Nicole Hildreth's Blog
December 7, 2013
1989
August 1989
Dash rang the doorbell a little before 8 am. He wore his hair short now… I had cut it in the garage with a pair of clippers and a spray bottle, only nicking him once. He was wearing an Agnostic Front t-shirt and jeans pulled over his oxblood boots. Always so cute.
“Hey,” I said, cracking the door. “Come in for a sec. My mom wants to say hi.” I rolled my eyes.
He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. He wrapped his arm around my waist and licked over my bottom lip. I pulled away and pushed on his chest. “Go.”
He rounded the corner. “Hello, Mrs. Wyman.”
“Hello, Dashiell,” she responded, always calling him by his given name. “Senior year.”
God, she was embarrassing.
“Yep,” he answered.
“You need to take care of my Ava. You drive her around in that deathtrap of yours… I just need to make sure she’s safe. She’s the only daughter I’ve got.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He looked over at me and smiled. “She’s the only girl I’ve got.”
My mom smacked him on the back. “Go. You kids are going to be late.” She turned to me. “You. Home straight after work. No going to Dash’s.”
“Fine,” I huffed. “Straight after. Can he come here?”
“Until 10. That’s it. You’ll probably have homework.”
“Mom, we never have work on the first day. It’s more like an orientation.”
She laughed. “Okay, whatever you say. Home straight after.”
When Dash and I got into the car, he immediately pulled me into his side, the definite benefit of having a classic car: the bench seat. I craned my neck back on the leather as he removed my glasses and pressed his lips against mine, lightly brushing the inside of my mouth with his tongue. He tasted like Doublemint.
“Dash,” I breathed, pulling away. “My mom is totally looking out the window.”
“I can’t help it. I need you.”
He and I had been dancing around the sex issue for over three months. I was a virgin; he knew that and respected it, but… it was still excruciating. Every night, he went home with swollen balls and I suffered a pulsing ache between my legs.
“Maybe this weekend,” I said. “Your mom is gone… I don’t know.”
“Really?” he asked, pressing his lips to my neck.
“I said maybe. Let’s go. We’re gonna be late.”
That night, during my shift, we listened to the new Red Hot Chili Peppers LP, Mother’s Milk. It wouldn't be released until the next day, but we always got previews at the store. Dash hung out with me, pretending to sift through the used tape bin. Mostly, he just tried to get me to make out with him behind the racks.
“Go home,” I told him. “You’re gonna get me fired.”
He looked around at the empty store. “They gave you a key. You’re all by yourself. Who’s gonna fire you?”
“I don’t know, Dash. There are probably cameras or something… watching you play grab-ass with me during my entire shift.”
He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “I can’t wait for this weekend.”
I walked over to the S bin, carefully putting new tapes in their slot. “I said maybe, Dash.”
“That’s good enough for me. I’ll let you get back to work… I’ll be back in an hour.”
I looked around quickly and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Don’t be late.”
That Saturday, Dash picked me up at noon. We told my mom that we were going to the beach; our actual plan was to hole up at his house all day. Dash’s hope was that this would be the night. My hope was that I didn’t throw up on him. I was a wreck.
I knew I wanted him to be my first, but I wasn’t sure we were ready for all of that. We had known each other for a year, but had only been really together for four months.
Still, I shaved my legs. You never know.
We started off on the couch. I sat on the opposite end, carefully tucking my legs between us, creating a barrier. He continued to move closer by the minute. I suggested we watch a movie. Even though it was one of my favorites, I could barely focus on the television. My whole center was on Dash and how dangerously close I was to clutching his shirt and ripping it off.
“This movie is ridiculous, babe. Why are we watching this?” he asked, turning towards me.
“It’s romantic, dick,” I answered, throwing a piece of popcorn at him. “She wants to be with him, but can’t. All of her friends hate him because he’s different.”
He pulled at my legs, straightening them and pulling me into his lap. “Speaking of romantic,” he said, clicking the television off.
It was deadly quiet in that room, our faces inches apart. “Hey,” I whispered, “Let’s walk down to the beach.”
He groaned. “You bring your suit?”
“I had to. My mom was stalking me all morning. I think she’s onto us.”
He smacked my backside. “You can change in my room. When we get back, you owe me some alone time.”
Oh, God. Alone time. The flutter between my legs was back.
I loved that Dash lived on a private leg of the beach. There were less than twenty people in our stretch. We spread out on a towel a few inches from the shore. I guess if we had to live in Indiana, this part of the state didn’t suck.
He rubbed his fingers over my stomach, tracing along my navel.
“Stop. There are kids over there.”
“I’m not doing anything. I’m barely touching you.” He turned his attention to the small radio I had brought with me. “God, how is it that every time you pick the music, it’s horrible?”
I smacked his hand. “This is really good.” Echo and the Bunnymen’s Ocean Rain played in the background. “It’s reflective.”
He laughed, covering my midriff with hot sand. “Fucking reflective… please. If we go back to my house, I’ll let you play all the shitty music you want. I just want to kiss you where we don’t have an audience.”
We had only been down there thirty minutes, but I was starting to feel his anxiety. “Okay,” I said. “I’m holding you to the shitty music comment. My choice… all day.”
He packed our bag and clicked the radio off. “Don’t care. I’m in too good of a mood.”
We lay in his bed, fully clothed, staring at the ceiling. Dash had kept his promise, letting me pick the music we listened to. I chose Depeche Mode’s Music for the Masses.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said. “Trying to make me run.” He rolled towards me and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Not gonna work.”
He leaned in and kissed my neck softly. I tried to focus on the background track, “Agent Orange,” bouncing off of his bedroom walls. My body was betraying me as his hand slipped into the band of my pants. I pulled it away and pressed my body against his, wrapping my arm around his waist.
Kissing Dash was flat-out literally the best sensation in the world. My whole body lit up when he pressed his lips to mine. But… I had questions.
“Dash,” I breathed. “Hey… stop for a sec.”
He pulled away and laid his head back on the pillow, breathing heavily. “Ava, come on. You’re killing me.”
“I know. I just wondered… you know… how many girls have you done this with?”
He faced me. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. You’re 17. I hope it’s not too many to count.” I folded my arms over my chest.
“Ava, I just meant that you aren’t gonna like any answer I give you. If I say ‘one,’ you’re going to wonder who that one girl is. If I say ‘ten,’ you’re going to leave.”
I opened my mouth in surprise. “Ten, Dash?”
“See, Ava? Whatever I say is going to set you off. Fine, you want to know? Two. Jill Jordan and Sarah. Well, one, technically. Just Sarah.”
He was right. I didn’t want to know. I felt sick to my stomach, sitting up in bed. “Take me home.”
“Ava,” he whispered, sitting up and taking my hand in his. “Listen to me. Jill and I have known each other since we were five. It’s not going to make you feel better, but… the first time was when we both drank for the first time. We were both totally smashed and she made an attempt to give me a blow job.”
I shot him a look of mortification.
He continued. “An attempt, Ava. I never slept with her and it was obvious that she had never done that before either. She literally gagged and threw up on my lap.”
I laughed instinctively, but forced myself back to stoic. “And? What about Sarah?” My voice went back to cold.
“She wasn’t a virgin. Let’s put it that way. She was very experienced. I started to try, but she was less than thrilled with my performance. She was pushy and forceful… I don’t know… she bit me down there. I told her that I didn’t like it and she told me that every guy liked being bit and that if I couldn’t stay hard, I was probably gay.”
I laughed again. I couldn’t help myself. “But you said that you slept with her.”
“Well, I did. Kind of... just once. She gave me another chance, but it was totally embarrassing. I hadn’t ever used a condom before, so I didn’t know exactly how it worked, really. She helped to put it on. Then, she sat on top of me for like ten seconds and it was over.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “So, there you have it, Ava. One time… in her fucking stupid car. For ten seconds.”
“So, why did she stay with you?”
“Better question is, why did I stay with her? I was literally scared of her all of the time. She was over-sexed and nuts.”
I smiled a bit and lay back down.
He leaned over me and pressed his lips to mine. “You still mad?”
I pulled him closer and wrapped my legs around his waist. He ground his erection between them.
I laughed and pushed at his hips. “I thought it would be worse, actually. Shannon told me that you had girls all over the Chicagoland area. I’m not mad, honestly, but I don’t think tonight’s gonna happen. Can we just lie here?”
He kissed me once more and rolled over onto his back. “What would Shannon know about it?”
“You know how everyone in this town likes to talk. She just heard from someone who heard from someone… she said that you were the ‘king dick’ of the club scene,” I teased.
“King Dick?”
“I don’t know… that’s just what she said. I didn’t even know there was a club scene.”
He smiled and lowered his head to my waist, pushing up on the hem of my tank top. His tongue drifted over my navel. “You’re my club scene now.”
I sighed, letting him take things a little further. He pulled at the material of my shirt, lifting it over my head. “Hey,” I said. “My 18th birthday is in a month. If you can wait…”
“I can wait,” he breathed, kissing around my collarbone. “Can I still kiss you?”
“Yes.”
“With your top off?” he joked.
“Yes,” I croaked. “But… the bra stays on.”
September 17.
My birthday fell on a Saturday (perfect). That morning, a huge bouquet of red roses was delivered to the house. My mom nearly fell over. “Ava Jayne!”
“Wow,” I responded, sticking my nose into the petals. “They’re beautiful.”
“There’s a card. Read it!”
“Out loud?”
She gave me a head cock. “Yes, out loud.”
I tore back the tiny envelope and pulled the card into my palm. “Ava. I love you. I can’t wait for tonight. Dash.”
I swallowed.
“What does that mean? Does he have something planned? And since when does he love you?”
“I don’t know. He’s never said it before. And yeah, I think he has something planned. It’s a surprise. Dinner on the beach, I’ll bet.”
Yeah, right.
“Sounds romantic.” She stepped closer. “Not too romantic, okay? You’ve got plenty of time in your life for all of that.”
Could she hear my heart pounding out of my chest?
“I know,” I whispered.
I was ready to be with Dash. Every time we were together, we slipped further into gray territory. We had done a little already, but I definitely wanted to make sure that I was an “adult” before we took it any further. I was older than he was by one month. Technically, I would be taking advantage of him.
The phone rang. I rushed to the kitchen and nabbed it off the wall. “Hello?”
“How’s my birthday girl?” Dash asked, his voice full of morning grog.
“Better now. Got your flowers.”
“Oh yeah? Can you be ready in an hour?”
I squealed. “For what?”
“It’s a surprise. Your mom can come.”
“Seriously?” I whispered, turning my back to my mother.
“Trust me. She won’t be with us all day.”
I hung up and raced to the bathroom, nearly sliding across the linoleum. “Mom!” I screamed, “Be ready in 40 minutes! Dash is picking us up.”
I showered and took my time applying the “good makeup.” This meant a full face. Kohl eyeliner, mascara, powder, lipstick. Definitely not my weekday basic face of Lip Smackers and one wand of mascara on each eye. I pulled my hair into a high bun and poked bobby pins into it all over.
I was pulling on my boots when the doorbell rang. “Ma! Can you get that?” I spritzed some Calvin Klein perfume into the air and walked through it before I ran down the stairs and into Dash’s arms. “Hi, baby.”
He squeezed tightly and let me go, holding something in his hand. It was a small box, wrapped in shiny silver foil.
“For me?”
He nodded.
I tore back the paper and lifted the lid to find a thin silver necklace with a black hanging stone in the center. “Ohmigod, Dash. This is so beautiful.” I handed it to him and turned around. “Can you help me put it on?”
He worked the clasp and settled his lips to my neck. “Happy 18th, Ava.” When I turned back around, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I love you.”
My eyes stung immediately. It was the first time he had ever said that. I clutched my arms around his neck and hugged him hard, whispering, “I love you, too.”
Dash took me and my mom back to his house. When we got out of the car, I could see Jane setting up outside. “Come on, birthday girl!” she yelled.
I walked over to the deck. “Wow, Jane, this is amazing.”
She had a whole breakfast set up on the patio. Coffee, juice, eggs… the works. She closed the gap between us and squeezed me tight. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. I love you.”
My mom walked up and politely gave Jane a swift hug. “Thank you for having us. It certainly is nice to see you outside of Dr. Hill’s office.”
Jane sighed. “It certainly is nice to be out of that office. You look great, Bernadette… as always.”
My mom laughed. “Thanks.”
“Dash, can you grab the fruit from the fridge?” Jane asked, patting him on the back.
He started inside, grabbing my hand along the way. “Help?”
I followed him in. As soon as the door shut behind us, he grabbed me by the waist and kissed me. Hard. “I wanted to do that when I got to your house, but your mom was there.”
“Wow. Happy birthday to me.”
“I’ve got another surprise for you later. As soon as we drop your mom off, we’ll go. Bring your bathing suit.”
“Ah. You’re throwing me a pool party. Should have guessed.”
“No… but there will be a pool.” He grabbed the fruit from the refrigerator and handed me a serving spoon. “So it will seem like you’re doing something. Always so lazy.”
It didn’t take long after we were seated for Jane to start up her usual gossip-mongering. I loved Jane, but that woman knew how to talk. She was constantly going on about some woman from the club or church or wherever. I had learned to basically nod my head and act like her gibberish meant something. Today, however, the gossip became personal.
“Well,” Jane whispered, “I was talking to Bev Ticknor the other day. Turns out, David has gotten himself into quite the pickle. That Arden girl is in ‘the family way,’ if you know what I mean.”
Everyone knows what you mean.
“Shannon?” I asked.
I knew that she and Dave had been seeing each other recently, but she had never mentioned that they had been sleeping together. And pregnant? Holy shit.
“Yes, I think she did say her name was Shannon. Anyway, Bev says that Shannon wants to have an abortion (whispered), but the Ticknors are Catholics. Bev just doesn’t feel right about that.”
I looked over at Dash. He was fiddling with a fork and looking at the table. He knew. Dave must have told him. He briefly made eye contact with me, but went back to the fork, slumping in his seat a bit.
“Isn’t that Shannon’s choice, though?” I asked.
“Well, it takes two to tango, as they say. I think David should have a choice.”
“Does Dave even want a baby? He’s barely eighteen.”
“He and that girl should have thought about that before they had unprotected sex. You two can take a tip from this little lesson,” she noted, looking between me and Dash.
My face flushed as I looked over to my mom. She had her arms crossed over her chest.
Dash sat up in his chair. “Ava’s a virgin, Mom.”
Yep. For about another five hours.
“Well, that’s good,” she responded, rubbing my arm. “It’s nice to know that there are good girls still out there.”
“Shannon’s a nice girl,” I corrected. “People make mistakes.”
“You’re right. So,” she said, changing the subject, “What are you two going to do today?”
Dash reached over and took my hand in his, rubbing his thumb against mine. “It’s a surprise.”
After breakfast, my mom and I helped Jane with the dishes. Dash had a duffle bag that he grabbed from his bedroom, taking it outside to the car. “Hurry up, birthday girl.”
Jane nudged me. “Hey, all that stuff earlier… I’m sorry. I know she’s your friend. I just worry about you two making that kind of mistake. I know you’re a good kid and I know you two care about each other. Anyway… have fun today.”
She wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back and grabbed my purse from the kitchen table. “Bye, Jane. Thanks for breakfast.”
“Anytime, honey.” She blew me a kiss... it was sweet. Dash did that sometimes.
When we got back to the house, I asked Dash what I needed to bring.
“Swimsuit. Towel. Maybe a change of clothes.”
“Be back in a few minutes.”
I left him on the couch and went upstairs to pack. My mom came into my room and closed the door. “Hey,” she whispered, rubbing my back.
I turned to her. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk to you about what Jane said earlier.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know, Mom. No sex before marriage… blah blah.”
“No, not that. I agree with you, you know. People make mistakes. I know Shannon’s a nice girl. She’s always been perfectly respectful; your dad and I like her very much. I just wanted you to know that if she needed help… she can count on your dad and me. I’m sure she’s scared out of her mind right now.”
I wrapped my arms around her shoulders. “Thanks, Mom.”
“That being said, I don’t know where you and Dash are going today, but I still need you home by midnight. No exceptions. And call with the number where you are. Also, no exceptions.”
“Okay.” I shoved a few things in my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. “Love you.”
“Love you, too, superstar.”
God, she was embarrassing.
We traveled down Red Arrow Highway with the windows down. I sat close to him, his hand between my thighs; his thumb lazily rubbed the skin a few inches above my knee. This time, Dash picked the music: Bad Brains. Twenty minutes later, we pulled up at a small, brick bungalow.
“Where are we?”
“The guy that George’s mom dates lives here. I think his name’s Tom.”
“Well, this is sort of weird, right?”
“Well, he doesn’t really live here anymore. He lives with them in Long Beach now, but he hasn’t put it on the market yet. He gave George a key and told him that he could use it on the weekends. I think he was trying to be the ‘cool’ boyfriend. Since George hasn’t had a girlfriend like ever, he hasn’t had much use for it. It’s got a pool and it’s on the beach. Nice, right?”
I opened the door and stepped out onto the driveway. “Yeah, really nice.”
It was white-washed with some copper brick bleeding through. The front door was a bright turquoise, mimicking the water. Dash fumbled with the keys and opened the door. The floors were light wood, overlooking a huge sliding glass door. The pool was just beyond the glass, crystal blue and sparkling. Despite his obvious shitty taste in décor (dolphins, Tom?), it was a great place.
“What do you want to do?”
I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Hmm, pool.”
A few minutes later, I changed in the (awful) bathroom and met Dash outside. He was in a pair of black trunks, no shirt. For doing absolutely no exercise that I knew about, he was super fit. In the bathroom, I had spent a good 30 seconds just trying stretch my bottoms across my ass. Unfortunately, the material that existed wasn’t growing. I always felt like, no matter what, I couldn’t cover that thing.
Dash loved it. He called it my “best asset,” smacking it often. Boys were gross.
As if on cue, Dash strolled over to me, squeezing one cheek in his palm and wrapping his other hand around my back. He kissed me lightly. “Let’s get you wet.”
“You’re disgusting,” I responded with a laugh, pulling away.
We spent an hour in the water before I started to feel the effects of the sun on my pale skin. “I think I’m gonna go in. I’m burning.”
He pulled on the silver handles of the ladder and lifted himself out, putting a hand out for me. Once we were standing, he pulled me into his chest and kissed my neck.
“Hey, can we talk for a sec?” I asked.
“We can talk about whatever you want.” His lips traveled down my shoulder.
“Dash, stop for a sec. Did you know about Dave and Shannon?”
“He called me last night.” He walked over to the chair and grabbed our towels, throwing mine towards me. “Heads up.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it was after nine and I know your mom’s fucked up phone rule. This morning, she was with us the whole time. When was I supposed to tell you? Besides, I don’t even know that it’s our business, you know? That’s between them.”
“Do you think we should wait?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that obviously sex is a pretty big deal… I mean, what if I got pregnant?”
“You wouldn’t,” he said. “We’re not stupid.”
“Condoms don’t always work, you know that.”
“I know, which is why I think you should go on the pill. You’re 18, so you don’t need your mom’s permission. You can just go to the clinic.”
I stared at him. “Why can’t you go to the fucking clinic? Maybe I don’t want to be on the pill.”
“Ava, I would take a fucking pill if they made one for guys.” He walked back over and rubbed my arm. “Fine, you don’t have to take the pill. I just don’t want to worry about that stuff this year. We’ll be going to college in the fall…”
“About that,” I clipped, “you haven’t even told me where you’re going. You know my plan, but I don’t even know what you’re doing. I mean, do you see this as being long term? Because if you do, we need to talk about that. If you don’t, then we should probably end it now.”
“Ava, what the fuck does that mean?”
“I mean that before I get all wrapped up in this… and I lose my virginity, I want to make sure that I lose it to a guy that actually gives a shit about me.”
He backed up, staring at me. “Whoa. What’s happening? Are you trying to end this?”
I stepped closer, softening my voice. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just scared. This is big, Dash. I mean, why did you bring me here today? I’m assuming it wasn’t to splash around in the pool all afternoon.”
“I brought you here so that we could be alone. I thought you wanted to be together. We’ve talked about it nonstop. If you want to go home, I can take you home. But I thought you wanted this…”
I closed the distance between us and cupped the sides of his face, pressing my lips against his. “I do. Do you?”
He picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, smacking me once on the backside. Sliding open the door, he took me down the hall and into the master bedroom, plopping me down on the bed. There were mirrors everywhere, including the ceiling (seriously, Tom?).
I laughed aloud. “Who is George’s mom dating? Hugh Fucking Hefner?”
“I know, right? Either this guy’s a major player or wants to be.”
“I’m almost afraid to get under that thing,” I responded, pointing to the black satin comforter. The sheets matched, pillows propped against a gold headboard. I don’t even think it was actually metal. It looked to me like plastic painted in a metallic glaze.
“He has a housekeeper… and he hasn't been here all month. The sheets are clean, even if they are fucking tacky. Be back in a second.”
He disappeared into the living room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Did I want my first time to be on a king-sized black satin covered bed with a plastic gold headboard? Who was I kidding? If given the time, I could come up with a million excuses as to why I wanted to wait.
What exactly was I waiting for though? I knew Dash. I loved him. He was the only person that I could picture myself being with. Was it because he was 17? I mean… big deal, right? He’d be 18 in less than 30 days.
Dash came back into the room with my portable CD player and a package of condoms. He set them on the side table, plugging the radio in.
“I want to wait,” I blurted out.
He laughed and sat down on the side of the bed. “Okay. I figured. It’s the bed, right?”
I squeezed his hand. “No, it’s fine. I have a proposition.”
“Okay, what?” He looked deflated.
“Your birthday is in 22 days. I promise, promise, promise I won’t make you wait any longer if you can wait until then.”
“It’s because I’m not 18? Come on, Ava.”
“I know, it’s ridiculous, but it means something to me. I need to wait just a little longer. We can still make out if you want. I’ll even get under these creepy sheets with you. You don’t think he’s killed anyone in here, do you?” I joked.
He pulled back the comforter and patted the bed. “My balls are literally tucked inside of my body by now. What’s 22 more days?”
October 9.
I called Shannon that morning. “Hi, can you talk?”
“Yeah, for a minute. What’s going on?” she whispered.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble. I just missed you. You weren’t at school today.”
She breathed into the line. “My stepmom took me into Chicago today.”
“Oh.” The procedure. She had decided to go through with it. “I saw Dave at school. Why didn’t he go with you?”
“His mom wouldn’t let him.”
“You okay?”
“No, would you be?”
I paused. “No. I’m sorry… I didn’t mean anything.”
“I know. Dina’s coming. I’ve gotta go. I’m gonna be out for a few days, so don’t worry about me, okay? See you Thursday, maybe.”
“If you need anything, you can just…”
“Bye.” The line went dead.
I clicked the receiver and called Dash. “Hey,” he said.
“Hi. Come over? I made you a birthday cake last night. Wanna eat it?”
“Be over in ten. Love you.”
I ate a small piece of cake, but my stomach was full of butterflies. Every time I looked at Dash, I knew. He knew this was our big fucking to-do. Now or never. I couldn’t make him wait any longer.
I didn’t want to.
I was so ready. That didn’t mean I still wasn’t nervous. My record store job didn’t pay for a lot, but it did allow me to buy a nice set of black underwear from Carson’s. The girl behind the cash register was in my French class. Of course.
Dash ate two pieces, licking his fork. “Now what, Wyman?”
“Mom!” I yelled. “We’re going out. Just down to the beach. Maybe to Dino’s… back by ten.”
She yelled back, “Happy birthday, Dashiell!”
“Thanks, Mrs. Wyman.”
I didn’t want him to know where we were going, so I had to keep the directions simple since he was driving. Turn left. Turn right at the next light. Pull in here.
The Lakeview Inn was 20 miles from Long Beach. It was expensive for me, at 69 dollars a night. After tax, I had to work 15 hours at the store just to cover the cost. But… I didn’t want to lie on Tom’s creepy black satin sheets or smashed into the backseat of the Chevelle.
I knew we would only be at the inn for four hours or so, but it was worth it. It had to be worth it. He turned off the engine and smiled. “Aw, sweetie. Look how cute.” He was mocking me.
“Screw you, Walker. I can easily go home if you’d rather.”
He opened the door. “No way. Let’s go. God, I hope the girl at the front desk is wearing a bonnet.”
“You’d only be so lucky. Hey, we could have ended up at the Tomahawk.”
Check-in was mortifying, but why wouldn’t it be? Two 18 year-olds trying to pull one over on the innkeeper? Yeah, probably not possible. But, we both had ID and I had a reservation, so they could judge all they wanted… from two towns away.
Dash sat on the side of the bed, unlacing his boots and pulling them off slowly, studying the floral décor. “Yep, exactly what I thought it would look like in here. It’s a lot of pink.”
I went into the bathroom and took a few deep breaths, staring into the mirror.
It’s just sex, Ava. It’s just sex.
I slowly unbuttoned my shirt and jeans, removing and folding them with precision. I turned sideways, trying to get a view of my new underwear from the back. Not bad. The bra was all lace, my breasts pooling over the top. I tried to tuck them back in but, I guessed it didn’t matter much. Within minutes, that bra would most likely be airborne.
I pulled a toothbrush from my purse and squeezed some paste on the tip, placing it in my mouth.
“Wrap it up, Ava Jayne,” Dash yelled.
I regretted ever telling him my middle name. When I let it slip that I was named after the two famous starlets Gardner and Mansfield, he poked fun of me for days. Luckily, his mom was a crime novel nut… his name had quite the backstory as well.
I spit into the sink and wiped my mouth. Pulling the bobby pins from my hair, I let it fall over my shoulders. Go, Ava.
When I walked back in the room, Dash gave me a low whistle. “Wow.”
I quickly got into bed beside him, embarrassed. “What? It’s not any different than my bikini.”
He pulled me closer. “Trust me, it’s way different. Hey, if you feel uncomfortable or I hurt you somehow, tell me to stop, okay?”
I nodded and pressed my lips to his. He pulled me towards the center of the bed and gently lay on top of me. It was perfectly quiet, the only sounds coming from our lips. He was dressed only in boxer shorts. No shirt, no pants.
He reached around to my back, fumbling my bra strap with shaky hands.
“You okay?” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he responded, choking out a feeble laugh. “You?”
I pulled him close and ground my body against his. He softened… became more confident, his fingers gripping my back. This time, his efforts at the clasp were successful. He slowly moved the straps down my arms and tossed it on the floor. I was embarrassed immediately. The lights weren’t even turned down.
“Dash, can you get the lights?”
He smiled at me. “I just want to look at you for a second. Is that okay?”
His gaze was lingering, pressing kisses into my skin. It tickled. “Okay, you’ve seen enough. Lights.”
He clicked off the bedside lamp. It wasn’t quite dark out yet, but getting there. There was low shine through the sheer curtain. His hands lowered to the elastic of my underwear. I moved my hands from his side and pulled them down myself.
He pulled at his own underwear, his now naked body touching mine. It was so different without a barrier between us. I wanted to touch him, but felt nervous. I mean, I’d heard about what happened to high-school guys. They could climax just by thinking about it. What if I touched him and then it was over? I knew he wasn’t technically a virgin, but… let’s face it. He kind of was. I didn’t think that ten seconds of fumbling in a car counted for much.
I lightly moved my hand to his hip… then closer, brushing along the tip. He let out a sharp breath.
Please don’t finish. Please don’t finish.
He moved, gently pushing in closer until my hand was wrapped around him. I had literally no one to compare him to. I’d never even seen another guy naked, unless you counted seeing an uncomfortable issue of Playgirl that Tracie Bronson revealed from her mom’s bedside table. I certainly didn’t study the photos, shoving it back in her hands, petrified of being caught.
Dash’s skin was warm. He felt comfortable. His breath picked up pace as I slid my hand down. I had no idea what I was doing. I tried to keep my speed very slow. I wanted him ready, but not too ready. When my thumb brushed along the edge, I felt a warm trickle of liquid come out. I pulled away instantly. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
“Ava, that’s supposed to happen.” He leaned in and kissed me gently. I seem to remember it occurring once before in his basement. I was feeling bold and ventured just below the flap of his jeans. His underwear felt a little wet, the substance sort of silk-like.
“Do you think you’re ready?”
I nodded my response. He reached to the side table and tore a condom off of the perforated pack. He took his time, carefully rolling the sides and pulling gently at the top for any air.
He turned back to me, smiling. “God, I hope this isn’t a disaster,” he said, laughing.
“Come on,” I teased. “Show me what you’ve got.”
“No pressure,” he responded lightly. “Okay.”
I instinctively shifted my knees as he settled in between my legs. He lowered his head, kissing my neck. “I love you, Ava.”
“I love you.”
With that, he pushed in slowly, tears springing to my eyes. It was barely an inch inside, but my first instinct was to get it out. I waited, trying to focus on his face. He studied me, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip. “You okay?”
I nodded (lying).
Dash pushed in a little further, at least halfway now. My body started to stretch a bit, getting acclimated to the burning sensation. It didn’t feel good, but it did feel better. He moved slowly, pushing in using the footboard as gentle leverage. The bed had to be fifty years old, squeaking at every movement.
I tried to widen my stance, spreading my knees further apart. The next time he pushed in, it was easier… even mildly enjoyable. I let out a light moan.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No,” I whispered. “It was good. Keep going.”
He laughed, burying his head in the crook of my neck. “I don’t know how much longer this is going to be… I’m sorry.”
I kissed his shoulder. “It’s fine, really.”
His pace picked up a bit, his breath coming faster. “Oh, God… Ava.”
The faster he went, the more friction he created inside. The burn wasn’t unbearable, but it certainly wasn’t comfortable. Luckily, I didn’t have much longer to wait. Dash let out some sort of low groan (picture bear caught in a trap here), his body slack on top of mine. He was breathing harder than a normal human should, coughing at ten second intervals.
“You okay?” I asked.
He pulled out slowly, causing me to wince. “I’m sorry, A. I feel like a total idiot. You didn’t like it, did you?”
Was I supposed to lie?
“It was fine. A little uncomfortable, I guess.”
He kissed me gently. “It’ll be better next time, I promise.”
“I know. Hey, we have the room until I have to be home… maybe we can try again in a little bit.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you need to go…?” I asked, gesturing towards the bathroom.
“Oh… yeah.” He shuffled out of bed and flipped on the bright light.
I covered my eyes briefly and stood. I turned back towards the bed and immediately gasped. There were tiny droplets of blood on the perfect white sheets. I followed Dash into the bathroom, passing him as he stood over the trash can, removing the condom.
“Shit… I bled.”
“It’s okay, Ava. That happens sometimes, right?”
“On the bed, Dash,” I responded, looking for a washcloth and wetting it. I rushed back to the bed and scrubbed at the spots, getting most of it out.
“It looks fine. Don’t freak out.” He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and laid it on top of the sheets. He patted the bed, gesturing me to come lie on it with him. I crawled in and buried my head in his chest. “Let’s just lay here. Relax.”
I breathed in his scent, closing my eyes, becoming calm almost immediately. Fifteen minutes later, we were in it for round two.
It was better this time. Lasted longer. Less painful. More pleasurable. I was still sore, but it was a good kind of sore.
A totally worth it kind of sore.
Dash rang the doorbell a little before 8 am. He wore his hair short now… I had cut it in the garage with a pair of clippers and a spray bottle, only nicking him once. He was wearing an Agnostic Front t-shirt and jeans pulled over his oxblood boots. Always so cute.
“Hey,” I said, cracking the door. “Come in for a sec. My mom wants to say hi.” I rolled my eyes.
He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. He wrapped his arm around my waist and licked over my bottom lip. I pulled away and pushed on his chest. “Go.”
He rounded the corner. “Hello, Mrs. Wyman.”
“Hello, Dashiell,” she responded, always calling him by his given name. “Senior year.”
God, she was embarrassing.
“Yep,” he answered.
“You need to take care of my Ava. You drive her around in that deathtrap of yours… I just need to make sure she’s safe. She’s the only daughter I’ve got.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He looked over at me and smiled. “She’s the only girl I’ve got.”
My mom smacked him on the back. “Go. You kids are going to be late.” She turned to me. “You. Home straight after work. No going to Dash’s.”
“Fine,” I huffed. “Straight after. Can he come here?”
“Until 10. That’s it. You’ll probably have homework.”
“Mom, we never have work on the first day. It’s more like an orientation.”
She laughed. “Okay, whatever you say. Home straight after.”
When Dash and I got into the car, he immediately pulled me into his side, the definite benefit of having a classic car: the bench seat. I craned my neck back on the leather as he removed my glasses and pressed his lips against mine, lightly brushing the inside of my mouth with his tongue. He tasted like Doublemint.
“Dash,” I breathed, pulling away. “My mom is totally looking out the window.”
“I can’t help it. I need you.”
He and I had been dancing around the sex issue for over three months. I was a virgin; he knew that and respected it, but… it was still excruciating. Every night, he went home with swollen balls and I suffered a pulsing ache between my legs.
“Maybe this weekend,” I said. “Your mom is gone… I don’t know.”
“Really?” he asked, pressing his lips to my neck.
“I said maybe. Let’s go. We’re gonna be late.”
That night, during my shift, we listened to the new Red Hot Chili Peppers LP, Mother’s Milk. It wouldn't be released until the next day, but we always got previews at the store. Dash hung out with me, pretending to sift through the used tape bin. Mostly, he just tried to get me to make out with him behind the racks.
“Go home,” I told him. “You’re gonna get me fired.”
He looked around at the empty store. “They gave you a key. You’re all by yourself. Who’s gonna fire you?”
“I don’t know, Dash. There are probably cameras or something… watching you play grab-ass with me during my entire shift.”
He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “I can’t wait for this weekend.”
I walked over to the S bin, carefully putting new tapes in their slot. “I said maybe, Dash.”
“That’s good enough for me. I’ll let you get back to work… I’ll be back in an hour.”
I looked around quickly and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Don’t be late.”
That Saturday, Dash picked me up at noon. We told my mom that we were going to the beach; our actual plan was to hole up at his house all day. Dash’s hope was that this would be the night. My hope was that I didn’t throw up on him. I was a wreck.
I knew I wanted him to be my first, but I wasn’t sure we were ready for all of that. We had known each other for a year, but had only been really together for four months.
Still, I shaved my legs. You never know.
We started off on the couch. I sat on the opposite end, carefully tucking my legs between us, creating a barrier. He continued to move closer by the minute. I suggested we watch a movie. Even though it was one of my favorites, I could barely focus on the television. My whole center was on Dash and how dangerously close I was to clutching his shirt and ripping it off.
“This movie is ridiculous, babe. Why are we watching this?” he asked, turning towards me.
“It’s romantic, dick,” I answered, throwing a piece of popcorn at him. “She wants to be with him, but can’t. All of her friends hate him because he’s different.”
He pulled at my legs, straightening them and pulling me into his lap. “Speaking of romantic,” he said, clicking the television off.
It was deadly quiet in that room, our faces inches apart. “Hey,” I whispered, “Let’s walk down to the beach.”
He groaned. “You bring your suit?”
“I had to. My mom was stalking me all morning. I think she’s onto us.”
He smacked my backside. “You can change in my room. When we get back, you owe me some alone time.”
Oh, God. Alone time. The flutter between my legs was back.
I loved that Dash lived on a private leg of the beach. There were less than twenty people in our stretch. We spread out on a towel a few inches from the shore. I guess if we had to live in Indiana, this part of the state didn’t suck.
He rubbed his fingers over my stomach, tracing along my navel.
“Stop. There are kids over there.”
“I’m not doing anything. I’m barely touching you.” He turned his attention to the small radio I had brought with me. “God, how is it that every time you pick the music, it’s horrible?”
I smacked his hand. “This is really good.” Echo and the Bunnymen’s Ocean Rain played in the background. “It’s reflective.”
He laughed, covering my midriff with hot sand. “Fucking reflective… please. If we go back to my house, I’ll let you play all the shitty music you want. I just want to kiss you where we don’t have an audience.”
We had only been down there thirty minutes, but I was starting to feel his anxiety. “Okay,” I said. “I’m holding you to the shitty music comment. My choice… all day.”
He packed our bag and clicked the radio off. “Don’t care. I’m in too good of a mood.”
We lay in his bed, fully clothed, staring at the ceiling. Dash had kept his promise, letting me pick the music we listened to. I chose Depeche Mode’s Music for the Masses.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said. “Trying to make me run.” He rolled towards me and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Not gonna work.”
He leaned in and kissed my neck softly. I tried to focus on the background track, “Agent Orange,” bouncing off of his bedroom walls. My body was betraying me as his hand slipped into the band of my pants. I pulled it away and pressed my body against his, wrapping my arm around his waist.
Kissing Dash was flat-out literally the best sensation in the world. My whole body lit up when he pressed his lips to mine. But… I had questions.
“Dash,” I breathed. “Hey… stop for a sec.”
He pulled away and laid his head back on the pillow, breathing heavily. “Ava, come on. You’re killing me.”
“I know. I just wondered… you know… how many girls have you done this with?”
He faced me. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. You’re 17. I hope it’s not too many to count.” I folded my arms over my chest.
“Ava, I just meant that you aren’t gonna like any answer I give you. If I say ‘one,’ you’re going to wonder who that one girl is. If I say ‘ten,’ you’re going to leave.”
I opened my mouth in surprise. “Ten, Dash?”
“See, Ava? Whatever I say is going to set you off. Fine, you want to know? Two. Jill Jordan and Sarah. Well, one, technically. Just Sarah.”
He was right. I didn’t want to know. I felt sick to my stomach, sitting up in bed. “Take me home.”
“Ava,” he whispered, sitting up and taking my hand in his. “Listen to me. Jill and I have known each other since we were five. It’s not going to make you feel better, but… the first time was when we both drank for the first time. We were both totally smashed and she made an attempt to give me a blow job.”
I shot him a look of mortification.
He continued. “An attempt, Ava. I never slept with her and it was obvious that she had never done that before either. She literally gagged and threw up on my lap.”
I laughed instinctively, but forced myself back to stoic. “And? What about Sarah?” My voice went back to cold.
“She wasn’t a virgin. Let’s put it that way. She was very experienced. I started to try, but she was less than thrilled with my performance. She was pushy and forceful… I don’t know… she bit me down there. I told her that I didn’t like it and she told me that every guy liked being bit and that if I couldn’t stay hard, I was probably gay.”
I laughed again. I couldn’t help myself. “But you said that you slept with her.”
“Well, I did. Kind of... just once. She gave me another chance, but it was totally embarrassing. I hadn’t ever used a condom before, so I didn’t know exactly how it worked, really. She helped to put it on. Then, she sat on top of me for like ten seconds and it was over.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “So, there you have it, Ava. One time… in her fucking stupid car. For ten seconds.”
“So, why did she stay with you?”
“Better question is, why did I stay with her? I was literally scared of her all of the time. She was over-sexed and nuts.”
I smiled a bit and lay back down.
He leaned over me and pressed his lips to mine. “You still mad?”
I pulled him closer and wrapped my legs around his waist. He ground his erection between them.
I laughed and pushed at his hips. “I thought it would be worse, actually. Shannon told me that you had girls all over the Chicagoland area. I’m not mad, honestly, but I don’t think tonight’s gonna happen. Can we just lie here?”
He kissed me once more and rolled over onto his back. “What would Shannon know about it?”
“You know how everyone in this town likes to talk. She just heard from someone who heard from someone… she said that you were the ‘king dick’ of the club scene,” I teased.
“King Dick?”
“I don’t know… that’s just what she said. I didn’t even know there was a club scene.”
He smiled and lowered his head to my waist, pushing up on the hem of my tank top. His tongue drifted over my navel. “You’re my club scene now.”
I sighed, letting him take things a little further. He pulled at the material of my shirt, lifting it over my head. “Hey,” I said. “My 18th birthday is in a month. If you can wait…”
“I can wait,” he breathed, kissing around my collarbone. “Can I still kiss you?”
“Yes.”
“With your top off?” he joked.
“Yes,” I croaked. “But… the bra stays on.”
September 17.
My birthday fell on a Saturday (perfect). That morning, a huge bouquet of red roses was delivered to the house. My mom nearly fell over. “Ava Jayne!”
“Wow,” I responded, sticking my nose into the petals. “They’re beautiful.”
“There’s a card. Read it!”
“Out loud?”
She gave me a head cock. “Yes, out loud.”
I tore back the tiny envelope and pulled the card into my palm. “Ava. I love you. I can’t wait for tonight. Dash.”
I swallowed.
“What does that mean? Does he have something planned? And since when does he love you?”
“I don’t know. He’s never said it before. And yeah, I think he has something planned. It’s a surprise. Dinner on the beach, I’ll bet.”
Yeah, right.
“Sounds romantic.” She stepped closer. “Not too romantic, okay? You’ve got plenty of time in your life for all of that.”
Could she hear my heart pounding out of my chest?
“I know,” I whispered.
I was ready to be with Dash. Every time we were together, we slipped further into gray territory. We had done a little already, but I definitely wanted to make sure that I was an “adult” before we took it any further. I was older than he was by one month. Technically, I would be taking advantage of him.
The phone rang. I rushed to the kitchen and nabbed it off the wall. “Hello?”
“How’s my birthday girl?” Dash asked, his voice full of morning grog.
“Better now. Got your flowers.”
“Oh yeah? Can you be ready in an hour?”
I squealed. “For what?”
“It’s a surprise. Your mom can come.”
“Seriously?” I whispered, turning my back to my mother.
“Trust me. She won’t be with us all day.”
I hung up and raced to the bathroom, nearly sliding across the linoleum. “Mom!” I screamed, “Be ready in 40 minutes! Dash is picking us up.”
I showered and took my time applying the “good makeup.” This meant a full face. Kohl eyeliner, mascara, powder, lipstick. Definitely not my weekday basic face of Lip Smackers and one wand of mascara on each eye. I pulled my hair into a high bun and poked bobby pins into it all over.
I was pulling on my boots when the doorbell rang. “Ma! Can you get that?” I spritzed some Calvin Klein perfume into the air and walked through it before I ran down the stairs and into Dash’s arms. “Hi, baby.”
He squeezed tightly and let me go, holding something in his hand. It was a small box, wrapped in shiny silver foil.
“For me?”
He nodded.
I tore back the paper and lifted the lid to find a thin silver necklace with a black hanging stone in the center. “Ohmigod, Dash. This is so beautiful.” I handed it to him and turned around. “Can you help me put it on?”
He worked the clasp and settled his lips to my neck. “Happy 18th, Ava.” When I turned back around, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I love you.”
My eyes stung immediately. It was the first time he had ever said that. I clutched my arms around his neck and hugged him hard, whispering, “I love you, too.”
Dash took me and my mom back to his house. When we got out of the car, I could see Jane setting up outside. “Come on, birthday girl!” she yelled.
I walked over to the deck. “Wow, Jane, this is amazing.”
She had a whole breakfast set up on the patio. Coffee, juice, eggs… the works. She closed the gap between us and squeezed me tight. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. I love you.”
My mom walked up and politely gave Jane a swift hug. “Thank you for having us. It certainly is nice to see you outside of Dr. Hill’s office.”
Jane sighed. “It certainly is nice to be out of that office. You look great, Bernadette… as always.”
My mom laughed. “Thanks.”
“Dash, can you grab the fruit from the fridge?” Jane asked, patting him on the back.
He started inside, grabbing my hand along the way. “Help?”
I followed him in. As soon as the door shut behind us, he grabbed me by the waist and kissed me. Hard. “I wanted to do that when I got to your house, but your mom was there.”
“Wow. Happy birthday to me.”
“I’ve got another surprise for you later. As soon as we drop your mom off, we’ll go. Bring your bathing suit.”
“Ah. You’re throwing me a pool party. Should have guessed.”
“No… but there will be a pool.” He grabbed the fruit from the refrigerator and handed me a serving spoon. “So it will seem like you’re doing something. Always so lazy.”
It didn’t take long after we were seated for Jane to start up her usual gossip-mongering. I loved Jane, but that woman knew how to talk. She was constantly going on about some woman from the club or church or wherever. I had learned to basically nod my head and act like her gibberish meant something. Today, however, the gossip became personal.
“Well,” Jane whispered, “I was talking to Bev Ticknor the other day. Turns out, David has gotten himself into quite the pickle. That Arden girl is in ‘the family way,’ if you know what I mean.”
Everyone knows what you mean.
“Shannon?” I asked.
I knew that she and Dave had been seeing each other recently, but she had never mentioned that they had been sleeping together. And pregnant? Holy shit.
“Yes, I think she did say her name was Shannon. Anyway, Bev says that Shannon wants to have an abortion (whispered), but the Ticknors are Catholics. Bev just doesn’t feel right about that.”
I looked over at Dash. He was fiddling with a fork and looking at the table. He knew. Dave must have told him. He briefly made eye contact with me, but went back to the fork, slumping in his seat a bit.
“Isn’t that Shannon’s choice, though?” I asked.
“Well, it takes two to tango, as they say. I think David should have a choice.”
“Does Dave even want a baby? He’s barely eighteen.”
“He and that girl should have thought about that before they had unprotected sex. You two can take a tip from this little lesson,” she noted, looking between me and Dash.
My face flushed as I looked over to my mom. She had her arms crossed over her chest.
Dash sat up in his chair. “Ava’s a virgin, Mom.”
Yep. For about another five hours.
“Well, that’s good,” she responded, rubbing my arm. “It’s nice to know that there are good girls still out there.”
“Shannon’s a nice girl,” I corrected. “People make mistakes.”
“You’re right. So,” she said, changing the subject, “What are you two going to do today?”
Dash reached over and took my hand in his, rubbing his thumb against mine. “It’s a surprise.”
After breakfast, my mom and I helped Jane with the dishes. Dash had a duffle bag that he grabbed from his bedroom, taking it outside to the car. “Hurry up, birthday girl.”
Jane nudged me. “Hey, all that stuff earlier… I’m sorry. I know she’s your friend. I just worry about you two making that kind of mistake. I know you’re a good kid and I know you two care about each other. Anyway… have fun today.”
She wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back and grabbed my purse from the kitchen table. “Bye, Jane. Thanks for breakfast.”
“Anytime, honey.” She blew me a kiss... it was sweet. Dash did that sometimes.
When we got back to the house, I asked Dash what I needed to bring.
“Swimsuit. Towel. Maybe a change of clothes.”
“Be back in a few minutes.”
I left him on the couch and went upstairs to pack. My mom came into my room and closed the door. “Hey,” she whispered, rubbing my back.
I turned to her. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk to you about what Jane said earlier.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know, Mom. No sex before marriage… blah blah.”
“No, not that. I agree with you, you know. People make mistakes. I know Shannon’s a nice girl. She’s always been perfectly respectful; your dad and I like her very much. I just wanted you to know that if she needed help… she can count on your dad and me. I’m sure she’s scared out of her mind right now.”
I wrapped my arms around her shoulders. “Thanks, Mom.”
“That being said, I don’t know where you and Dash are going today, but I still need you home by midnight. No exceptions. And call with the number where you are. Also, no exceptions.”
“Okay.” I shoved a few things in my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. “Love you.”
“Love you, too, superstar.”
God, she was embarrassing.
We traveled down Red Arrow Highway with the windows down. I sat close to him, his hand between my thighs; his thumb lazily rubbed the skin a few inches above my knee. This time, Dash picked the music: Bad Brains. Twenty minutes later, we pulled up at a small, brick bungalow.
“Where are we?”
“The guy that George’s mom dates lives here. I think his name’s Tom.”
“Well, this is sort of weird, right?”
“Well, he doesn’t really live here anymore. He lives with them in Long Beach now, but he hasn’t put it on the market yet. He gave George a key and told him that he could use it on the weekends. I think he was trying to be the ‘cool’ boyfriend. Since George hasn’t had a girlfriend like ever, he hasn’t had much use for it. It’s got a pool and it’s on the beach. Nice, right?”
I opened the door and stepped out onto the driveway. “Yeah, really nice.”
It was white-washed with some copper brick bleeding through. The front door was a bright turquoise, mimicking the water. Dash fumbled with the keys and opened the door. The floors were light wood, overlooking a huge sliding glass door. The pool was just beyond the glass, crystal blue and sparkling. Despite his obvious shitty taste in décor (dolphins, Tom?), it was a great place.
“What do you want to do?”
I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Hmm, pool.”
A few minutes later, I changed in the (awful) bathroom and met Dash outside. He was in a pair of black trunks, no shirt. For doing absolutely no exercise that I knew about, he was super fit. In the bathroom, I had spent a good 30 seconds just trying stretch my bottoms across my ass. Unfortunately, the material that existed wasn’t growing. I always felt like, no matter what, I couldn’t cover that thing.
Dash loved it. He called it my “best asset,” smacking it often. Boys were gross.
As if on cue, Dash strolled over to me, squeezing one cheek in his palm and wrapping his other hand around my back. He kissed me lightly. “Let’s get you wet.”
“You’re disgusting,” I responded with a laugh, pulling away.
We spent an hour in the water before I started to feel the effects of the sun on my pale skin. “I think I’m gonna go in. I’m burning.”
He pulled on the silver handles of the ladder and lifted himself out, putting a hand out for me. Once we were standing, he pulled me into his chest and kissed my neck.
“Hey, can we talk for a sec?” I asked.
“We can talk about whatever you want.” His lips traveled down my shoulder.
“Dash, stop for a sec. Did you know about Dave and Shannon?”
“He called me last night.” He walked over to the chair and grabbed our towels, throwing mine towards me. “Heads up.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it was after nine and I know your mom’s fucked up phone rule. This morning, she was with us the whole time. When was I supposed to tell you? Besides, I don’t even know that it’s our business, you know? That’s between them.”
“Do you think we should wait?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that obviously sex is a pretty big deal… I mean, what if I got pregnant?”
“You wouldn’t,” he said. “We’re not stupid.”
“Condoms don’t always work, you know that.”
“I know, which is why I think you should go on the pill. You’re 18, so you don’t need your mom’s permission. You can just go to the clinic.”
I stared at him. “Why can’t you go to the fucking clinic? Maybe I don’t want to be on the pill.”
“Ava, I would take a fucking pill if they made one for guys.” He walked back over and rubbed my arm. “Fine, you don’t have to take the pill. I just don’t want to worry about that stuff this year. We’ll be going to college in the fall…”
“About that,” I clipped, “you haven’t even told me where you’re going. You know my plan, but I don’t even know what you’re doing. I mean, do you see this as being long term? Because if you do, we need to talk about that. If you don’t, then we should probably end it now.”
“Ava, what the fuck does that mean?”
“I mean that before I get all wrapped up in this… and I lose my virginity, I want to make sure that I lose it to a guy that actually gives a shit about me.”
He backed up, staring at me. “Whoa. What’s happening? Are you trying to end this?”
I stepped closer, softening my voice. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just scared. This is big, Dash. I mean, why did you bring me here today? I’m assuming it wasn’t to splash around in the pool all afternoon.”
“I brought you here so that we could be alone. I thought you wanted to be together. We’ve talked about it nonstop. If you want to go home, I can take you home. But I thought you wanted this…”
I closed the distance between us and cupped the sides of his face, pressing my lips against his. “I do. Do you?”
He picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, smacking me once on the backside. Sliding open the door, he took me down the hall and into the master bedroom, plopping me down on the bed. There were mirrors everywhere, including the ceiling (seriously, Tom?).
I laughed aloud. “Who is George’s mom dating? Hugh Fucking Hefner?”
“I know, right? Either this guy’s a major player or wants to be.”
“I’m almost afraid to get under that thing,” I responded, pointing to the black satin comforter. The sheets matched, pillows propped against a gold headboard. I don’t even think it was actually metal. It looked to me like plastic painted in a metallic glaze.
“He has a housekeeper… and he hasn't been here all month. The sheets are clean, even if they are fucking tacky. Be back in a second.”
He disappeared into the living room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Did I want my first time to be on a king-sized black satin covered bed with a plastic gold headboard? Who was I kidding? If given the time, I could come up with a million excuses as to why I wanted to wait.
What exactly was I waiting for though? I knew Dash. I loved him. He was the only person that I could picture myself being with. Was it because he was 17? I mean… big deal, right? He’d be 18 in less than 30 days.
Dash came back into the room with my portable CD player and a package of condoms. He set them on the side table, plugging the radio in.
“I want to wait,” I blurted out.
He laughed and sat down on the side of the bed. “Okay. I figured. It’s the bed, right?”
I squeezed his hand. “No, it’s fine. I have a proposition.”
“Okay, what?” He looked deflated.
“Your birthday is in 22 days. I promise, promise, promise I won’t make you wait any longer if you can wait until then.”
“It’s because I’m not 18? Come on, Ava.”
“I know, it’s ridiculous, but it means something to me. I need to wait just a little longer. We can still make out if you want. I’ll even get under these creepy sheets with you. You don’t think he’s killed anyone in here, do you?” I joked.
He pulled back the comforter and patted the bed. “My balls are literally tucked inside of my body by now. What’s 22 more days?”
October 9.
I called Shannon that morning. “Hi, can you talk?”
“Yeah, for a minute. What’s going on?” she whispered.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble. I just missed you. You weren’t at school today.”
She breathed into the line. “My stepmom took me into Chicago today.”
“Oh.” The procedure. She had decided to go through with it. “I saw Dave at school. Why didn’t he go with you?”
“His mom wouldn’t let him.”
“You okay?”
“No, would you be?”
I paused. “No. I’m sorry… I didn’t mean anything.”
“I know. Dina’s coming. I’ve gotta go. I’m gonna be out for a few days, so don’t worry about me, okay? See you Thursday, maybe.”
“If you need anything, you can just…”
“Bye.” The line went dead.
I clicked the receiver and called Dash. “Hey,” he said.
“Hi. Come over? I made you a birthday cake last night. Wanna eat it?”
“Be over in ten. Love you.”
I ate a small piece of cake, but my stomach was full of butterflies. Every time I looked at Dash, I knew. He knew this was our big fucking to-do. Now or never. I couldn’t make him wait any longer.
I didn’t want to.
I was so ready. That didn’t mean I still wasn’t nervous. My record store job didn’t pay for a lot, but it did allow me to buy a nice set of black underwear from Carson’s. The girl behind the cash register was in my French class. Of course.
Dash ate two pieces, licking his fork. “Now what, Wyman?”
“Mom!” I yelled. “We’re going out. Just down to the beach. Maybe to Dino’s… back by ten.”
She yelled back, “Happy birthday, Dashiell!”
“Thanks, Mrs. Wyman.”
I didn’t want him to know where we were going, so I had to keep the directions simple since he was driving. Turn left. Turn right at the next light. Pull in here.
The Lakeview Inn was 20 miles from Long Beach. It was expensive for me, at 69 dollars a night. After tax, I had to work 15 hours at the store just to cover the cost. But… I didn’t want to lie on Tom’s creepy black satin sheets or smashed into the backseat of the Chevelle.
I knew we would only be at the inn for four hours or so, but it was worth it. It had to be worth it. He turned off the engine and smiled. “Aw, sweetie. Look how cute.” He was mocking me.
“Screw you, Walker. I can easily go home if you’d rather.”
He opened the door. “No way. Let’s go. God, I hope the girl at the front desk is wearing a bonnet.”
“You’d only be so lucky. Hey, we could have ended up at the Tomahawk.”
Check-in was mortifying, but why wouldn’t it be? Two 18 year-olds trying to pull one over on the innkeeper? Yeah, probably not possible. But, we both had ID and I had a reservation, so they could judge all they wanted… from two towns away.
Dash sat on the side of the bed, unlacing his boots and pulling them off slowly, studying the floral décor. “Yep, exactly what I thought it would look like in here. It’s a lot of pink.”
I went into the bathroom and took a few deep breaths, staring into the mirror.
It’s just sex, Ava. It’s just sex.
I slowly unbuttoned my shirt and jeans, removing and folding them with precision. I turned sideways, trying to get a view of my new underwear from the back. Not bad. The bra was all lace, my breasts pooling over the top. I tried to tuck them back in but, I guessed it didn’t matter much. Within minutes, that bra would most likely be airborne.
I pulled a toothbrush from my purse and squeezed some paste on the tip, placing it in my mouth.
“Wrap it up, Ava Jayne,” Dash yelled.
I regretted ever telling him my middle name. When I let it slip that I was named after the two famous starlets Gardner and Mansfield, he poked fun of me for days. Luckily, his mom was a crime novel nut… his name had quite the backstory as well.
I spit into the sink and wiped my mouth. Pulling the bobby pins from my hair, I let it fall over my shoulders. Go, Ava.
When I walked back in the room, Dash gave me a low whistle. “Wow.”
I quickly got into bed beside him, embarrassed. “What? It’s not any different than my bikini.”
He pulled me closer. “Trust me, it’s way different. Hey, if you feel uncomfortable or I hurt you somehow, tell me to stop, okay?”
I nodded and pressed my lips to his. He pulled me towards the center of the bed and gently lay on top of me. It was perfectly quiet, the only sounds coming from our lips. He was dressed only in boxer shorts. No shirt, no pants.
He reached around to my back, fumbling my bra strap with shaky hands.
“You okay?” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he responded, choking out a feeble laugh. “You?”
I pulled him close and ground my body against his. He softened… became more confident, his fingers gripping my back. This time, his efforts at the clasp were successful. He slowly moved the straps down my arms and tossed it on the floor. I was embarrassed immediately. The lights weren’t even turned down.
“Dash, can you get the lights?”
He smiled at me. “I just want to look at you for a second. Is that okay?”
His gaze was lingering, pressing kisses into my skin. It tickled. “Okay, you’ve seen enough. Lights.”
He clicked off the bedside lamp. It wasn’t quite dark out yet, but getting there. There was low shine through the sheer curtain. His hands lowered to the elastic of my underwear. I moved my hands from his side and pulled them down myself.
He pulled at his own underwear, his now naked body touching mine. It was so different without a barrier between us. I wanted to touch him, but felt nervous. I mean, I’d heard about what happened to high-school guys. They could climax just by thinking about it. What if I touched him and then it was over? I knew he wasn’t technically a virgin, but… let’s face it. He kind of was. I didn’t think that ten seconds of fumbling in a car counted for much.
I lightly moved my hand to his hip… then closer, brushing along the tip. He let out a sharp breath.
Please don’t finish. Please don’t finish.
He moved, gently pushing in closer until my hand was wrapped around him. I had literally no one to compare him to. I’d never even seen another guy naked, unless you counted seeing an uncomfortable issue of Playgirl that Tracie Bronson revealed from her mom’s bedside table. I certainly didn’t study the photos, shoving it back in her hands, petrified of being caught.
Dash’s skin was warm. He felt comfortable. His breath picked up pace as I slid my hand down. I had no idea what I was doing. I tried to keep my speed very slow. I wanted him ready, but not too ready. When my thumb brushed along the edge, I felt a warm trickle of liquid come out. I pulled away instantly. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
“Ava, that’s supposed to happen.” He leaned in and kissed me gently. I seem to remember it occurring once before in his basement. I was feeling bold and ventured just below the flap of his jeans. His underwear felt a little wet, the substance sort of silk-like.
“Do you think you’re ready?”
I nodded my response. He reached to the side table and tore a condom off of the perforated pack. He took his time, carefully rolling the sides and pulling gently at the top for any air.
He turned back to me, smiling. “God, I hope this isn’t a disaster,” he said, laughing.
“Come on,” I teased. “Show me what you’ve got.”
“No pressure,” he responded lightly. “Okay.”
I instinctively shifted my knees as he settled in between my legs. He lowered his head, kissing my neck. “I love you, Ava.”
“I love you.”
With that, he pushed in slowly, tears springing to my eyes. It was barely an inch inside, but my first instinct was to get it out. I waited, trying to focus on his face. He studied me, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip. “You okay?”
I nodded (lying).
Dash pushed in a little further, at least halfway now. My body started to stretch a bit, getting acclimated to the burning sensation. It didn’t feel good, but it did feel better. He moved slowly, pushing in using the footboard as gentle leverage. The bed had to be fifty years old, squeaking at every movement.
I tried to widen my stance, spreading my knees further apart. The next time he pushed in, it was easier… even mildly enjoyable. I let out a light moan.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No,” I whispered. “It was good. Keep going.”
He laughed, burying his head in the crook of my neck. “I don’t know how much longer this is going to be… I’m sorry.”
I kissed his shoulder. “It’s fine, really.”
His pace picked up a bit, his breath coming faster. “Oh, God… Ava.”
The faster he went, the more friction he created inside. The burn wasn’t unbearable, but it certainly wasn’t comfortable. Luckily, I didn’t have much longer to wait. Dash let out some sort of low groan (picture bear caught in a trap here), his body slack on top of mine. He was breathing harder than a normal human should, coughing at ten second intervals.
“You okay?” I asked.
He pulled out slowly, causing me to wince. “I’m sorry, A. I feel like a total idiot. You didn’t like it, did you?”
Was I supposed to lie?
“It was fine. A little uncomfortable, I guess.”
He kissed me gently. “It’ll be better next time, I promise.”
“I know. Hey, we have the room until I have to be home… maybe we can try again in a little bit.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you need to go…?” I asked, gesturing towards the bathroom.
“Oh… yeah.” He shuffled out of bed and flipped on the bright light.
I covered my eyes briefly and stood. I turned back towards the bed and immediately gasped. There were tiny droplets of blood on the perfect white sheets. I followed Dash into the bathroom, passing him as he stood over the trash can, removing the condom.
“Shit… I bled.”
“It’s okay, Ava. That happens sometimes, right?”
“On the bed, Dash,” I responded, looking for a washcloth and wetting it. I rushed back to the bed and scrubbed at the spots, getting most of it out.
“It looks fine. Don’t freak out.” He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and laid it on top of the sheets. He patted the bed, gesturing me to come lie on it with him. I crawled in and buried my head in his chest. “Let’s just lay here. Relax.”
I breathed in his scent, closing my eyes, becoming calm almost immediately. Fifteen minutes later, we were in it for round two.
It was better this time. Lasted longer. Less painful. More pleasurable. I was still sore, but it was a good kind of sore.
A totally worth it kind of sore.
December 1, 2013
1988 (Chapter One)
“One… or two?”
“Two.”
“Three or four?”
“Um,” I said, hesitating. “Four.”
“One or two?”
“Two.”
“Okay, Miss Wyman,” Dr. Hill muttered, jotting something down on a notepad. “Looks like someone needs new glasses.”
Of course. I always needed new glasses. Fucking blind as a bat since I was four years old. I couldn’t wear contacts either. My eyes were “shaped like footballs” or something ridiculous.
“Alright,” I whispered, climbing out of the leather chair.
“Good news is, you get new frames. That’s cool, right?”
God, I hated adults. Seriously? New frames? Why would that be cool?
“Go see Jane out front. She’ll fix you right up.”
Jane Walker had worked at Dr. Hill’s office for as long as I could remember. She was sweet and quiet. “Well, hi, Ava. Let’s try on some frames, huh? What color are we looking for?”
“Black,” I told her.
She eyed me up and down, taking in my attire consisting of a black tank top, black mini, black fishnets, and black 20-eye Doc Marten boots. “Yep, just like my son.”
Ugh. Yeah, we teenagers are all just alike.
She fitted me in several styles while my mom sat next to me, judging every pair.
Honey, those are a little strange.
I finally settled on a pair of thick, matte black ones that she really hated.
“So,” Jane continued, “Starting school next week, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Junior?”
“Yeah.” I wasn’t much for small talk.
“Just like my Dash. Going to Elston?”
“Mmhmm. First year.”
“Oh. Where did you transfer from?”
“Marquette.”
I left out the part where I was on academic probation all year. Walter Wyman wasn’t a man to fuck with. He wasn’t going to waste his money on a child who clearly didn’t want to learn. My mother enrolled me at Elston earlier in the month.
“Ah. Well, you’ll do better in public school anyway. There are more kids like you, I would imagine.”
“What do you mean?” I shot her a look.
“I just mean that private school isn’t very welcoming for creative types. You’re a creative type, I can tell. I’m going to tell my Dash about you. You have to meet. You just have to. Two peas in a pod, I’m telling you.”
I wanted to die. Just shrivel up in that waiting room and wait to be swept under the carpet. And what kind of douchebag name was “Dash” anyway?
“Yeah, sure,” I replied. I tugged at my mom’s purse strap. “You ready?”
***
I had nothing to wear. Nothing.
I finally settled on a black, fitted Cure t-shirt and a short black skirt. It was ridiculously hot, so I forfeited hosiery and wore my black low-top Chuck Taylors. I knotted my long, blonde hair into two buns on the sides of my head, securing them with black, lacquered chopsticks. I slid on my new glasses and pushed them into place. My mom dropped me off in front of school, giving me an awkward squeeze from the driver’s seat. “Have fun, baby.”
I died a little bit inside that morning.
The bell rang; I sat in the back, chewing on the cap of my pen. I had my notebook open but, if I was being honest, had no intentions of actually taking notes. Come on. It was my first day.
A boy sat in front of me. He was tall, over six feet… black, silken hair falling just below his chin, wearing a fitted black t-shirt with the Exploited logo on the back.
Maybe public school was for me.
He lowered his head to his notebook, scratching in it with a pencil. I wondered what he was so focused on.
“Sherry Anderson?”
Madame Baumgarten began calling the roll; I studied the room for interesting (or familiar) faces.
“Dashiell Walker?”
The boy in front of me raised his pencil up, but his eyes never left the page. Holy shit. Jane’s son?
You have to meet. You just have to.
“Ava Wyman?”
I raised my pen as Dash craned his head around. He had a sly smile on his face as he looked (a little too closely) at me. I stared at the Formica tabletop, embarrassed. He turned back to his notebook and tapped his pencil on the edge.
When the bell rang, I headed out to the hallway, staring at my schedule. A deep voice grumbled behind me.
“Hey.”
I turned around. Dash Fucking Walker.
“Hey,” I said back, trying to sound ultra-casual. No, I’m not lost.
“Ava Wyman.”
Seriously? He knew my name?
“How do you know that?”
“You sat behind me in French… like five minutes ago. Besides, my mom told me about you.”
“Yeah?” I countered. “What did she say?”
He smiled and leaned against the wall. “She said that there was a new girl starting school and that she wanted me to be part of the welcoming committee. She said that you were cute, blonde, wore black glasses… and that your name was Ava Wyman.” A smirk spread across his face.
“Huh. Well, I’ve gotta go to class. See you around.” I clutched my book and started to head down the hallway.
“Meet me out by the fence. Lunch.”
I turned on my heel to face him. “What?”
“Welcoming committee, remember?” He put his hands in the pockets of his jeans and gave me one last look before turning away.
***
I clutched my history book and slowly walked over towards the fence. I saw Dash there, from a distance, sitting on a low, brick wall. He was smoking a cigarette. I hated smoking, but I could seriously make an exception for this guy.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey. Guys, this is the lovely Ava Wyman. She’s new here today. These douchebags are George and Dave.”
George was tall, about the same height as Dash, but with a curve to his body, not unlike a girl. Dave was shorter, about the same as me, with long brown hair, halfway down his back. He had a great smile, nodding his head at me.
“Ava… what’s up, girl? Damn, you’re tall.” Dave said, extending his hand to grip mine.
“Yes,“ I joked, “I come from a long line of Amazonian supermodels.”
“Seriously?”
“No,” I deadpanned.
George nervously stared at me. Dash punched him in the upper arm; George flinched. “It’s a fucking girl, numskull.”
Dash laughed. “Sorry, he’s not used to girls making their way to the fence.”
I was shocked that every girl wasn’t on that fence. Dash was crazy beautiful, the kind of beauty that was seriously intimidating.
I sat on the wall, looking over the faculty parking lot. “Want a cigarette?” Dash asked.
“No, thanks. I don’t smoke.”
He nodded. “Smart girl. I shouldn’t.” He nudged me as I studied my afternoon schedule. “Where are you going now?”
“Um, I have world history next and then P.E.” I groaned internally. Fucking P.E.
“With Shelbrook?”
Shelbrook. 2:29.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Why?”
He laughed, throwing his head back. “Fuck yeah! We’re in the same class!”
My heart sank. We had to wear a uniform to P.E. A tight uniform.
“Oh.” I gathered my books. I had to get away from him. In a few short hours, he would see me in that uniform and that would be it for our little flirtation.
I had inherited a few things from my father’s side of the family. A world-class jiggly ass and a D-cup. Gross. Small waist or not, there was no hiding any of that.
“Where are you going?” Dash asked, standing when I did.
“I gotta roll. I have to stop by the office before class.”
“I’ll go with you,” he said, picking his bag off of the wall and slinging it over his shoulder.
“No, stay. It was nice meeting you guys.”
Dave and George both nodded to me. Dash looked visibly confused, but fished a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, his eyes following me as I walked away.
***
The locker room was full of noise, girls practically screaming at one another to be heard over the echo of the metal lockers. I sat on the edge of the bench, slowly pulling my shorts up over my hips. The top was bad enough; a gray “Elston Physical Education” logo on the front stretched tight across my breasts… but the shorts? They were indecent. I was practically physically sick as I tugged at them.
I knew what boys thought. When girls had a body like mine, it meant that they were easy. I had one boyfriend in my life. For one week. We didn’t even hold hands.
“Hey,” a tiny red-haired girl whispered. “You’re new, right?”
“Yeah. I’m Ava.”
“Ava. Cool name. It’s like old-fashioned, kinda. I’m Shannon.”
Shannon was petite, like me, with fiery box-dyed hair and a straight smile. Her hands drifted to her thighs, obviously trying to cover them.
I smiled back at her. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hey, we should hang together for class, you think?”
“Sure,” I answered.
“Can you believe these fucking uniforms? They’re made for junior high kids, I think.” She tugged at the hem of her shorts, trying to pull them down.
“I know,” I sympathized. “My tits are gonna break free any second.”
“Ugh. At least you have tits. God decided to bless me with a fat ass and a size A cup.”
“I’m fairly certain that God didn’t have anything to do with my fat ass. You should see my Aunt Linda.”
She smiled and choked out a laugh. “Let’s hope all the guys in this class are fucking dorks.”
They aren’t.
“Mmm,” I agreed. “I know one guy in our class. I met him this morning. Dash Walker?”
Her eyes got big. “He’s like a punk fucking God, right? Go figure he would be in this class.”
“Yep. He’s pretty cute, right?”
“Um… duh. He doesn’t even like date girls from this school. Like, he has girlfriends in Chicago or something.”
I swallowed. “Oh. He has a girlfriend?”
“I don’t really know. I just heard that he’s like king dick of the club scene or something.”
“What club scene?”
“Like punk shows… whatever. I wouldn’t know because my stepmom’s a fucking asshole. She doesn’t let me go anywhere. I don’t even have a car.”
“I don’t either,” I told her.
“Well, let’s make a pact to meet hot boys with cars. That way, we’ll always have a ride.”
I smiled at her as we made our way outside to the field.
Fucking P.E.
***
Dash stood in the field talking to some guy in a red football jersey. He had an ease about him as he raked his fingers through his hair.
“Ava,” he called, making his way towards me.
My first inclination was to cover my breasts. But… if I had my arms crossed over those, how was I supposed to cover my ass?
“Hey,” I mumbled. “What’s up?”
“Day-um, girl,” he said, studying me. He even craned his head. Ugh. “Looking good, Wyman.”
I smiled nervously. “You know Shannon?”
She grinned like a mental patient, extending her hand out. Dash smiled and took it. “What’s up?”
“Hi,” she breathed. “Aren’t you in a band?”
He looked over to me. “Well, sometimes, I guess. I hate practice, so I get kicked out a lot.”
“Oh… cool,” she responded.
How was that cool? It just sounded like slacker behavior to me.
“So… Wyman. What are you doing after school?” Dash kicked my shoe with his.
“Working. Why?”
“Yeah? Where do you work?”
I ran my shoe through the grass. “Why?”
He laughed. “God, just curious. Where?”
“Musicland.”
“Yeah? That’s cool… working at a record store.”
“I guess.”
“Alright. Well, maybe we can do something tomorrow then,” he added.
“Working tomorrow too.”
“Jesus, Ava, you’re 16.”
“So?”
“Nothing. Just seems pretty motivated, I guess.”
Coach Shelbrook blew the whistle. “In line, people.”
Dash looked at me, smiling. “Later, Wyman.”
“Later, Walker,” I teased.
***
After class, Shannon walked me to my locker. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Where’s your locker?”
“Mmm, south wing. I’m an A.”
I gave her a puzzled look. “An A?”
“Yeah. Shannon Arden. Alpha order. Well… bye.”
W. Alpha order.
Walker. Wyman.
Just as I grabbed my bag and shut the metal door, Dash was there. “Need a ride?”
“I’m okay. I’ll get the 3:30 bus.”
“To the mall? That’s ridiculous.” He worked the lock on the door two down from mine and retrieved a leather jacket, no books. “Let’s go.”
***
My shift started at 4; I had about 20 minutes to spare. Dash and I sat in his car, listening to music. “You like DK?” he asked.
“Yeah, but I’m more DM than DK.”
“DM?”
“Depeche Mode. I like synth stuff.”
“Huh,” he said, smiling at me. “Well, I’ll forgive you for your horrible fucking taste in music.”
I reached for the door handle. “See you tomorrow, Dash.”
“Wait! I was kidding. Jesus.”
I turned towards him. “I know, but I do have to go.”
“You still have fifteen minutes.”
“See ya.” I turned the handle and faced him for a second, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “Thanks again… for the ride.”
***
Dash and I had developed a new ritual. I got home from the mall around ten after eight each night. He called me at 8:15 and we talked until almost 9. My mother was less than pleased, tugging on the long cord that I always stretched into the little bathroom.
“Ava, two minutes,” she barked, the same warning every evening.
I usually stretched it into five. Every minute on the phone with Dash was worth any punishment she could dole out.
He wasn’t my boyfriend. We hadn’t even hinted at that. Still, that didn’t stop my blood from boiling when he called… or my stomach from fluttering when I saw him in the hallway. I wanted him more than I’d wanted anything in my entire life.
The way he treated me, though, was… well, confusing. He rarely called me “Ava.” Always “Wyman” or “Wylie.” It seemed more like the nicknames he used for George or Dave. I definitely thought that we were slipping into a different category. I tried to flirt… it just wasn’t me.
So, when he told me on the phone that he was thinking of asking Sarah Wells to the prom, I was crushed.
I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to go myself. I just really didn’t want him going with her. Sarah was barely a few inches shorter than most of the boys with a body that went on for days. She was in my art class, constantly flipping her big, teased cherry-red hair, pulling it up into elastic bands, showing off a small tattoo of a daisy on the back her neck. She was the only 16 year-old girl I knew with a tattoo. It just seemed so… grown up.
“Oh,” I whispered, trying to sound encouraging. “That’s great.”
“Yeah? You think she’ll say yes?”
Of course she would.
“Dash, of course she’ll say yes. If she doesn’t, she’s a fucking idiot.”
He laughed. “Well, who are you gonna go with?”
Oh God. He was so oblivious. “I probably won’t.”
“Yeah, you are. Dave’s got a hard-on for you. He was hoping that you didn’t have a date. You’ve gotta go with him.”
“I don’t think so.” I liked Dave, honestly. I just couldn’t go with him… staring at Dash while he danced with Sarah Fucking Wells all night.
“Then it’s settled. We’ll all go together.”
“What part of ‘I don’t think so’ did you not get? I don’t want to go with Dave.”
“Why?” he asked.
Ugh. Did I have to tell him? “I guess I was waiting for someone else to ask.”
He paused, breathing out slowly into the receiver. “Tom Keats?”
“No.” Eww.
“Justin Schiller?”
“Stop. It’s no one.”
“You just said…”
“Well,” I clipped, “It’s almost nine. My mom’s flipping out. See you later.”
“Wyman…”
I clicked the receiver, ending the call. My mother sat in the kitchen, doing a crossword. “Ava? You okay?”
“Yeah.” I joined her at the table, laying my chin on top of my hands. “Boys suck.”
“Yes they do,” she answered, peering over at my father in the other room. “Who was that?”
“Dash.”
“Again?”
“Yeah. I’m tired. I’m gonna go to bed, I think. Night, Mom.” I stood and turned.
She put her pen down and squeezed my hand. “Come here for a second. Sit down.”
I faced her for a second, sitting in the chair beside her. “Is he worth it?”
“Who, Dash?”
She nodded.
“I guess. I feel totally excited when we’re together. But he doesn’t see me like that. He just sees me like a friend, I think. I don’t know how that’s ever going to change. And the prom is in a few months… he said he’s going to ask Sarah Wells… he wants me to go with Dave, but I just feel…”
“Listen, honey,” she said, cutting me off. “Dash is sweet. He’s fun. He’s certainly cute and charming. But… you’re 16. You’ll find a million guys just like him in your life. Wait for the one who wants you back.”
I knew she was right. “Mind if I make one more quick call?”
She picked up her pen. “Two minutes.”
I flipped through the phone book and looked up the only Ticknor in Long Beach. I took a breath and dialed the number. “Hi, is Dave home?”
An elderly woman responded. “David?” she called.
“Gran, hang up,” I heard him call to her. There was a loud crackling on the line before it was just the two of us. “Hello?”
“Hey, Dave… it’s Ava.”
“Ava. What’s shakin’?” God, he was casual. Like always. Was he ever nervous?
“Yeah, I was talking to Walker today and he said that you didn’t have a date for the prom. I guess he was going to ask Sarah, but then he wanted to know who I was asking… then he told me you might not have a date…”
He cut me off. “Fuck yes. Are you asking me to go?”
“Well,” I continued, “I guess, if you want to. Dash said maybe we could all go together or something.”
“How could I possibly say no to the hottest girl in school? Sign me up.”
***
Sarah and Dash were becoming quite the couple. He still called me every night, but things were definitely changing between us. I was sure they were having sex, but there was no cool way to ask him that.
I turned to Dave instead. He and I had been spending a lot more time together, even taking me on a few dates here and there. Real dates, too. Movies, pizza, walks through the neighboring golf course at night. Those were my favorite.
One Thursday, on the eighth hole, Dave changed things between us, leaning in to kiss me. Besides a few near-misses, I had never really kissed anyone. He was comfortable. There were no actual sparks like I’d read about, but he took his time. He moved slowly, keeping his lips soft… no tongue, cupping the back of my neck with his hand.
He pulled back after a minute and looked at me. “Is this cool?”
“I think so,” I murmured, straightening my glasses. “Yeah.”
“It’s cold,” he said, rubbing his fingers against mine. “Let’s go back up the hill.”
He took off his leather motorcycle jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. Leaning in one more time, he placed a kiss on my lips. “I’ve been thinking about this since we met.”
I smiled, embarrassed. I wasn’t crazy about him… didn’t feel the connection like I had with Dash, but he was with Sarah now. “Dave… do you think that Dash and Sarah…?”
“Are fucking?”
God, Dave.
“Uh, yeah,” I answered.
“Walker hasn’t said anything, but he’s not really one to talk. They came to my house last Saturday. She spent half the night rubbing his dick through his pants.”
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, trying to sound casual. “They probably are then.”
“Eh, who’s to say? His mom was gone all weekend and they came to my house instead of staying there. If he was gonna ball her, he could have just stayed at home.”
Ball her? Jesus, Dave.
We were getting close to my house now. “I can walk from here.”
“You sure? It’s just a block.”
I pulled his jacket off of my shoulders and handed it to him. “I’m fine. See you Saturday for the thing.”
I couldn’t even say prom. I didn’t even want to go. I’d bought that short, black dress with one person in mind.
Dash.
Dave leaned in and pressed a kiss on my cheek. “I can’t wait.”
***
Dash pulled up in his Chevelle a few minutes after six. I watched them through the window as he and Dave walked to my door.
I pulled it open and smiled at the two of them. “Hi, guys.”
Dave stepped forward first, kissing me on the cheek and handing me a clear, plastic container. A single red sweetheart rose was attached to a black elastic band. I opened it and snapped it on my wrist. “Thanks. It’s really pretty.”
Dash was wearing all black. Black fitted jacket. Black tuxedo shirt. Black tie (not a bow). Black fitted pants. Black Doc Marten boots.
Fuck me.
“Ava,” he whispered. “You look fucking amazing.”
I pressed my finger to my lips. “Shhh, don’t say ‘fuck.’ My mom’s in there.”
He mouthed FUCK! at me.
“Okay, you look freakin amazing.”
My mother rounded the corner. “David. Dashiell,” she said. “Don’t you two look wonderful? Have Ava home by 11.”
“Mom!” I squealed. “Seriously.”
“Fine. Midnight.”
She was a serious buzzkill.
Dash nodded his head. “Yes, Mrs. Wyman. Midnight.”
***
We picked up Sarah from her place, just a half mile down from mine. Dave and I waited in the car while Dash went to her door. When they came out, Sarah was dressed in a royal blue ruffled mini with a sweetheart neckline that was lined in matching lace. It was gaudy and cheap looking. She had to have been going to the tanning bed as well, her skin tinted in orange. It highlighted the fact that she had a full mouth of horrible fucking frosted lipstick on. Dash had his arm around her waist.
God, what did he see in her?
Her hair was piled high with a thousand curls and blue ribbons, her dumb fucking daisy tattoo prominent.
He was pure, fucking punk rock. He was supposed to be with me.
All of this was for him. Pale skin, cherry lips, eyes lined heavily in espresso powder. Hair neatly parted in the center, carefully pulled into a pristine, yet messy, knot. Black spiked stud earrings. Crushed velvet four-inch heels.
Instead, here he was… with her.
***
I watched them together. She leaned in often, pressing her lips against his… biting his neck. Yet, his eyes spent half the night glued to mine.
He broke away from her, coming to my side. “Can I talk to you for a second, Wyman?”
“It’s Ava,” I clipped.
He took my arm at the elbow and walked into the quiet hallway. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been fucking weird ever since we picked Sarah up.”
“Do you love her?” God, I didn’t want to know the answer.
“What?”
“You heard me, asshole.”
“What the fuck is going on, Ava?”
“You’re clueless. I want to go home. Can you just… take me home? You know, better yet, I’ll just call my mom. Do you have a quarter?”
“Ava,” he whispered, pushing me gently against the locker. “Is this about Sarah or is this about me and you?”
“What’s the difference?”
“Is there something going on with us? You’ve never even said that you liked me, but you’re totally wound up around Sarah. Either you really don’t like her or you want me.”
I pushed his chest, fighting back impending tears. “Fuck you, Dash.”
He leaned in close, pressing his warm lips to mine. I turned my face, letting a few tears escape. “Just stop,” I whispered.
“Let’s go,” he said, pulling his keys from his pocket.
“What about Dave and Sarah?”
“I’ll go back in and talk to Dave. I’ll tell him you’re sick. They can get a ride with George.”
He opened the doors, letting a burst of music into the hallway before getting quiet again. A minute later, they opened again and he grabbed my hand, leading me to the parking lot. He let me in the passenger side door and quickly made his way to the driver’s seat.
Starting the car, he turned to me. “Kiss me, Ava.”
I looked down at my hands, kneading my fingers together. “I can’t,” I said, choking on my words.
“Why?”
“Because I can’t be the girl you want tonight and don’t want tomorrow.”
He leaned in close and pressed me against the door. “Kiss me, Ava.”
I clutched his neck, and pressed my lips to his.
“Two.”
“Three or four?”
“Um,” I said, hesitating. “Four.”
“One or two?”
“Two.”
“Okay, Miss Wyman,” Dr. Hill muttered, jotting something down on a notepad. “Looks like someone needs new glasses.”
Of course. I always needed new glasses. Fucking blind as a bat since I was four years old. I couldn’t wear contacts either. My eyes were “shaped like footballs” or something ridiculous.
“Alright,” I whispered, climbing out of the leather chair.
“Good news is, you get new frames. That’s cool, right?”
God, I hated adults. Seriously? New frames? Why would that be cool?
“Go see Jane out front. She’ll fix you right up.”
Jane Walker had worked at Dr. Hill’s office for as long as I could remember. She was sweet and quiet. “Well, hi, Ava. Let’s try on some frames, huh? What color are we looking for?”
“Black,” I told her.
She eyed me up and down, taking in my attire consisting of a black tank top, black mini, black fishnets, and black 20-eye Doc Marten boots. “Yep, just like my son.”
Ugh. Yeah, we teenagers are all just alike.
She fitted me in several styles while my mom sat next to me, judging every pair.
Honey, those are a little strange.
I finally settled on a pair of thick, matte black ones that she really hated.
“So,” Jane continued, “Starting school next week, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Junior?”
“Yeah.” I wasn’t much for small talk.
“Just like my Dash. Going to Elston?”
“Mmhmm. First year.”
“Oh. Where did you transfer from?”
“Marquette.”
I left out the part where I was on academic probation all year. Walter Wyman wasn’t a man to fuck with. He wasn’t going to waste his money on a child who clearly didn’t want to learn. My mother enrolled me at Elston earlier in the month.
“Ah. Well, you’ll do better in public school anyway. There are more kids like you, I would imagine.”
“What do you mean?” I shot her a look.
“I just mean that private school isn’t very welcoming for creative types. You’re a creative type, I can tell. I’m going to tell my Dash about you. You have to meet. You just have to. Two peas in a pod, I’m telling you.”
I wanted to die. Just shrivel up in that waiting room and wait to be swept under the carpet. And what kind of douchebag name was “Dash” anyway?
“Yeah, sure,” I replied. I tugged at my mom’s purse strap. “You ready?”
***
I had nothing to wear. Nothing.
I finally settled on a black, fitted Cure t-shirt and a short black skirt. It was ridiculously hot, so I forfeited hosiery and wore my black low-top Chuck Taylors. I knotted my long, blonde hair into two buns on the sides of my head, securing them with black, lacquered chopsticks. I slid on my new glasses and pushed them into place. My mom dropped me off in front of school, giving me an awkward squeeze from the driver’s seat. “Have fun, baby.”
I died a little bit inside that morning.
The bell rang; I sat in the back, chewing on the cap of my pen. I had my notebook open but, if I was being honest, had no intentions of actually taking notes. Come on. It was my first day.
A boy sat in front of me. He was tall, over six feet… black, silken hair falling just below his chin, wearing a fitted black t-shirt with the Exploited logo on the back.
Maybe public school was for me.
He lowered his head to his notebook, scratching in it with a pencil. I wondered what he was so focused on.
“Sherry Anderson?”
Madame Baumgarten began calling the roll; I studied the room for interesting (or familiar) faces.
“Dashiell Walker?”
The boy in front of me raised his pencil up, but his eyes never left the page. Holy shit. Jane’s son?
You have to meet. You just have to.
“Ava Wyman?”
I raised my pen as Dash craned his head around. He had a sly smile on his face as he looked (a little too closely) at me. I stared at the Formica tabletop, embarrassed. He turned back to his notebook and tapped his pencil on the edge.
When the bell rang, I headed out to the hallway, staring at my schedule. A deep voice grumbled behind me.
“Hey.”
I turned around. Dash Fucking Walker.
“Hey,” I said back, trying to sound ultra-casual. No, I’m not lost.
“Ava Wyman.”
Seriously? He knew my name?
“How do you know that?”
“You sat behind me in French… like five minutes ago. Besides, my mom told me about you.”
“Yeah?” I countered. “What did she say?”
He smiled and leaned against the wall. “She said that there was a new girl starting school and that she wanted me to be part of the welcoming committee. She said that you were cute, blonde, wore black glasses… and that your name was Ava Wyman.” A smirk spread across his face.
“Huh. Well, I’ve gotta go to class. See you around.” I clutched my book and started to head down the hallway.
“Meet me out by the fence. Lunch.”
I turned on my heel to face him. “What?”
“Welcoming committee, remember?” He put his hands in the pockets of his jeans and gave me one last look before turning away.
***
I clutched my history book and slowly walked over towards the fence. I saw Dash there, from a distance, sitting on a low, brick wall. He was smoking a cigarette. I hated smoking, but I could seriously make an exception for this guy.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey. Guys, this is the lovely Ava Wyman. She’s new here today. These douchebags are George and Dave.”
George was tall, about the same height as Dash, but with a curve to his body, not unlike a girl. Dave was shorter, about the same as me, with long brown hair, halfway down his back. He had a great smile, nodding his head at me.
“Ava… what’s up, girl? Damn, you’re tall.” Dave said, extending his hand to grip mine.
“Yes,“ I joked, “I come from a long line of Amazonian supermodels.”
“Seriously?”
“No,” I deadpanned.
George nervously stared at me. Dash punched him in the upper arm; George flinched. “It’s a fucking girl, numskull.”
Dash laughed. “Sorry, he’s not used to girls making their way to the fence.”
I was shocked that every girl wasn’t on that fence. Dash was crazy beautiful, the kind of beauty that was seriously intimidating.
I sat on the wall, looking over the faculty parking lot. “Want a cigarette?” Dash asked.
“No, thanks. I don’t smoke.”
He nodded. “Smart girl. I shouldn’t.” He nudged me as I studied my afternoon schedule. “Where are you going now?”
“Um, I have world history next and then P.E.” I groaned internally. Fucking P.E.
“With Shelbrook?”
Shelbrook. 2:29.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Why?”
He laughed, throwing his head back. “Fuck yeah! We’re in the same class!”
My heart sank. We had to wear a uniform to P.E. A tight uniform.
“Oh.” I gathered my books. I had to get away from him. In a few short hours, he would see me in that uniform and that would be it for our little flirtation.
I had inherited a few things from my father’s side of the family. A world-class jiggly ass and a D-cup. Gross. Small waist or not, there was no hiding any of that.
“Where are you going?” Dash asked, standing when I did.
“I gotta roll. I have to stop by the office before class.”
“I’ll go with you,” he said, picking his bag off of the wall and slinging it over his shoulder.
“No, stay. It was nice meeting you guys.”
Dave and George both nodded to me. Dash looked visibly confused, but fished a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, his eyes following me as I walked away.
***
The locker room was full of noise, girls practically screaming at one another to be heard over the echo of the metal lockers. I sat on the edge of the bench, slowly pulling my shorts up over my hips. The top was bad enough; a gray “Elston Physical Education” logo on the front stretched tight across my breasts… but the shorts? They were indecent. I was practically physically sick as I tugged at them.
I knew what boys thought. When girls had a body like mine, it meant that they were easy. I had one boyfriend in my life. For one week. We didn’t even hold hands.
“Hey,” a tiny red-haired girl whispered. “You’re new, right?”
“Yeah. I’m Ava.”
“Ava. Cool name. It’s like old-fashioned, kinda. I’m Shannon.”
Shannon was petite, like me, with fiery box-dyed hair and a straight smile. Her hands drifted to her thighs, obviously trying to cover them.
I smiled back at her. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hey, we should hang together for class, you think?”
“Sure,” I answered.
“Can you believe these fucking uniforms? They’re made for junior high kids, I think.” She tugged at the hem of her shorts, trying to pull them down.
“I know,” I sympathized. “My tits are gonna break free any second.”
“Ugh. At least you have tits. God decided to bless me with a fat ass and a size A cup.”
“I’m fairly certain that God didn’t have anything to do with my fat ass. You should see my Aunt Linda.”
She smiled and choked out a laugh. “Let’s hope all the guys in this class are fucking dorks.”
They aren’t.
“Mmm,” I agreed. “I know one guy in our class. I met him this morning. Dash Walker?”
Her eyes got big. “He’s like a punk fucking God, right? Go figure he would be in this class.”
“Yep. He’s pretty cute, right?”
“Um… duh. He doesn’t even like date girls from this school. Like, he has girlfriends in Chicago or something.”
I swallowed. “Oh. He has a girlfriend?”
“I don’t really know. I just heard that he’s like king dick of the club scene or something.”
“What club scene?”
“Like punk shows… whatever. I wouldn’t know because my stepmom’s a fucking asshole. She doesn’t let me go anywhere. I don’t even have a car.”
“I don’t either,” I told her.
“Well, let’s make a pact to meet hot boys with cars. That way, we’ll always have a ride.”
I smiled at her as we made our way outside to the field.
Fucking P.E.
***
Dash stood in the field talking to some guy in a red football jersey. He had an ease about him as he raked his fingers through his hair.
“Ava,” he called, making his way towards me.
My first inclination was to cover my breasts. But… if I had my arms crossed over those, how was I supposed to cover my ass?
“Hey,” I mumbled. “What’s up?”
“Day-um, girl,” he said, studying me. He even craned his head. Ugh. “Looking good, Wyman.”
I smiled nervously. “You know Shannon?”
She grinned like a mental patient, extending her hand out. Dash smiled and took it. “What’s up?”
“Hi,” she breathed. “Aren’t you in a band?”
He looked over to me. “Well, sometimes, I guess. I hate practice, so I get kicked out a lot.”
“Oh… cool,” she responded.
How was that cool? It just sounded like slacker behavior to me.
“So… Wyman. What are you doing after school?” Dash kicked my shoe with his.
“Working. Why?”
“Yeah? Where do you work?”
I ran my shoe through the grass. “Why?”
He laughed. “God, just curious. Where?”
“Musicland.”
“Yeah? That’s cool… working at a record store.”
“I guess.”
“Alright. Well, maybe we can do something tomorrow then,” he added.
“Working tomorrow too.”
“Jesus, Ava, you’re 16.”
“So?”
“Nothing. Just seems pretty motivated, I guess.”
Coach Shelbrook blew the whistle. “In line, people.”
Dash looked at me, smiling. “Later, Wyman.”
“Later, Walker,” I teased.
***
After class, Shannon walked me to my locker. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Where’s your locker?”
“Mmm, south wing. I’m an A.”
I gave her a puzzled look. “An A?”
“Yeah. Shannon Arden. Alpha order. Well… bye.”
W. Alpha order.
Walker. Wyman.
Just as I grabbed my bag and shut the metal door, Dash was there. “Need a ride?”
“I’m okay. I’ll get the 3:30 bus.”
“To the mall? That’s ridiculous.” He worked the lock on the door two down from mine and retrieved a leather jacket, no books. “Let’s go.”
***
My shift started at 4; I had about 20 minutes to spare. Dash and I sat in his car, listening to music. “You like DK?” he asked.
“Yeah, but I’m more DM than DK.”
“DM?”
“Depeche Mode. I like synth stuff.”
“Huh,” he said, smiling at me. “Well, I’ll forgive you for your horrible fucking taste in music.”
I reached for the door handle. “See you tomorrow, Dash.”
“Wait! I was kidding. Jesus.”
I turned towards him. “I know, but I do have to go.”
“You still have fifteen minutes.”
“See ya.” I turned the handle and faced him for a second, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “Thanks again… for the ride.”
***
Dash and I had developed a new ritual. I got home from the mall around ten after eight each night. He called me at 8:15 and we talked until almost 9. My mother was less than pleased, tugging on the long cord that I always stretched into the little bathroom.
“Ava, two minutes,” she barked, the same warning every evening.
I usually stretched it into five. Every minute on the phone with Dash was worth any punishment she could dole out.
He wasn’t my boyfriend. We hadn’t even hinted at that. Still, that didn’t stop my blood from boiling when he called… or my stomach from fluttering when I saw him in the hallway. I wanted him more than I’d wanted anything in my entire life.
The way he treated me, though, was… well, confusing. He rarely called me “Ava.” Always “Wyman” or “Wylie.” It seemed more like the nicknames he used for George or Dave. I definitely thought that we were slipping into a different category. I tried to flirt… it just wasn’t me.
So, when he told me on the phone that he was thinking of asking Sarah Wells to the prom, I was crushed.
I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to go myself. I just really didn’t want him going with her. Sarah was barely a few inches shorter than most of the boys with a body that went on for days. She was in my art class, constantly flipping her big, teased cherry-red hair, pulling it up into elastic bands, showing off a small tattoo of a daisy on the back her neck. She was the only 16 year-old girl I knew with a tattoo. It just seemed so… grown up.
“Oh,” I whispered, trying to sound encouraging. “That’s great.”
“Yeah? You think she’ll say yes?”
Of course she would.
“Dash, of course she’ll say yes. If she doesn’t, she’s a fucking idiot.”
He laughed. “Well, who are you gonna go with?”
Oh God. He was so oblivious. “I probably won’t.”
“Yeah, you are. Dave’s got a hard-on for you. He was hoping that you didn’t have a date. You’ve gotta go with him.”
“I don’t think so.” I liked Dave, honestly. I just couldn’t go with him… staring at Dash while he danced with Sarah Fucking Wells all night.
“Then it’s settled. We’ll all go together.”
“What part of ‘I don’t think so’ did you not get? I don’t want to go with Dave.”
“Why?” he asked.
Ugh. Did I have to tell him? “I guess I was waiting for someone else to ask.”
He paused, breathing out slowly into the receiver. “Tom Keats?”
“No.” Eww.
“Justin Schiller?”
“Stop. It’s no one.”
“You just said…”
“Well,” I clipped, “It’s almost nine. My mom’s flipping out. See you later.”
“Wyman…”
I clicked the receiver, ending the call. My mother sat in the kitchen, doing a crossword. “Ava? You okay?”
“Yeah.” I joined her at the table, laying my chin on top of my hands. “Boys suck.”
“Yes they do,” she answered, peering over at my father in the other room. “Who was that?”
“Dash.”
“Again?”
“Yeah. I’m tired. I’m gonna go to bed, I think. Night, Mom.” I stood and turned.
She put her pen down and squeezed my hand. “Come here for a second. Sit down.”
I faced her for a second, sitting in the chair beside her. “Is he worth it?”
“Who, Dash?”
She nodded.
“I guess. I feel totally excited when we’re together. But he doesn’t see me like that. He just sees me like a friend, I think. I don’t know how that’s ever going to change. And the prom is in a few months… he said he’s going to ask Sarah Wells… he wants me to go with Dave, but I just feel…”
“Listen, honey,” she said, cutting me off. “Dash is sweet. He’s fun. He’s certainly cute and charming. But… you’re 16. You’ll find a million guys just like him in your life. Wait for the one who wants you back.”
I knew she was right. “Mind if I make one more quick call?”
She picked up her pen. “Two minutes.”
I flipped through the phone book and looked up the only Ticknor in Long Beach. I took a breath and dialed the number. “Hi, is Dave home?”
An elderly woman responded. “David?” she called.
“Gran, hang up,” I heard him call to her. There was a loud crackling on the line before it was just the two of us. “Hello?”
“Hey, Dave… it’s Ava.”
“Ava. What’s shakin’?” God, he was casual. Like always. Was he ever nervous?
“Yeah, I was talking to Walker today and he said that you didn’t have a date for the prom. I guess he was going to ask Sarah, but then he wanted to know who I was asking… then he told me you might not have a date…”
He cut me off. “Fuck yes. Are you asking me to go?”
“Well,” I continued, “I guess, if you want to. Dash said maybe we could all go together or something.”
“How could I possibly say no to the hottest girl in school? Sign me up.”
***
Sarah and Dash were becoming quite the couple. He still called me every night, but things were definitely changing between us. I was sure they were having sex, but there was no cool way to ask him that.
I turned to Dave instead. He and I had been spending a lot more time together, even taking me on a few dates here and there. Real dates, too. Movies, pizza, walks through the neighboring golf course at night. Those were my favorite.
One Thursday, on the eighth hole, Dave changed things between us, leaning in to kiss me. Besides a few near-misses, I had never really kissed anyone. He was comfortable. There were no actual sparks like I’d read about, but he took his time. He moved slowly, keeping his lips soft… no tongue, cupping the back of my neck with his hand.
He pulled back after a minute and looked at me. “Is this cool?”
“I think so,” I murmured, straightening my glasses. “Yeah.”
“It’s cold,” he said, rubbing his fingers against mine. “Let’s go back up the hill.”
He took off his leather motorcycle jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. Leaning in one more time, he placed a kiss on my lips. “I’ve been thinking about this since we met.”
I smiled, embarrassed. I wasn’t crazy about him… didn’t feel the connection like I had with Dash, but he was with Sarah now. “Dave… do you think that Dash and Sarah…?”
“Are fucking?”
God, Dave.
“Uh, yeah,” I answered.
“Walker hasn’t said anything, but he’s not really one to talk. They came to my house last Saturday. She spent half the night rubbing his dick through his pants.”
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, trying to sound casual. “They probably are then.”
“Eh, who’s to say? His mom was gone all weekend and they came to my house instead of staying there. If he was gonna ball her, he could have just stayed at home.”
Ball her? Jesus, Dave.
We were getting close to my house now. “I can walk from here.”
“You sure? It’s just a block.”
I pulled his jacket off of my shoulders and handed it to him. “I’m fine. See you Saturday for the thing.”
I couldn’t even say prom. I didn’t even want to go. I’d bought that short, black dress with one person in mind.
Dash.
Dave leaned in and pressed a kiss on my cheek. “I can’t wait.”
***
Dash pulled up in his Chevelle a few minutes after six. I watched them through the window as he and Dave walked to my door.
I pulled it open and smiled at the two of them. “Hi, guys.”
Dave stepped forward first, kissing me on the cheek and handing me a clear, plastic container. A single red sweetheart rose was attached to a black elastic band. I opened it and snapped it on my wrist. “Thanks. It’s really pretty.”
Dash was wearing all black. Black fitted jacket. Black tuxedo shirt. Black tie (not a bow). Black fitted pants. Black Doc Marten boots.
Fuck me.
“Ava,” he whispered. “You look fucking amazing.”
I pressed my finger to my lips. “Shhh, don’t say ‘fuck.’ My mom’s in there.”
He mouthed FUCK! at me.
“Okay, you look freakin amazing.”
My mother rounded the corner. “David. Dashiell,” she said. “Don’t you two look wonderful? Have Ava home by 11.”
“Mom!” I squealed. “Seriously.”
“Fine. Midnight.”
She was a serious buzzkill.
Dash nodded his head. “Yes, Mrs. Wyman. Midnight.”
***
We picked up Sarah from her place, just a half mile down from mine. Dave and I waited in the car while Dash went to her door. When they came out, Sarah was dressed in a royal blue ruffled mini with a sweetheart neckline that was lined in matching lace. It was gaudy and cheap looking. She had to have been going to the tanning bed as well, her skin tinted in orange. It highlighted the fact that she had a full mouth of horrible fucking frosted lipstick on. Dash had his arm around her waist.
God, what did he see in her?
Her hair was piled high with a thousand curls and blue ribbons, her dumb fucking daisy tattoo prominent.
He was pure, fucking punk rock. He was supposed to be with me.
All of this was for him. Pale skin, cherry lips, eyes lined heavily in espresso powder. Hair neatly parted in the center, carefully pulled into a pristine, yet messy, knot. Black spiked stud earrings. Crushed velvet four-inch heels.
Instead, here he was… with her.
***
I watched them together. She leaned in often, pressing her lips against his… biting his neck. Yet, his eyes spent half the night glued to mine.
He broke away from her, coming to my side. “Can I talk to you for a second, Wyman?”
“It’s Ava,” I clipped.
He took my arm at the elbow and walked into the quiet hallway. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been fucking weird ever since we picked Sarah up.”
“Do you love her?” God, I didn’t want to know the answer.
“What?”
“You heard me, asshole.”
“What the fuck is going on, Ava?”
“You’re clueless. I want to go home. Can you just… take me home? You know, better yet, I’ll just call my mom. Do you have a quarter?”
“Ava,” he whispered, pushing me gently against the locker. “Is this about Sarah or is this about me and you?”
“What’s the difference?”
“Is there something going on with us? You’ve never even said that you liked me, but you’re totally wound up around Sarah. Either you really don’t like her or you want me.”
I pushed his chest, fighting back impending tears. “Fuck you, Dash.”
He leaned in close, pressing his warm lips to mine. I turned my face, letting a few tears escape. “Just stop,” I whispered.
“Let’s go,” he said, pulling his keys from his pocket.
“What about Dave and Sarah?”
“I’ll go back in and talk to Dave. I’ll tell him you’re sick. They can get a ride with George.”
He opened the doors, letting a burst of music into the hallway before getting quiet again. A minute later, they opened again and he grabbed my hand, leading me to the parking lot. He let me in the passenger side door and quickly made his way to the driver’s seat.
Starting the car, he turned to me. “Kiss me, Ava.”
I looked down at my hands, kneading my fingers together. “I can’t,” I said, choking on my words.
“Why?”
“Because I can’t be the girl you want tonight and don’t want tomorrow.”
He leaned in close and pressed me against the door. “Kiss me, Ava.”
I clutched his neck, and pressed my lips to his.
