April says, wringing her hands. It's something she always does when she's nervous, I've noticed. "I… I've never even thought about that before."
"I have no doubt that you'd catch on in no time," Mom says. "We could send you right here in St. Joe, to Lakeshore High School. It'd be simple, really."
I rest a hand on April's thigh and look at her for a long moment. "What do you think, kitty baby?" I ask quietly, gearing the question only towards her and not towards the group.
She nods slowly at first, then more confidently. "I think it could be fun," she says. "I would be normal for the first time in my life."
I smile hearing her sound excited over something so mundane. Public school is something that everday kids take for granted - most of them fucking dread it. But here she is, excited over the concept alone.
"What about you?" April asks, prompting me.
I open my mouth to answer, but my mom gets there first. "He has a decision to make," she cuts in. "University of Michigan, or UPenn?"
Instantly, frustration ripples through my body at the fact that she doesn't let me think for myself. Of course, I've been getting the emails and calls from all the schools I was accepted to. My first choice was Northwestern in Chicago, but when I found out there was no way I could go back to the city, I gave that thought up. I had to give up U Chicago and UIC, too, both of which I was disappointed over. When I got close with April, though, she gave me hope again. Hope that a future could exist without the school of my dreams, it would just have to take a different route.
But other schools are still trying to get in touch with me, too. As made obvious by what my mother just said.
"Neither," I say, stubbornly.
"Jackson Avery, that's not an option," she refutes.
"Yes, it is," I say. "I'm an adult, and I can make choices for myself."
April takes the wrist of my hand that's resting on her leg and squeezes. I don't need words to know what she's trying to tell me: breathe.
"You're an Avery," my mother argues. "Averys don't take a year off. They go to college, then grad school, then they get their PhD. There's no way you won't follow that path. Absolutely no way."
"Well, maybe my path is different," I say. "I want to take a year off and be with April. What's supposed to happen, I'm just gonna go off to college and leave her here alone? What was the point of all this, then? No way. Not everyone has to-"
"Wait," April says, cutting into the conversation. "Where is the University of Michigan?"
"Ann Arbor," my mother answers, easily.
"And… are there high schools there?" April asks.
"I'm sure," Mom says, looking confused.
"So, it's easy," she says, pleased with herself. "I'll do my senior year there, and you can start as a freshman in college. We can go to school at the same time." She smiles, small at first and then wider. "Right?"
I look between my girlfriend and my mother, wondering how that idea could work. We could easily find an apartment off-campus, located between our two destinations. We could make it work - I have money and we could get jobs if we needed to. Sitting here at the kitchen table, I'm already imagining what our future will look like. I'm picturing it, and it's beautiful.
Mom shrugs and nods with approval.
"We could do it?" April asks again, eagerly.
An incredulous-sounding laugh escapes me as I take her hand and kiss it. After, I look at her and kiss her cheek, where I linger for a long moment.
"Yes," I say. "We can do this."