Fallout (43 page)

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Authors: Ellen Hopkins

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Family, #General, #Orphans & Foster Homes, #Social Issues, #Adolescence, #Drugs; Alcohol; Substance Abuse

BOOK: Fallout
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SHE DENIES THAT TOTALLY

Whatever the future holds
,
I will always be here for you.
I made that commitment a very
long time ago
, she claimed.

We were shopping for her wedding

gown. Waiting for the sales-

lady to bring out another dress

to view. Size six. Off the shoulder.

I could have picked out the dress

she eventually chose without her

even being there. I know her. Too

well. Will I know her next year?

Nothing will really change
that much
, she promised.
Except
I’ll be living with Liam, and
I’m kind of doing that now.

True. Other than wedding stuff,

I hardly see her at all. Which gives

me much too much time alone,

thinking about my own future.

ABSORBED BY STATUS QUO

I never really thought very far

beyond the day-to-day. Next year

I’ll graduate high school. Then what?

University? Doubtful. Community

college? Maybe. But I still have no

idea what I want to be. Teacher?

I can’t imagine spending my days

trying to keep kids in line, let alone

trying to teach them something.

Astronomer? I actually love scouring

the heavens, imagining what might be

out there somewhere. But how do you

make money doing that? Doctor?

Blood makes me sick. Stockbroker?

Yeah, right. Some tedious job seems

the likely road, and routine might work

best for me. But will it bring happiness?

Fulfillment? I don’t even know if that matters.

Beyond “what will I do,” where will I live?

I can see Grandfather failing, though

he’d never admit it in a million years,

especially not to himself. If he gets sick,

I’ll take care of him, like he’s taken

care of me. But if he dies … what?

My fingers begin to tingle. I’m alone

now, as I’ll be alone then, swallowed

by silence. I rasp razor-edged air.

On my own. Don’t want to be there.

Can’t breathe. On my own. Must.

Breathe. On my own …

SUDDEN FOCUS

Buzz.
Silence.
Buzz.
Silence.

What? Doorbell. My head clears

with a deep breath. Doorbell?

Bryce. “Just a second,” I call

loudly. Don’t leave! I’m here.

And now he is here with me.

I go to the door, trying not to

look as pasty faced as I feel.

An exercise in futility.

Are you okay?
are the first
words out of Bryce’s mouth.
You don’t look so good.

“I’m fine now you’re here.” I pull

him over the threshold, close

the door quickly, so the neighbors

don’t notice I have a visitor. I want

it to be our luscious little secret.

Grandfather and Aunt Cora

are in Austin, scouting Baptist

churches that might be available

for an hour or so on short notice.

With dozens in the phone book,

odds are they’ll be gone all day.

Hours, anyway, providing the perfect

opportunity to spend some quality

one-on-one time with Bryce.

We’ve never been quite so alone

together. His arms surround me,

and I sink into him, grateful for

his warmth. “I love you.”

And I love you.
His mouth covers
mine. His lips are soft, and his tongue
tastes of cinnamon. My heart rockets.

This kiss is somehow different than

all the others. It builds in intensity,

and with no one around to take

notice, I have no reason to slow

the swell. Bryce’s apple-rain scent

envelopes me. I gulp it in. Devour it.

Want to devour him. What sorceress

has possessed me, infusing every

nerve ending with intense desire?

SORCERY OR HORMONES

Something
has
possessed me,

and whatever it is,
it
stops

kissing Bryce. But only long

enough to say, “Come on.”

It
leads him down the hall,

into my bedroom. I think

I should stop
it
. Don’t know

if I can. Don’t know if I want to.

Autumn (me?) has no control
as
it
invites Bryce onto my bed.
He pushes me back against
my pillow. Peels away his shirt.
Unbuttons mine. Stares down
at me with love (lust) harbored
in his eyes.
Wow
, he says, before
kissing me again. Only this time,

his lips move across my neck,

down over my collarbone. To

the soft mounds beneath. I want

to say, “Wait.” But
it
won’t let me.

I can barely catch my breath, but

this time for all the right (wrong!)

reasons. My heart jackhammers

in my chest. Bryce must hear!

His lips stop traveling my torso,

long enough to encourage me

out of my jeans. His come off too,

and I might stop to fold everything

correctly, but
it
insists I just leave

our clothes heaped together

and take a good long look at Bryce.

Except for sex ed pictures, I’ve never

seen a penis before. But I’m def

seeing one now. “No,” I want

to say. But
it
reaches out. Touches

Bryce there. Likes how the skin

feels. Likes the heat. “Stop,”

I want to say, but
it
makes Autumn

(me?) do things she doesn’t know

how to do. I realize suddenly that

it
means to make her go all the way.

This is like watching a movie, only

I can’t find the remote. No way

to pause. No way to reverse.

Off go my panties. Now everything

moves slow motion. Finally I find

my voice. “Wait. I’m not sure …”

It
doesn’t let me push him away,

but
it
does let me say, “I’m a virgin.”

THAT SLOWS HIM DOWN

But he doesn’t want to stop.
Instead he becomes gentle.
You want to, don’t you?

I want to say, “Maybe not,”

but
it
maintains control,

kisses him. “Yes. I want to.”

I won’t hurt you
, he promises.
Let me make you ready.
He touches that place.

Kisses that place.
It
moans.

No, Autumn moans. No, I moan.

And I see that
it
is really me.

REALLY ME

Here with Bryce,

wanting to give

him all of me.

I’m scared.

But he has made me ready.

“I love you.”

The words spill

from my mouth

just before

a bright flash

of pain.

Breathe.

He is in me when he promises again,
And I love you.
Did it hurt?
Can I keep going?
He waits

for my answer.

“Not too much.

And yes.”

He starts to move.

Slowly at first.

Rhythmically.

I follow his lead and together

we move faster.

Into the tornado.

Rocked by an

apple-scented

maelstrom,

skin to skin

with the person I love, every vestige

of doubt vanishes

in white-hot bolts

of lightning.

No pain now.

No sense

of wrong.

Everything is perfect.

WE LIE TOGETHER, SILENT

For a while, legs knotted,

his fingers twisted in my hair.

A foreign scent lifts from our

skin. After-sex perfume.

Not altogether unpleasant.

Eventually he says,
We should
probably clean up. Ever
showered with a guy before?

For some crazy reason,

embarrassment attacks.

I’ve just gone all the way. And

suddenly I’m worried about him

seeing my naked body? “Never.”

Whether it’s the tone of my
voice or the look on my face,
he grins.
First time for everything.

The sheets are a mess, and I

am compelled to strip them

immediately. Hope OxyClean

can handle it. Meanwhile,

Bryce has started the shower.

By the time I get there,

the bathroom is rain-forest

steamy. We step into the shower

together. Hot water streams

over my bruised, used body.

Bryce picks up the soap.
You wash my back and I’ll
wash yours.
He washes more

than my back. And I do

the same for him. It’s all so

decadent, all so someone

other than me. I’d call it fairy-tale,

but it’s more like pornography.

Would you look at that! It’s
ready for more already.
You are some kind of magician.

I’m not sure how long it usually

takes for it to get ready again,

but it definitely is. I don’t think

magic has anything to do with

it. Just a good lather rub. And me.

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