The Right Side of Reckless (A Lot Like Screwed-Up)

Sample [2]

REGAN

Troy Jordan slowly eased his hand up the back of my shirt. He thought he was being slick, but he was kissing me too urgently to play it off. I knew what he was after, and like the many times before, he wasn't getting it.

     I was supposed to be doing my AP geography homework, but with Troy's advances, that wasn't happening. As his lips and hands roamed my body, I stared up at the Beyoncé poster on my cream-painted bedroom wall.

     "Troy," I said, pushing him away and sitting up on my bed, "my parents are right downstairs. Besides, I've got notes to read over."

     Troy groaned, rolling his eyes and sitting up beside me. "Come on, Rey, you're never in the mood."

     The mood, a topic of conversation Troy had been bringing up a lot lately. What he kept failing to realize was that one does not simply get in "the mood" to lose their virginity. It was an important decision to me, one I wanted to be completely sure of beforehand. While he was all hot and ready day and night, I wasn't so sure.

     We had been together since the start of my sophomore year and his junior. One year later, we were constantly talking about my inability to go all the way. It made me feel guilty.

     I lay down on my stomach and turned on the TV. Maybe some harmless reality show would lull me. Getting lost in other people's wild lives would be a good distraction from my own.

     "Is something wrong, Regan?" Troy asked, starting in on the usual question after I put a stop to things.

     It was Friday night and we could've been doing something romantic, or just chilling, but instead I was trying to do homework and study while also contemplating buying a chastity belt made of barbed wire. He'd come by to hang out, but as always, more was on his mind.

     I didn't even want to study, but of course I had to. I had to get good grades all around, especially in my accounting course.

     Between Troy and accounting, I just couldn't deal.

     "No, Troy," I breathed out in response to the tantrum he was about to throw.

     I was attracted to Troy, sure, but when I thought about having sex with him, I felt weird and unsure. Maybe I just wasn't ready. I was sixteen.

     "Well then, what's up? You do this all the time. I'm not a mind reader, Rey, why can't you just say what you're thinking?"

     "I...." Want you to go. It always got awkward once we reached this point.

     I missed how we'd been at the beginning—the movie nights, the TV binges, the realization of who he was and who he was going to be during that first football game as his girlfriend among all his adoring fans, and mostly, the respected boundary line.

     Six months in and our messy tango of kissing had begun not being enough. Cuddling wasn't enough, waiting wasn't enough.

     "You what, Rey?" Troy stood in front of the TV, blocking my escape.

     I swallowed, fiddling with the heart-embedded infinity symbol pendant on the necklace he'd gotten me last November. How was I to explain myself when I didn't even get it?

     "I just...need more time." It was all I could muster, and it left me feeling exhausted.

     "How much more time?"

     His whining was getting annoying. I wouldn't sleep with him just to shut him up—my parents were downstairs, as well as my younger brother, Avery.