Chapter 9
When my mom’s boyfriend shut the door, I took a deep breath, trying to choke down the hurricane spinning inside me. I counted to ten, but the heat between my legs didn’t let up. I jumped up and locked the door with shaky hands, like that could hold back my own craziness. I was slick, buzzing with electricity. I wanted to do it all over again, show off, tease, get devoured by those hungry eyes from that man who shouldn’t want me.
What the hell had gotten into me? It was like some wild spirit had taken over my body, steering every bold move.
The morning dragged by in a whirlwind. I couldn’t settle down. I kept thinking about Matheus — my stepbrother. I had to see him that afternoon. But I couldn’t just bail from the house without some excuse.
My cousin, my loyal partner in crime for all my escapades, was my way out. I called her up and spilled it all at once:
“I’m gonna meet up with Matheus today.”
“Direct as hell.”
“And?”
She laughed, already knowing where this was headed.
“I wanna give it to him, and you’re gonna cover for me!”
She cracked up on the other end, turned on by the confession.
“Go for it! I want all the details later — I’m in class, so tell your mom you’re meeting me at the tutoring center.”
My mom wouldn’t grill me too much, as long as I came home without reeking of booze or smokes. That was the rule. But today I wasn’t heading downstairs to help with lunch. No way in hell. I didn’t have the guts to face my stepdad.
That’s when a thought hit me that sent a chill down my spine: what if he’d spilled everything to my mom?
But I chilled out quick. He’d be screwed if he opened his mouth, ‘cause I’d spin a totally different story. That certainty gave me this weird kind of power, but it also stabbed me with a twinge of guilt. I’d always thought he was a decent guy. Better shove that thought aside.
I headed to my room, straight to the closet. I needed to figure out what to wear. I stared at the mess of clothes tossed everywhere and muttered under my breath:
“What do girls wear when they wanna fuck?”
I sighed.
I’d never fucked.
I picked out a black lacy thong. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was the closest thing I had to “sexy.” The problem hit when I realized I didn’t have a matching bra — they were all basic, picked just for comfort and to keep the straps from showing under my top. I sighed in frustration.
I laid out the clothes carefully and tossed a few condoms I’d scored at school into my bag. I got ready like I was heading into battle, even if it was a war of nerves and anticipation.
The rest of the morning was this long ritual of prep. I ran through everything I knew in my head — which, to be honest, wasn’t much. I ended up googling tips on how to fuck for the first time without it hurting, plus what to do if the condom broke. Every click ramped up my panic, but pretending I had it under control was my only play.
When the time came, I grabbed some books and walked to the door.
“I’m meeting my cousin.”
I tried to sound casual.
My stepdad gave me a blank look, while my mom yelled the usual:
“Be good! What time you coming back? Where you headed?”
He was acting like nothing happened, and that gave me this weird relief. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my cool, and headed out of the house with a bit more guts, yelling back answers to my mom over my shoulder as I crossed the threshold.
One bus ride later, I pulled up to his place. It wasn’t far — just another one of those suburban houses with a low gate that’s always open. The kind of spot where everything feels out in the open for the world to see.
I hustled through the yard, heart pounding. From the porch door, I called out for him, voice low and edgy. I felt like a criminal, desperate to slip in without being spotted.
As soon as the door cracked open, I basically barged inside, dodging the nosy neighbors’ eyes. He looked at me with a mix of shock and surprise, probably thinking: “This girl’s straight-up crazy to fuck!”
“Dude, if they catch me coming here, I’m toast!”
I said it with a nervous laugh.
“Chill, you want some water?”
He offered, trying to calm me down.
We headed to the kitchen, where the heat still hung heavy, but at least it was a break from the scorching sun. The chat stumbled along, full of shy laughs and awkward pauses. I wanted to push things, ask straight-up when he was gonna make a move, beg for a kiss just to kick something off. But nothing happened.
He seemed tense, going quiet sometimes, not knowing what to say. Funny, ‘cause over text and with my cousins, he’d talk your ear off. Here, with me, he was locked up.
“Matheus, can’t you turn on the AC in your room or something?”
I asked, wiping sweat off my forehead.
“My dad would kill me if I did it during the day.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Seriously, Matheus? I think he’d kill you for something way worse than the damn AC being on, right?”
I threw it out there, challenging him.
The room was cramped, stifling. A messy little cube where the stink of teenage funk and dirty clothes mixed with the sour tang of cheap deodorant. A small desk took up space with a gamer PC blinking useless colored lights, clashing with the beat-up wardrobe falling apart at the seams. The only spot to sit was the bottom bunk of the loft bed, sheets all tangled with greasy bedding stained from sweat, or the gamer chair all torn up and sagging in the middle like it’d held too much weight already.
Tacked onto the room, a half-assed addition my stepdad had thrown together tried to pass as a bathroom. It was so tiny two people couldn’t fit in there at the same time.
Pacing in that cube was impossible… And there he was, standing so close I could feel his heat, his short breaths. My body was already burning with impatience. I was done with the hesitation. No more wasting time. I threw my arms around his shoulders, pulled his body against mine with no room for doubt, and kissed him. Kissed him hungry, full of want, sure as hell he wouldn’t have the balls to pull back.