Ruining His Summer

Chapter Nine: The Discomfort of Secrets

 I felt a strong urge to change that.

“See ya,” I said to Erin and Peyton over the thumping music. They nodded weakly. They were paying more attention to the guy ripping his shirt over his head, and then getting trapped inside.

As I walked toward Rick, I could the shirtless wonder yelling, “Yo, guys! I’m stuck!” But judging from the deep laughter following this, his friends didn’t give a crap.

Rick took a drag, then a drink, and then another drag. It was like a little system he had going on. It wasn’t until I was close enough to inhale the smoke coming from his cigarette that he saw me there.

“Hey,” he said, pausing slowly. He was wasted, stumbling a slightly on his feet even though he hadn’t moved. “I didn’t know you were coming.” He held out his cig to me.  

I shook my head. “It was a last minute sort of thing.” So I edited the truth a little. I didn’t know I’d be coming this morning. “Are you having a good time?”

He pursed out of his lips with a shrug. “I guess,” he said, swirling his beer around. He held it up. “Beer’s good. You should get one.”

Rick was not the type to get girls drinks. Not if he knew them anyway.

“Maybe I will,” I said, walking around him. I wrapped my hand around the warm doorknob of the garage door. I smiled at Rick before I walked in, heels clicking.

Just like I thought, Rick didn’t hesitate to follow me in here, shutting the door behind him. Then I felt his rough hands under my sweater, caressing my skin, and pressing his sweaty neck into my shoulder as his moist lips touched my ear.

With my eyes closed, I turned around. My butt was knocked against a car, a side mirror pressing hard into my back. Rick pulled his hands out of my shirt and slid them into my hair, forcefully crashing his lips on mine.

Dull pain shot through my upper jaw.

“Ow,” I mumbled while I pulled away. My hand was touching my mouth, the pain beginning to dull slowly.

Rick blinked down at my lips. “What?”

His mouth knocked painfully into my teeth.

“Nothing,” I said, and I told myself that this happens with steamy make-out sessions. “Come on,” I commanded, pulling his lips back down to me.

He nibbled on my lip. While I ran my fingers down his chest, I tasted the cigarettes and beer. It was like familiar nectar to me.

“Here.” Rick pulled back suddenly, holding out his plastic cup, and a drop of beer sloshed out of the rim. “It’ll make this a lot better.”

I never said this, but I liked sex better sober. I liked remembering my nights with Rick and just remembering Rick in general. If any night of ours needed a beer, it would be the first night.

My first time wasn’t magically in any way. Rick isn’t the kind of guy you want for the first time. Now, I find him wild but to a younger, virgin me, he was rough and he didn’t wait for me.

It hurt more than he said it would. In the back of his car, in the Madison High parking lot, Rick told me it would barely hurt.  I’d just be a little sore tomorrow, but that was all, he said.

Never once did it occur to me not to the trust the horny guy without a hymen.

I was sore before we even finished. My heart was beating fast while the pain went from dull to sharp in seconds. My eyes just stung a little at first but when he moved, I started crying.