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People talk about Clara likes she’s a little girl, like she’s some cute little mascot. The boys don’t bother with her in that way, and they don’t talk to her using the crude terms they let fly in front of girls like Penny.
With Tatiana it’s the opposite. They treat her as a friend, but behind her back the boys shake their heads and say they wouldn’t lower themselves to be with her because she hastoomuch experience. Personally, I think they’re afraid of her experience, afraid she knows more than they do and therefore they couldn’t possibly measure up. I overheard Parker saying that he had no desire to go whereso many had gone before, but in truth, he’d never get the chance because Tatiana would never give any of those boys the time of day.
And then there’s Penny. They talk about her like she’s a joke. I overheard Logan one afternoon when I went down to meet Parker at the marina. I knew Penny had been with Logan but didn’t realize it was a regular thing. He laughed about her, called her sloppy and made some crack about herweak head skills, adding that he was surprised, given the fact that she’s sucked off half the guys in our grade. I laid into Parker once Logan and the rest of them left, but Parker just shrugged and put his hands up as if to say it was all on her.
Maybe it’s no easier on the boys. They act like they know so much, but Tatiana has me convinced that most of them got their limited education from watching porn online. She swears most of them are virgins but are too ashamed to admit it.
I’m suddenly curious and ask Parker, “Was that your first time, too?”
He looks genuinely sad as he averts his gaze and shakes his head. “No, but I wish that it was.”
“Who was your first?” When he hesitates, I reassure him, “I’m not mad or anything, just curious. I kind of figured you already...”
“Some girl at sailing camp. It was way before we started up.” He lifts the covers and gets back into bed, turning me so that my back is to his front before he wraps an arm around me. “And it was fast and rushed and lame compared to last night. I really do love you, Sarah.”
And the rite of passage I dismissed as outdated and laughable? I guess it’s more important than I was willing to admit, because his admission brings on a rush of emotion that feels like loss.
“Hey,” he whispers into my hair as he pulls me in closer, “are you crying?”
“No,” I say in a choked voice as I try to rein my emotions in.
“You are,” he says as he rolls me onto my back. “I hope you’re not regretting last night.”
“I’m not,” I try to reassure him, but it’s hard to speak past the lump in my throat. “I just...”
I just what? Don’t think I was ready? Don’t know why I’m such a freak?
“Something has been on your mind. You’ve been acting weirder than usual for the past couple of weeks.”
He gets out of bed and reaches down to grab his clothes from the floor. He’s punishing me now, in the subtle way that’s his custom.Weirder than usual. The dig isn’t lost on me. And even though I know I’m being insulted, he’s playing on my worst fears: to be viewed as different, peculiar, and therefore unlovable. I’m a smart girl but I can’t help it, I fall for it every time.
“I know, Parker. You’re right.”
My admission stops him in his tracks. And once Parker sees the tears making a hot path down my cheeks, he drops the clothes and crawls back in beside me. “What’s going on?”
I proceed to lay out the last six weeks’ worth of sadness and frustration for him, hiccuping through this ugly cry that goes on and on. I tell him about the blunt force trauma I endured in that science class, my pathetic detective work, and my inability to confront my parents. It’s a full ten or fifteen minutes before I pause, and once I catch my breath, I have to admit that I feel lighter in some way, better.
He grabs an undershirt from a drawer in his nightstand and proceeds to wipe my face. “That’s a lot to take in. I wish you would have told me.”
“Every time I’ve tried to talk about it, I just can’t get the words out.”
“But now I know, so I can help you through it.”
“Thanks.” I truly am thankful to Parker, thankful for the genuine concern in his eyes.
“I mean it. Talk to me. I’m a good listener.”
“I think I’m talked out for the moment. Just getting that off my chest feels so much better, really.”
He shifts me down on the bed so we’re no longer sitting up, and grazes one hand over my breasts and then down. I can feel him pressing into my side, and when his tongue enters my mouth and his hips begin to rock against me, I get the memo that he’s looking for round two. And I’m on board for the wordless, anonymoushelphe wants to give me. I’m looking to forget.
“Let me,” he whispers as his mouth leaves mine and makes a slow path southbound.
I am wrung out and defenseless, so that’s what I do. I let him.
A few hours later we’re sitting in his car, parked in my driveway. It’s like he doesn’t want to let me go inside, and I’m not eager to break the spell either.
Parker was slow and deliberate, smiling every time he made me blush this morning, pausing to ask me at every turn if I was all right and if I liked what he was doing to me. “Does this feel good?” But I was too ashamed to answer. I don’t have that vocabulary or that attitude in my arsenal. Parker got off on that, too. “My sweet Sarah,” he called me more than once.
