Текст книги "Resentment"

Автор книги: Nicole London

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Chapter 7

MIA

On Christmas Eve, my house is packed with my mother’s side of the family. They’re all congratulating me on the Harvard acceptance every few seconds and my mom is doing her best to pretend like she and I are so damn happy. (We’re even wearing matching holiday sweaters.)

“Do you still do art, Mia?” My aunt asks. “What happened to that painting you were working on the last time we came?”

“She never finished it.” My mother answers for me, passing me a bowl of mashed potatoes. “She realized that art wasn’t her thing. Thank god, you know? Remember when I thought I knew how to sing in college?”

“Oh, well that’s okay, Mia,” my aunt says. “At least you knew when to quit. It would’ve been awkward to have to hang your paintings around the house anyway. You know your mom only likes to look at the best of things. She’s high class like that.”

Everyone around the table laughs and I push my chair back. “Can I be excused for a moment? I need to get something out of the kitchen.”

My mom waves me away and I quickly rush into the kitchen and grab my phone. I’m not sure what I was thinking when I left it out of reach, and I immediately text Autumn.

MIA:  Can you please come save me?  Like, NOW?  I feel like I’m stuck in the Christmas from hell.

AUTUMN:  Can’t...I’m trapped in my own version of Christmas hell. My mom just found out that I’m not a virgin and she’s giving me the abstinence speech. (Wait...Are you still a virgin? O_o )

MIA:  Damn...Sorry.   (What? Of course, I am! Why wouldn’t I be?)

AUTUMN:  She wants me to sign a contract saying that I won’t have sex again until I’m 21.  BAHAHAHA!  (Because of who you’re dating :-) We’ll see how long THAT lasts!)

MIA:  Okay, wait. How did she find out? (He promised me that we wouldn’t have sex, so it’ll be lasting a long time.)

AUTUMN:  She found an empty condom wrapper in my purse. God, now she’s bringing  out some “The Dangers of Sex” brochures. (No, he promised you that he wouldn’t PUSH you into having sex. Big difference!)

MIA:  Ew. Where is Jacob? (Trust me, we’re not going to have sex :-) )

AUTUMN:  He’s actually under my bed right now :-) (I’m willing to bet my life on the fact that you will. And SOON.)

My mom walks into the kitchen and I quickly slip my phone into my pocket.

“Do you plan on rejoining everyone else or are you going to hide in here for the rest of dinner?” she asks.

“Depends...Is Eric coming? Did you finally decide to call him and personally give an invite?”

“Really, Mia?” She scrunches up her face. “You’re going to bring him up on Christmas Eve?”

“Him? You say that like he’s some type of stranger. He’s my older brother, and he also happens to be your son.”

“No, he was your brother. He made the decision to be a social deviant and turn his back on us. Until he makes some major changes to his personal psyche, he’s not welcome here.”

“His ‘personal psyche’? It’s been four years.”

“Well, let’s try to make it four more years and see if he’ll finally come to his senses.”

“Mom—”

“Now is not the time, Mia. We have guests. We can discuss this in private later.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

“Of course, I don’t.” She picks up a stick of butter “So, can we please focus on having a nice holiday with the people who actually cared enough to show up tonight, please?” She walks out of the kitchen.

I pull a plate out of the cabinet and load it with food, walking up the back staircase and locking myself in my room. I know she won’t come up here and ask me to come down. She’d never cause a scene.

I devour my dinner, put on my headphones, and shut my eyes—swearing to God that I’ll get the hell away from her the second I graduate.

***

I’ve slept through the eggnog making, the family home-video-watch marathon, and the “You can open one gift before midnight” tradition. It’s the middle of the night and all of my aunts and cousins are tucked away in guest rooms, while my mother speaks to one of her most anxiety prone clients in her home office.

I tiptoe downstairs to get a piece of cheesecake and then I come right back, burying myself beneath my blankets again.

Just as I’ve gotten the blanket to cover my feet at exactly the right angle, my phone buzzes with a text. Dean.

DEAN:  Merry Christmas. Are you awake right now?

MIA:  Merry Christmas. Nope.

DEAN: Good. I need you to go somewhere with me. (I also have a present for you...)

I look at the time and rub my eyes, knowing he can’t be serious right now.

MIA:  It’s 1:00 in the morning! What could possibly be open at this hour? (What type of present? And hey...you totally stole this from Autumn...)

DEAN:  The swimming pool at the country club by my house. (I’ll show it to you when I see you...And yeah, I did. It’s actually quite useful. :-) )

DEAN:  How long will it take you to get ready?

MIA:  Whoa, whoa, whoa. You want us to go swimming in the WINTER?!

MIA: Fifteen minutes :-)

DEAN:  It’s an indoor pool :-) I’m around the corner already. Let me know when you want me to drive over and get you.

I lay in bed for a few seconds longer, soaking up the last few moments of my perfect blanket warmth. I want to message something else sarcastic to Dean, but before I get the chance, another text from him comes through.

DEAN:  Yes. I expect you to swim with me.

I smile and get up, searching for my swimsuit. When I locate it, I quickly undress and put it on, but there’s no way I can wear this out with him. It’s an ugly brown one piece with faded red polka dots and he might take one look at it and volunteer to bring me right back home.

Ugh...

I slip out of my room and quietly step down the hall to my mother’s room. I find a box full of her many unopened bikinis from her incessant shopping days, and take out two: A red and a black one.

Returning to my room, I put on the red one and after one glance in the mirror, I immediately take it off.

Too much cleavage. Gives the wrong impression.

I try on the black one and it’s even worse. There’s pushup material in the bottom of the top and it makes my C cups look like Ds. Before I consider telling Dean that I won’t be coming, I can practically hear Autumn’s voice in my head.

“It’s a bikini, Mia. Showing off your body is like, the whole point.”

I put on a long-sleeved T-shirt, a hoodie, and a coat. Then I send a quick text to Autumn, letting her know where I’ll be, just in case something happens.

DEAN:  Do I need to come to your front door?

MIA:  No! I’ll be coming out of the dining room window. Do not park in the driveway!

DEAN:  You have to sneak out?

MIA:  Clearly. Park your car up the street.

A few minutes later, I head downstairs and into the dining room. I shut the French doors so no one will hear me opening the window. When I’m sure all is clear, I push up the glass and slowly climb outside.

When I’m all the way out and have secured the glass again, I see Dean laughing and standing exactly where I told him not to be.

“How old are you? Do you really have to sneak out?” He laughs. “You’re eighteen and your mom apparently likes me. Was that really necessary?”

“It’s still one o’clock in the morning, Dean. I don’t think any mom would be okay with that.”

“Maybe not.” He pulls me against his side and walks me to the passenger side of his car. “Am I going to have to do that every time I want to take you out?”

“No, just after midnight.” I smile.

He shuts my door and we fall into our familiar, comfortable silence as he drives. I spot a small red, shiny box on his dashboard and assume that’s my gift, but I don’t say anything about it.

Half an hour later, he pulls into an empty parking lot of what appears to be a country club.

“What are we doing here?” I ask. I was expecting a hotel pool, or something less illegal.

“I used to lifeguard here over the summer. The members get to come and go as they please.”

“Okay, but you’re not a member.”

“No, but my dad is.” He puts the car in park and grabs the red gift off the dashboard, handing it to me. “Open it.”

“Not until I give you yours,” I say. “I left it in my closet.”

“Open it, Mia.” He kisses me. “Now.”

I hesitate, but I oblige. I slowly pull at the ribbon and let it fall into my lap before unwrapping the box. I look at him before flipping the lid open and smile when I see what’s inside.

It’s a silver necklace with three charms: A guitar, a paintbrush, and a car. Beneath that are three black, spiral notebooks with a post-it note on top: “To make up for the one I “stole” –Merry Christmas, Mia. –Dean.

I run my fingers along the charms and look into his eyes. “Thank you very much.”

He takes the necklace from my hands and motions for me to lean closer so he can put it on for me. He holds it up to me, but he kisses my neck and softly bites my skin before he even attempts to clasp it.

“There...” He secures it and runs his fingers against the car charm before getting out of the car.

As a slight snow falls over us, he pulls me close and leads me to the back entrance of the club.

It takes him a minute to get his dad’s keycard to work, but when the door finally gives way, he pushes me inside first.

My jaw drops as I take in the lobby.

The place doesn’t look like anything that belongs in our small town. The floors in the lobby are a sparkling white marble and two massive fireplaces are ablaze, giving a slight glow to the space.

Dean takes my hand and shows me past the dining hall, wine bar, gymnasium, and spa. He swipes his key at a set of double glass doors and when they swing open, I find myself in front of one of the largest pools I’ve ever seen.

A light steam is rising from its depths, and the colossal floor to ceiling windows that surround the room, are slightly foggy from the heat.

Dean lets my hand go and starts to undress, but I just stand there, looking around.

I look around the room for cameras, but I don’t see any. Still, I step back from the edge of the pool.

“Are you going to join me?”  Dean asks as he gets in the pool, wearing only his swim trunks.

“What if security comes?”

“We’ll say hello.” He smiles. “I doubt they will, though.”

“I don’t know about this...” I take another step back.

“Trust me.” He leans against the edge. “My dad is a member and everybody knows me here, Mia.  There won’t be a problem.

“Alright.” I realize how sincere he looks. “Turn around so I can take off my coat and stuff.”

“I’d rather not.”  He’s staring at me with complete focus. He’s definitely not turning around.

I unbutton my coat and place it on the bench. Keeping my eyes on Dean, I pull my shirt over my head and untie my sweats, letting them fall the floor.

My bikini is on full display, and I’m tempted to put my coat on over it again, but I hold back and simply stand still.

Dean’s eyes travel from my eyes down to my bare stomach, over my legs and back up. A small smile dances across his lips.

“Are you going to get in now?” He extends his hand and I step closer, taking it.

He helps me into the water, and without saying a word, asks me to swim to the other end with him.

I keep up with him for the most part—stopping every now and then when he splashes me, but we arrive at the other side seconds apart.

As I’m catching my breath, he steps in front of me and backs me against the edge.

He continues to stare as if he’s struggling with something. He’s looking at me like he wants me, like there’s nothing in life that he wants more.

“I love your lips,” He says, rubbing his thumb against my bottom lip in a circular motion. “I’ve thought about kissing them since sophomore year.”

His mouth latches onto mine and his hands are skimming down my sides. His lips are soft and the kiss is warm. I feel like I can get drunk off the taste of him.

His hands go around my waist. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around him. I can feel his erection through his shorts, pressing up against my thigh.

One of his hands continues to hold me up while the other goes to my pony tail, gently pulling me forward so he has better access to my neck.

As he trails light kisses along my collarbone and around the base of my neck, his free hand slowly unties the string of my bikini top.

“I don’t think this was a good idea,” he whispers, kissing my breast through the fabric. Then he pauses, looking up at me. “I think we should stop. I need to take you home.”

I look back at him, my heartbeat racing so loudly I’m scared he can hear it. “What if I don’t want you to stop?”

“What?”

“I said, I don’t want you to stop.”

He’s quiet for a moment and then that familiar smile is back. “I’m not going to have sex with you in a pool, Mia. And I think you need to let me take you home before you do something you’ll regret.”

“I’m not going to regret anything,” I say. “I really don’t want you to stop.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but I beat him to it.

“I’m not going to regret it, Dean.” I repeat. “I’m really not.”

He gives me a brief kiss on the lips, and I can see that look from minutes earlier in his eyes. He re-ties my bikini top and we swim back to the other side of the pool.

As soon as we get there, he helps me out of the water and dries me off. He takes extra time to dry my hair as much as possible and helps me back into my clothes before addressing himself.

We rush back outside to his car and he drives to his house. (He takes the short way.)

“Do I need to wait for you to go inside first?” I ask as we pull into his driveway.

“Not at all. We don’t have to climb through the window, and my dad’s gone as usual.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and kisses me before opening his door.

Leading me up to his room, he turns on a standing lamp. He looks me up and down and pulls me into his arms, kissing me softly.

“I would stay with you regardless of if we had sex or not,” he says against my lips, biting my bottom lip before I can respond. “Do you know that?”

I nod, unable to speak with the way he’s kissing me.

“So, are you sure you want to do this?” His arms tighten around me.

I nod again, but he pulls away from my mouth.

“I need you to say yes, Mia.” He looks into my eyes. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes...”

He lets go of me and spins me around so my back is to his front. He grabs the hem of my hoodie and slowly pulls it over my head. He handles my T-shirt next, tossing it onto the floor, and then he pulls on the string of my bikini top, ever so slowly.

Sliding the bikini fabric down, he trails long, sweet kisses against my collarbone, making me moan with each touch of his tongue. His fingers expertly untie the strings of the bottom, and the second the bottom hits the floor, he spins me around to face him.

Exposed, I look away —blushing as I stand there completely naked.

He presses a hand against my cheek and tilts my head so I can face him again. “Don’t do that...It’s just me.” He keeps his eyes on mine as he slips out of his shirt and shorts, and my eyes travel down, seeing his cock for the first time, how huge it is. I feel my eyes widening, as I continue to stare at it.

Oh my god... I blush.

He lets out a soft laugh, and then he grabs my hand, he walks me over to his bed and lays me onto it.

“I need to ask you something personal.” He slowly moves on top of me, rendering me speechless as he kisses me again. “Is that okay?”

“Yes...” I moan as he swirls his tongue around my nipple.

“This may be presumptuous, but...” He blows against my skin. “Are you a virgin?”

I nod, trying to read his expression, but he gives nothing away.

Instead, he takes his time kissing his way down my body—trailing kisses against my neck, breasts, and stomach. He swirls his tongue against my belly button and rubs his hands against my thighs.

Looking up at me, he slowly slips one finger inside of me—slowly pushing it in and out. He kisses my stomach again and then, without warning, he blows a warm kiss against my pussy.

I gasp as he does it repeatedly, as he slips another finger inside of me and spreads my legs a bit wider.

I can feel how wet I am against his fingers. The way his fingers are going in and out of me is making me arch toward him. I don’t want him to stop what he’s doing. It feels so good.

He opens a condom and puts it on, and then he leans over me. “You are so fucking beautiful, Mia.” His lips find mine and he kisses me more gently than he ever has before.

Putting his hands on my thighs, he positions his cock and then he slowly pushes himself inside of me.

I shut my eyes as he forces himself deeper, as I feel a mix of pain and pleasure.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispers. “Do I need to stop?”

“No...No, don’t stop.”

He slides into me until he’s completely inside and then he grabs my hands, entwining them with his.

“Mia, look at me.”

Even though I still feel kind of shy, I open my eyes and stare back into his.

Not saying anything else, he slowly moves in and out of me, making me moan with every stroke, making me squeeze his hands tighter.

“Dean...” I whisper as he speeds up a bit. “Dean...”

“Yes?”

I moan even louder as he kisses my lips. Even though Autumn has told me about her first time, this is not what I expected. She had told me about the pain and everything, but she didn’t adequately describe how good the other part would feel.

As our rhythm starts to get even faster and deeper, I start to feel my body molding to his and tingles running up and down my spine.  It feels so good, and his soft kisses are making me moan even louder.

“Ahhh...Dean...” I shut my eyes as he squeezes my hands one last time and stiffens on top of me. He kisses me as he comes, being careful not to collapse on top of me, as I still adjust to how he feels inside of me.

Several seconds later, he pulls out of me and tosses the condom away in the trash next to the bed.

I’m unable to speak. I’m unsure of what to even say.

“Are you okay?” He lays next to me and drapes his arm around me. “Mia?”

I stare up at the ceiling.

“Mia?”

I still say nothing, so he flips a switch on the night-stand’s lamp.

“Mia, talk to me.” He rolls me on top of him.

I smile, still speechless.

“Mia, what are you thinking about?” He kisses me, looking completely concerned. “Tell me...”

“I’m thinking that I’d like to do that again.”

Chapter 8

MIA

It’s been four days since that night at Dean’s place, and I’m lying in my bed staring at the ceiling, happily thinking about how we had sex three times and each time felt better than the last. I may now be more obsessed with sex than Autumn. (Okay, no, that’s impossible.) I thought we would get a chance to do it again at his place today, but the football team is three counties over for a holiday scrimmage against West High.

Autumn is supposed to come over later so I can tell her all about it over homemade s’mores, but that may get awkward since she said her mom is coming along with her. (She’s apparently not allowed out of her mom’s sight for the rest of senior year.)

Regardless, if I can’t tell her about the sex part, I can tell her about the way Dean kissed me when he dropped me off in the early morning hours of Christmas. How he helped me climb back inside the window, and before it shut completely, he asked me to be his date to prom.

It didn’t take me more than a second to say yes.

I roll across my bed and replay the memory again and again. It’s not until hours later that I get contact with the outside world again via a text from Autumn.

AUTUMN:  Change of plans. (Ugh.)

MIA:  What’s wrong? ( : -(  )

AUTUMN:  My mom says I can’t come to your place. She’s taking me to Bible Study instead. (She also raided my underwear drawer and left me with only white and beige panties :-/ )

MIA:  OMG, seriously? (I have no words.)

AUTUMN:  Yeah, now I’m counting down the days until high school is over. Now that you have a free day, what are you going to do?

MIA:  Hang around at home, I guess...Dean has a game  tonight.

AUTUMN:  Okay so...Why don’t you go to the game?

MIA:  It’s three counties over.

AUTUMN:  A one hour drive if you take McClellan Lane. (Don’t text me until you’re there and acting like a real girlfriend) (Okay, no. You can definitely text me. I’ll need a distraction during my “return to Jesus” moments at church tonight.  BAHAHAHA!)

I laugh and quickly get dressed, grabbing the keys to my mom’s old car. I’ve only driven it a few times when I needed to run a quick errand, but I figure since she’s at work, I’ll be back before she returns.

I pull off and take the long way to West County—being sure to drive in the slow lane the whole time. As I approach a red light, I consider going back, maybe texting Dean and asking if I can meet him at his house tonight instead, but something tells me to keep going.

It takes me one and a half hours to find the stadium, and when I get there, the players haven’t even taken the field. Both Central High and West High teams are sitting in the bleachers, laughing and talking with one another, acting as if they’re not going to compete against each other later tonight.

I walk past them, looking for Dean, but he isn’t there. I head down to the underside of the bleachers, and see him and his Dad.

I start to step back, to try and get out of sight, but his green eyes immediately meet mine.

“Don’t fuck this up, Dean.” His dad hits him in the chest. “Do. Not. Fuck. This. Up.” He hisses at him and storms off, muttering a string of curse words with his every step.

I stand there, unsure of what to do, and then Dean walks over to me.

“What are you doing here?” He puts his arm around my shoulder.

“I wanted to see you...Are you okay?”

“No.” He looks down at me. “Not at all.”

“Something I can do to help?”

“You just did.” He kisses me, holding me tighter than he’s ever held me before. “How did you get here?”

“I drove my Mom’s car.”

“Would you mind if I drove it to take us back?”

“Sure. After the game?”

“No, right now.”

“What?”

“Now.” He starts walking me toward the parking lot. “The game is on hold for weather anyway. Too much ice, so I’m sure they’ll be cancelling it.”

“What about your teammates?”

“They know,” he said. “Don’t worry about them. Which car is it?”

“The red Corolla over there.”

He walks me over to it and I hand him the keys.

“Thank you.” He says, kissing me and opening the door for me.

“For what?”

“For continuing to be the only person in my life I can actually trust...” He shuts my door and slides behind the wheel, speeding away. As he drives through the counties, I notice his phone ringing, notice the word “Dad” appear on the screen.

He picks it up, looks at it, and tosses it into the backseat. “I’ll deal with that later. Where do you want to go?”

***

Later that night, he waits until my mom is gone to her latest psychiatric conference before he comes over. He follows me up to my room and pulls me onto the bed.

Kissing me, he tells me I’m the best part of his day.

“You’re the same,” I say, breathlessly.

“What’s this?” He grabs my unopened letter from Western Peak. “Isn’t this the school you actually want to go to?”

I nod, reaching for it, but he holds it higher.

“If you want to go so badly, why haven’t you opened it?”

“I’m scared it’s going to be a no.”

“But what if it’s a yes?” He looks confused.

“If it was a yes, they would’ve sent it in a bigger envelope, don’t you think?”

“No.” He sits up and pulls me against his chest. “The University of Pittsburgh sent me my acceptance letter in a postcard. When were you planning to open this?”

“After Christmas.”

“Christmas or Christmas break, Mia?” he asks. “If it’s the former, you’re already late. If it’s the latter, you have another week.”

“The latter, then.”

He gives me a look that say he doesn’t believe me.

“I’m serious, Dean. I’ll open it once school starts.”

“Okay, well I’ll open it for you now and then I’ll tape it back up so you can open it then.”

My eyes go wide and I try to stop him, but within seconds he’s ripped the envelope open and pulled out the letter.

I look away from him and sigh as he reads it, debating whether now is finally the time when I’ll finally need to thrash him.

“I hate that you just did that,” I say, still not looking at him. “I really hate that you didn’t ask me first.”

“You shouldn’t.” He kisses the back of my neck. “You got in.”

“WHAT?” I quickly turn around and grab the paper from him, reading the words for myself.

Full academic scholarship. Room and board coverage. Five-hundred-dollar book scholarship for the first four semesters.

My eyes catch the final paragraph and I almost kick myself for being so paranoid: “We like sending our acceptance letters in a simple fashion. Short, sweet, and to the point. We’ll send you a much more formal packet once we receive your acceptance.”

I burst into tears and Dean wraps his arms around me.

“Congratulations,” he says. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.” I look at him and he wipes away my tears with his fingertips. “Where are you going?”

“The school you don’t want to go to.” He laughs.

“Harvard?”

He nods. “It’s where I’ve always wanted to go. Best way to pursue law or law enforcement. Plus—” He wipes away more of my tears. “If you haven’t gotten rid of me by then, they have a summer program in Boston. I could see you in the summers.”

My heart drops at the thought that we only have one semester and a summer left together, but I try my best not to let it show.

As if he can tell what I’m thinking, he kisses me again and whispers, “We have plenty of time. Don’t think about it. Let’s just focus on making the most of what we have.”

“Okay.”

“How do you want to spend the rest of the night?”

“The same way we spent it the other night.”

“What?” He tilts his head to the side. “What other night?”

“The night at the pool.”

“So, you want me to take you swimming again?” He smirks. “That can be arranged.”

“No...I want to, you know.”

“I don’t know.” He leans forward and gently bites my bottom lip, tugging it. “Tell me.”

I blush as he slips a hand under my shirt and unclasps my bra. “You know what I’m trying to say, Dean...”

“It sounds like you want to have sex again and again, but I’m not sure.” He takes off his shirt. “That’s why I’m asking. Is that it? Do you want to fuck me again?”’

My eyes widen at his last question, but I love that he put it that way. “Yes...Yes, that’s what I want.”

“Good.’ He kisses me. “Lay back and grab the headboard.”

***

The remainder of winter break flies by in a mix of sex with Dean, late night sneak-outs, and several surprise gifts between us.

When the spring semester begins, we still hang out via tutoring afterschool and dates on the weekends, but our time seems more limited. Since the team made the state playoffs, the games are several counties away on some nights, and with Western Peak requiring that I submit a full portfolio before the fall, I find myself a bit more stressed about art than usual.

Dean is crowned Mr. Popular again, to no one’s surprise, (And someone must be playing a joke, because I’m crowned Ms. Popular), but I can’t help but feel that that sweet feeling that we developed during the fall and over winter break is slowly dissipating.

We don’t talk much after his games anymore. Our phone conversations last for a few minutes as opposed to hours, and that strange voice that was at the back of my head when we first started to talk?

Something is telling me that she’s getting ready to say, “I told you so...”