Four months after Faye and I started dating, my life was exactly in the place where I had always wanted it to be. I had an amazing girlfriend, we were in love and happy. My friends didn’t know about us, except Scott. Scott pretty much noticed and one day when Faye and I were along he approached us and said “I called it!”
I also hadn’t told my parents for obvious reason. I wasn’t ready, and since Faye was my best friend, it didn’t change much in our relationship when it came to them. We still played Call of Duty in her bedroom and had pajama parties at mine. We watched bad movies and kissed through the most boring parts. Once, while we were kissing, I let my hand fall down onto her ass and she pulled away immediately to stare at me as if she were swallowing a laugh. I apologize and she cracked up.
My life was perfect. I had never been as happy as I was when Faye and I were together. When we were us. I would give anything, anything in the world to have that again.
But on Christmas Eve something started. I was speaking to Faye on the phone while getting ready to go down to have dinner with my family.
“But I hate this shirt.” I said with the phone on speaker while I put on the blue shirt my mom got me especially for today.
“I think you look beautiful.” Faye replied.
“You haven’t even looked at it.” I buttoned up the shirt and changed angles in front of the mirror.
“You’re my girlfriend, it’s my job to think everything you wear makes you look beautiful.”
I smiled, “Nicely done, Burton. Plus two points.”
“Thank you. I try.”
“By the way…” I changed my voice so it would sound deeper and go with the joke, “What are you wearing?”
I put on my jeans while I waited for Faye to answer “A black dress. I wish you could see it. It’s all kinda girly but also kinda badass.”
“Which means it’s kinda you.”
“Yeah!”
I heard my mother yell my name from downstairs, telling me dinner would be ready in ten. “Listen, baby, I’ve got to go, alright?”
“Yeah, me too.” While I reached for the phone, I heard Faye say “I love you, Riley.”
I smiled. We had said I love you so many times throughout our lives that when we started dating we started saying it without giving it much meaning. But that I love you didn’t mean ‘I love you, friend’. It meant you’re everything to me. I turned off the speaker and put the phone on my ear “I know. I love you, too, Faye.”
“We’re still up for tomorrow?”
“Pizza? Of course. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I hung up and went downstairs. My brother and my father were already sitting on the table. My dad didn’t really help with anything at home, my brother and I did but when my brother went into the kitchen, my dad would say “Kitchen is for the ladies, Connor. Let them do their job.” I don’t think he noticed how sexist that is. I sat next to my brother and asked him what he wanted from Santa. He said he was too old to believe in Santa. Excuse me, I believed in the big red man until I was thirteen. Yeah, yeah, don’t bully me.
Connor was eight at the time and he was already giving signs of the kind of man he’d become. To the point, direct, no sugar coating stuff.
I saw my mother bring the huge platter with turkey, the beautiful honey glazed ham she had to teach me because it was too good, and the cranberry sauce I made. My dad carved the turkey and game us each a huge piece of ham. We sat and held each other’s hands to give thanks. In many ways, my family looked like the classic, happy American family. The daddy, the mommy, the girl and the boy, sitting around the table on Christmas Eve eating turkey and ham while they thanked God for the amazing food and all the blessings in their lives. Of course, no family is like that. We all have some skeletons in our closets. Unfortunately, our skeletons started to poke their heads out that Christmas Eve.
My dad was complimenting my mom on the turkey, but he said the ham was a bit dry. I didn’t think so but to each its own. Connor and I on the other hand, just thank mom for the taking the time to make the most delicious dinner we had eaten through the entire year.
“Thank you, mommy.” We said at the same time.
It seemed to make her a bit happier than my dad’s compliments, because we didn’t say the ham was dry, we said it was perfect and delicious. Why couldn’t he just say a compliment without complaining about something else?
“Riley,” he called out. I raised my head “have you thought about what you’ll do once you graduate.”
“Honey, that’s not dinner conversation,” My mother pointed out.
“Of course it is.” He put a piece of ham on his mouth. I thought it was dry, dad. “She’s graduating in less than two years. Any ideas?”
I swallowed the huge piece of turkey in my mouth slowly, trying to dilate the answer. I was thinking about my future, actually, our future. Faye and I had a plan. Go to college in Portland, then I’d go to university and get a degree in computer science and she would paint for a living. We’d move to New York where her art could be appreciated and we’d rent a small apartment with a dog we’d name Chestnut. No kids. Not yet.
Of course, I wasn’t about to reveal that to my family. “I want to go to college in Portland. I want to get a degree in computer science.”
“Computer science? See, the girl has a plan!” my dad said, proud.
Connor felt left out of the conversation, so he jumped in a said “And I’m gonna be a pilot!”
“For the Air Forces? That’s great.” My dad said.
“Steven,” my mother interrupted him.
They both knew Connor meant an Airline pilot; travel the world, meet lots of interesting people. But there’s a catch, my father’s family has a long legacy about their first born men joining the army. His first born was a girl, but his second was a boy, so Connor had to join the army.
“Dad, that’s not what I meant” Connor pointed out what we all knew but refused to say out loud.
“Son, we’ve already talked about this. You’re joining the army, like your uncle, and your grandfather, and his father before that.”
“Dad, he’s too young. Come on.” I said.
“Exactly, he should know since he’s young. He’ll get used to the idea.”
“What’s wrong with you?” I yelled, too loud and too disrespectful for him to just let it slid.
“Riley Michelle Brenan, you don’t speak to you father that way.” He stood up; defying, ready, “Your brother will join the army because it’s my legacy. End of discussion.”
My mom jumped in and said “Please, this is not a conversation for Christmas Eve.”
I helped Connor stand up and told him to go to his room.
“He’s not going anywhere, we’re not done eating.” My dad said when he saw Connor going up the stairs.
Connor stopped and looked at me, I nodded and he reassumed his way up. After he’d closed the door of his bedroom I walked up to my father “Dad, come on. He’s just a kid, can you give him a break?”
“Riley, your brother needs to get used to the idea now.”
“Why?” I retorted “Why does he have to get used to the idea? Why can’t you just leave him alone and let him do with his life what he feels like doing?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“The men of this family have fought for your freedom. For us to be able to have a delicious turkey and jam around a table. Fighting for this country is an honor. My son is not going to be the first generation of Brenan men who don’t fight for that. He will not be a coward.”
It was stupid. Connor had to go try to get himself killed to prove to my father that he wasn’t a coward?
“Then why didn’t you?” I said knowing how much that hurt him “Why did Uncle Ron have to go? If you think it’s such an honor, why don’t you go? I’ll tell you why, because Uncle Ron never came back!”
That was the first time my dad had ever being physical with me. He slap me across the cheek, not too hard, but he still touched my face and I felt my cheek growing hotter and hotter. I looked at him in this believe as my mother jumped in and pushed him away from me.
“Steven! What is the matter with you?” she yelled.
I don’t know what came over me, I’d never been an aggressive person, but the way he kept forcing his frustrations onto my brother, the way he was planning on ruining his life just because his brother had died at war didn’t make sense to me. So I pushed my father and made him take a step back.
“Don’t you ever touch me again!”
My mom turned to me and said “Riley, don’t speak to your father like that.”
Seriously? Don’t speak to your father like that? Why do parents get to get away with mistreating their kids in the name of discipline yet we can’t even talk back?
My dad pushed my mom aside and pushed his chest up “What? What are you going to do? Come at me!”
I felt like punching him, but I couldn’t, mom would never forgive me. If I’d punched my dad, there was no going back from that one, so I pushed down the boiling sensation inside my body and my veins and breathed in. To stop the fight from escalating any further, I went upstairs into my bedroom and locked the door. My dad started pounding on it like he was going to bring it down. I felt a mixture of fear and anger inside me. I picked up my wallet, my phone and opened my window. It was freezing, but I wasn’t cold, the anger heated up my body. I sneaked out the window and headed for Faye’s house.
It was cold and dark and I didn’t bother to get a jacket. My ears were beginning to hurt when I saw Faye’s home with its Christmas lights and the little Santa outside on the porch, dancing. I didn’t want to bother the Burtons so I went out back. Once in their back yard I texted Faye telling her to meet me in our place. I put my phone in my pocket and headed for the small shed her father had built for her. Faye was complaining about how her room was too small and she couldn’t even have a desk in it, so her dad made her a ten-by-ten feet wooden shed on the back yard, with electricity, ventilation and a window Faye painted black to make sure no one could see what she was doing in there. She moved her PS, her TV, bought a fifty dollar sofa and a punching bag just for kicks. She also got herself a cooler that was mostly empty, unless we had agreed on meeting there and play videogames.
I used my keys to remove the padlock she locked the shed with and entered, then sat on the couch and opened the cooler to see if there was any Coke left. Of course there wasn’t. I placed my head on my hands trying to calm myself down, to rethink everything I had done. To regret the way I had spoken to my father. And also to remember how the door trembled every time he hit it.
Ten minutes after I sent the message, the shed’s door opened and Faye stood there, not getting closer to me. It’s something she always does. I can be a complicated person, so she gives herself time to examine me, to understand what I want and if what I want is for her to be with me but not close to me, she won’t come near me, but she saw that night that I needed to be hugged, so she sat next to me and held me.
I hugged her as tight as I could and we didn’t speak for some time. When I could breath again, she pulled away and asked “What happened, honey?”
I told her everything, everything about Connor joining the military, my dad forcing him, our fight, my dad almost kicking my door down. As I told her, I had to punch the punching bag to stop the anger from coming back. It didn’t work. The more I thought about it, the more I felt my veins boiling. After my story, Faye stood up and hugged me from behind, melting my anger away.
“I’m sorry, baby”
I turned around and kissed her, I knew what she was thinking and I hated myself for it “You think I have to apologize.”
“I think you both do. Fighting like this… it isn’t healthy, honey. I’ve never seen you this angry.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks for listening.”
She gave a sweet smile and replied “Always.”
She kissed me again, just touching my lips, just making contact at first, but my hands seemed to be moving on their own. I wrapped my armed around her back and she wrapped hers around my neck, pulling me closer. Our tongues met and I felt a curious warmth growing inside my stomach, my shoulders and my cheeks.
I lowered Faye onto the sofa and got on top of her with my hands trying to tour her body in places I had never felt before. I pulled her leg around my hips and when I started kissing her neck she whispered “Honey, stop.”
I looked up, worried. She wasn’t scared, or tensed, which was a relief. I sat up and looked at her “What? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, no, it’s just… Do you think we should be getting physical?”
“Only if you’re ready. If you want to.”
Faye smile shyly and said “I think we need to wait. I want our first time to be special, you know? Not after you had an argument with your dad and in a grimy shed.”
“Hey! The shed’s not grimy, I cleaned it up myself!”
She laughed “Only because I asked you to because you were the one that kept spelling everything on the floor.”
She laid down on the sofa, with her head on my chest and my arms around her body. I rested my cheek on her head and we stayed still.
Faye and I fell asleep like that, but at one in the morning, I had to start the way home. I couldn’t spend the night; it would only make things worse. She understood and asked me to be careful, it was late. She also instructed me to text her as soon as I got home. I kissed her goodbye and jogged home. The streets were empty and the jogging helped with the cold, but jogging on snow can be tricky. About a block away from my house, I tripped and fell cutting my arm. I never told anyone, but I still have the scar. You can still see it if you look closely.
That night I got home, sneaked into my room to find that my father hadn’t knocked the door down. Good news for me. I texted Faye I was okay and then got into bed thinking about how to apologize. Because I was going to have to apologize, even if he didn’t apologize to me. Which, as you can imagine, he didn’t.
Next morning I went for breakfast, said Merry Christmas and opened my gifts. My dad wasn’t speaking to me so my mother said they’d thought I would like some new clothes which is what they got me. I got mom a purse, I got dad a tie. They both seemed happy with it but things were too… awkward. So I apologized, he thanked me for it but said nothing else. I knew better than to ask for an apology. That was the end to that discussion. Or so you would think.
On February the 23th I woke up to a beautiful morning, with birds singing and the smell of fresh grass coming from outside. It was my birthday. I was turning seventeen. I took a quick shower, ran downstairs and yelled “Mom, come on! It’s getting late!”
“Honey, just calm your horses. You’re up early.” She said from the kitchen, fixing my lunch.
“I can’t help it. I’m seventeen today! And it’s gonna be awesome.”
“Remember we’ll see you kids at the pizzeria at three. Don’t be late.”
“No, don’t worry, mom.”
She finished packing my roast beef sandwich, my chocolate milk and my muffin. It was a birthday tradition since I’m eight; she would only pack me that lunch in my birthday. I grabbed the paper bag and kissed her on the cheek. She hugged me and told me how happy she was that seventeen years ago God had blessed her with such a wonderful daughter. She smile at me with pride and I left for school.
Mike, Louise and Bill got me a Guns and Roses backpack. Scott showed up with an acoustic guitar. I told him once I wanted to learn how to play the guitar and apparently he took it way too seriously. Faye just hugged me happy birthday and said she couldn’t give me my gift yet and I really didn’t care. Gifts are not the reason I love birthdays. It’s the union, the celebration with your closest and dearest.
After school we were supposed to meet my parents for pizza at Donnie’s. It was annoying having to walk around with the gifts but I was so thankful I didn’t mind, especially the guitar. We ate pizza, we joked, we had the most amazing time and at the end of the evening I thanked everyone for coming. Scott, Louis, Mike and Bill left on Scott’s car. My parents gave Faye a ride.
When we arrived at her place, she hugged me again and wished me a happy birthday. My mother asked her to say hi to her parents for her, Faye nodded and closed the door. I must admit I was a bit disappointed. Faye was acting a bit distant and I didn’t know what it was but it felt off. I even considered that maybe she didn’t… maybe she wasn’t interested in me anymore. Teenager insecurities maybe, but they were still very real.
We got home and my brother hugged me, then gave me an action figure. A Max Steel he loved. He gave that doll― sorry, that action figure to me as a sign of how much he loved me. My dad complained saying it wasn’t a gift for girls but I accepted it anyway.
At ten, when I was getting ready to go to bed, I got a text from Faye.
Special place. Fifteen minutes.
I frowned. I stood up and got dressed. I put on some jeans, a long sleeve t-shirt and my boots. The night was quiet, and the homes had their lights turned off already. I shoved my hands in my pockets and headed for the shed. Since the window was painted black, I couldn’t really see anything, except a shy glow coming from inside. I opened the door carefully, trying not to rush into whatever was waiting for me inside.
Faye was standing there, placing electric candles on the floor. As soon as she heard me open the door, she stood up and said “This is why I wanted to wait.”
She had spread rose petals through the entire place; she also lit scented candles and arranged everything for us…
“You made this?”
She smiled and I smiled back. We approached each other like we had all the time in the world to be together. I pulled her against me and kissed her, then to hide my cripplingly nerves I joked “Do you want to do it The Notebook style? We get awkwardly naked and have awkward sex and then pretend it was romantic?”
She laughed and shook her head. She kissed me again, harder this time. I felt her breath in my mouth, she was just as nervous as I was but we wanted to, we were ready. I slid my hands inside her blouse and pulled it up to finally remove it. I was afraid I might’ve been moving too fast, but she smiled and threw her arms around my neck. Her silky skin under my fingertips made my heart jump. She removed my t-shirt too. Feeling her shoulders against mine, her stomach against mine, her warmth… there is nothing quite like it.
We lain on the floor and removed the rest of our clothes with the awkward movements of insecurity. I ran my hands through her skin, tracing her curves. I could feel her body in constant motion; the beating of her heart, the bristling of her skin, she was so tempting, inviting, I thought I would cry in that moment. I placed myself between her legs, feeling her against me. She moaned from the pit of her stomach up to her throat, she moaned into my ear.
The night went by too fast for us to appreciate it. Afterwards, we stayed there, in each other’s arms. Gasping, with our skin sticky from sweat. I pulled her closer and asked the most awkward question of them all. I honestly would like to go back in time and not ask that question.
“How… how was it?”
She laughed “Horrible.”
“Faye!”
“I’m kidding. I don’t know. I mean, I felt great but I’ve never been with anyone else so I don’t know if it’s better or worse.”
“That’s not what I’m asking, I mean… was it… good for you?”
She grinned “It was amazing. You?”
“Same.”
“Happy birthday, Riley.”
I smiled and I counted myself as the luckiest woman in the world. I still think I was.
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