Two hours later I was curled up on my bed, listening to my parents fight downstairs about the bills. Even though it seemed like we had plenty of money, they always found something to fight about pertaining to money. I turned up the volume on my iPod and rolled over. Glancing at the clock, I noticed that it was eleven. I had school tomorrow that I was not looking forward to. I yanked out my earphones when my phone vibrated next to me. It was Peter.
“Hello?” I said groggily.
“Were you asleep?”
“I was working on it.” There was a loud crash downstairs, and then more yelling.
“Are your parents fighting?”
“I’m sorry you have to listen to that.”
“Hey, listen, I just wanted to say thank you for leaving Tyler to hang out with me.”
“It was no problem. Sorry I kind of got bitchy with you about the whole outfit thing.”
“It’s fine. It’s just…since you’ve been going out with him you’ve been changing a little bit, and I was just worried about you.
“Changing? Changing how?”
“Like, your clothes, for example.”
“That’s it? Just my clothes?”
“Do you really want to have this discussion?”
I debated it for a second before saying, “Not really, no.”
“Okay then, well, I was just wondering anyway. I didn’t mean to offend you in any way.”
“It’s fine, Peter, really.”
“Well, anyways. I hope you sleep well, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night, Peter. Love you.”
“I love you too,” he said, his deep, warm voice coming through clear over the line.
We both hung up, and I finally was able to drift off into a deep sleep.
The following Saturday I adjusted my long-sleeved shirt and ran a hand through my hair. Taking a deep breath, I got out of the car and walked up Tyler’s driveway. I still got nervous around him for some reason. It was as if I still couldn’t quite believe that we were going out. I knocked quietly on the door, and he immediately opened it with a smile. He looked hot in his jeans and a T-shirt. I stepped up to him and gave him a peck on the cheek. I started to keep walking, when he grabbed my wrist, turning back around to face him. Wrapping his arms around me, he pressed his lips to mine. I looped my thumbs through the loops on the waist of his jeans and kissed him back. After a second he let go and grinned at me.
“Now that was a hello,” he said.
I only smiled in return. Reaching up in my tippy-toes I gave him another peck on the cheek before making my way upstairs to his room. “So,” I said, glancing back at him. He was most defiantly checking out my ass.
“So,” he said.
“What movie are we going to watch?”
“What do you want to watch?”
“I don’t really care,” I said. Sometimes I wished that we would do things other than watching movies and cuddling on his bed. It was great and I loved it, but I would just like to do something more, oh, I don’t know, important. Not, like, so important, or not even very important. It could be as simple as just a walk in the park or hanging out at the ice cream store or just talking, something that would feel more important to me. I slipped off my shoes and climbed into his bed. He flipped off the lights, put in a movie, and got in next to me. Pulling me close to him, he rested his hands on my stomach. I closed my eyes as the movie began.
About an hour into the movie Tyler began kissing on my neck. I ignored it at first, half asleep, not paying attention to the movie. But as he began to grope me, I became increasingly uncomfortable. Squirming away from him, hoping he’d get the message, I tried to look concentrated on the movie. He immediately pulled me back to him. His hand pulled up my shirt, feeling the soft skin of my stomach. Running his hands down, he began to unbutton my pants. I was about to say something, to protest, when he gently grabbed my face and pulled me towards his. Crushing his mouth to his, he began to unbutton my jeans again. I tried to make a sound of protest, but he took it as a groan of pleasure. He started to grind himself against me. With his other hand he began pulling up my shirt even more. I suddenly pulled away and looked at him.
“What’s wrong, babe?”
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” he said, with that lazy grin of his, “just relax.” Pulling me back towards him he began to tug my jeans down. I was about to protest again, when his hand abruptly left my jeans and rested on the curve of my side. Starting to feel more comfortable thinking that was all, I kissed him back harder, running my hands through his hair. Without warning he pushed me on my back and rolled on top of me. He began forcefully pulling my jeans down. I started to sit up, when he gripped my wrists and put them over my head.
“Tyler,” I said, trying to break away. But he was kissing me in the next moment, while yanking down my jeans. I struggled, but he managed to get my jeans off. “Tyler,” I said, but he kissed me to shut me up. He started grinding harder against me, and tried to pull off my shirt. “Wait,” I said, trying to pull away.
“Shh,” he whispered into my ear, “relax.”
“No, Tyler, Stop,” I said firmly. I was extremely uncomfortable and I didn’t know why he was doing this.
“Just relax, babe,” he whispered, continuing to grind against me.
“Tyler, stop.” I had had enough. Forcefully yanking my wrists out of his grip, I began to try to squirm out from under him. His weight pressed me down into the bed, making it hard to move. “Tyler, get off of me,” I said in a firm voice.
“Babe, just relax,” he said soothingly.
“Get off of me, Tyler, now.”
“Just relax!” he said, sounding exasperated.
“No! Get off!”
Huffing, he rolled off me and slid off the bed. “What the hell?!”
“What do you mean what the hell? What’s wrong with you? What was that?” I said, infuriated.
“I’ve waited long enough!” he said, his face red and splotchy. His face wrinkled with anger and his lip curled in fury, I noticed how ugly he looked at that moment.
“Waited long enough? What? What the hell are you saying? Are you even hearing yourself right now?” I screamed at him.
“You’re such a prude!”
“You’re a prude!”
“You sick son of a bitch! That’s it! It’s done. We’re done! Go to hell!” I screamed. Yanking my pants off his bed, I slid back into them as he watched on in anger. Snatching my shoes off the ground, I stalked past him without another word.
“This can’t be a surprise!” he called at my retreating back.
“What can’t be?” I said, whirling around to face him, “You being a complete bastard?”
“No! Me wanting to have sex! Did you think I was going to wait forever! I was being so nice and I didn’t pressure you once! How long did you expect me to wait?”
He did not just say that. Narrowing my eyes, I walked back over to him, and stopped right in front of me.
“Nice? You son of a bitch, you better listen right now, okay? You ever try to talk to me again and I’ll make sure you regret it. Go to hell, Tyler,” I said. Without thinking, I slapped him, hard, across the face. He seemed surprised by this. But what he did next surprised me the most. He slapped me back. My face burning, I stared at him wide-eyed. He looked a little shocked about what he had just done. I shook my head once, laughed a hollow laugh, and turned around before he could see the tears streaming down my face. “Nice, Tyler, slap a girl. Do you feel good now? Want to know the real reason why I’d never have sex with you? One, because you’re a complete bastard, but two, because I’d never lose my virginity to the biggest joke of a guy there is.” With this, I walked out of his room, down the stairs, and out of the house, slamming the door for good measure.