RSGNM Chapter 13.0
Uh oh, there's that look in Dad's eye again. Time to whip out my homework and pretend to be completely engrossed, or I'll have to deflect his questions yet again. It's great that Mom and Dad care about me--really, it is--but I can't talk to them about this, so I wish they'd just leave me the hell alone. Dad keeps cornering me and begging me to tell him what's going on and why I seem so different lately, saying he won't be mad at anything I tell him and that he just wants to know what's going on with his little girl. Well, Dad, I'm not so little anymore, and you can't fix everything for me.
I have to admit, Dad was pretty good at fixing things when I was younger. He even brought my mom back from the dead! He was my hero, and really, he still is. I spent the majority of my early childhood without a mother, but how many kids get a second chance like I was given? I spent as much time with my mom as I could, even though she was...different. I was just glad to have her around again. She even likes cooking, like me, so we spent a lot of time watching the cooking channel together and discussing techniques and recipes.
She's noticed the changes in me, too, and I think both my parents know something's up. But I'm old enough to make my own decisions...and my own mistakes.
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Jeffery and I grew up together. He lived across town, but he sat next to me in school. He was really, really smart, and I'd always nudge his elbow and ask him questions about the lessons we were assigned. Soon, we were spending afternoons at each other's houses, and with his help our homework would be done in no time. That left us more time to play.
He became my best friend; the one I told all my secrets to. We knew everything about each other, and we pinky swore we'd always be there for one another.
I'm not sure when it happened, but eventually my feelings for Jeff began to change. There was no day that particularly stands out in my mind as The Day I Fell In Love; instead, it happened gradually. It took me a while to identify my feelings. In fact, I didn't know I felt that way until the day he kissed me.
He'd ridden the bus to my house that afternoon, which was not unusual. We had just come in the door, and as I started to rummage in my backpack for my homework, Jeff said, "Anya, can I tell you something?"
"Of course," I replied, laughing a little. We'd always told each other everything.
He placed his hand on my shoulder, and I got that strange, tingling sensation I always got when he touched me. That should have clued me in, but I was still oblivious. Not for much longer, though.
"Annie," he began, using his special nickname for me, "I know we usually talk about everything, but...there's one thing I've been holding back."
I looked at him quizzically and shrugged. "Well, what is it, J? You can tell me anything, you know that."
"I'd rather show you," he replied.
That's when he leaned in and placed his lips gently on my own. It was chaste, and sweet, and I felt dizzy at the implications it held.
From that day on, we were more than just best friends. In every sense of the word but one, we were lovers. We were together all throughout high school, without any of that on-again, off-again crap most teenage couples go through. J and I were totally committed.
Which is why, on Valentine's Day of my senior year, I had no doubt in my mind it was time to give Jeff my greatest gift. He and I made love that evening for the first time.
It was special, and beautiful, and I worked hard to keep from crying afterwards, because it was everything I had imagined it would be.
The next day, however, Jeff began acting strangely. I asked if we were going to his house or mine after school, and he made some lame excuse about how his mom needed him to do chores that evening so he'd see me tomorrow. He avoided me for the next few days as well, and I finally couldn't take it any longer. I yanked on his backpack as he tried to book it out of our classroom one afternoon, and waited until everyone else had left before I made him explain his behavior.
His eyes were glued to the floor as he hedged around the subject, until he finally blurted out, "Anya, I think we made a mistake." I could almost feel the blood drain from my face. Did he mean he didn't really love me? That our relationship was a mistake? I tried desperately to shove my heart back down out of my throat as he continued. "I just...I think we're too young to be having sex. I don't want to be a dad anytime soon, and I know you have big dreams, too." I was relieved, at first, that he was talking about the night we made love and not about our whole relationship. "Do you still love me?" I said. It came out as a cross between a squeak and a whisper. He took me in his arms and held me. "Of course I do, Annie. I just think we should keep that one aspect out of our relationship for now."
I nodded in agreement, and things started to go back to normal, after that. For Jeff, at least. Unfortunately, my mind just kept going over the events of that night--which I had thought we'd both enjoyed--and that conversation. I began to worry that maybe I had been less than satisfactory in bed, and that that was the real reason behind Jeff's reluctance for a repeat performance. I know I was aching to do it again. My teenage hormones were raging, I had a steady boyfriend who loved me, and whom I was in love with, and I knew how to use protection. Why weren't those things enough for Jeff?
Things probably would have worked out all right, despite my bitter feelings toward the whole situation, if I hadn't met Tremayne. Trey was a transfer student from Sunset Valley, and he was Jeff's opposite in just about every way. He was outgoing, a sports jock, and already popular even though he'd only been in Meadow Glen for a month. Our English teacher assigned him as my partner for a project on poetry, and when I read his contribution, I was shocked at how...not shallow he was. His poetry portrayed the hardships of his past with an alcoholic father, and I found myself empathizing with him.
We started to hang out outside of school more and more. I think Jeff was upset when I'd suggest we go to Trey's football games, or the beach parties the jocks held at the beach. "This isn't like you, Anya," Jeff would say to me. "You've never been interested in this stuff before." He was right; I hadn't. But if one "jock" could be an okay guy, wasn't it possible that all the popular kids weren't so bad?
I started to dress more like the other girls, and do my hair and makeup differently. I definitely noticed a difference in the way guys looked at me. Their eyes held a gleam akin to hunger. Even Trey's. His was the only gaze that made me blush.
One evening, when Jeff had already gone home, Trey showed up on my doorstep.
I invited him inside, and after we chatted for a while, he said: "You know, Anya, I've been noticing a difference in you, lately. You seem more...vibrant and alive."
"Yeah?" I said, grinning. I felt more alive than I had felt in a long time.
"I really like it," Trey almost purred. "I really like you."
He looked at me with that hungry gaze, and I felt a shock of something like electricity go through my system. Harsher than the warm tingling I'd always felt when I was with Jeffery. "I really like you, too, Trey." I smiled.
Then, Trey stepped closer and kissed me urgently. As our tongues danced, I felt heat rising from my core. Part of me spared a thought for my boyfriend, my Jeff, but the here-and-now felt so much more important right then. Besides, I wasn't sure Jeff even wanted me anymore. He had expressed distaste for the "person I was becoming," and no matter how much I tried to reason with him, he still firmly refused to make love to me again.
But Trey was here, in my arms, and he was more than willing. Dad was working late, Mom was tending to my brother and sister, my grandmothers were asleep, and Giles was puttering with the invention table.
I pulled Trey's body closer to mine and let my hands stray down to his ass as I gave the kiss everything I had. I could immediately feel his physical reaction against my lower body, and it drove me crazy. I pulled him eagerly down the hall to my room.
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Afterwards, though, Trey seemed to think we were a couple. I'd told him about Jeff before, several times, but he thought that, since I'd made love to Trey, I was going to be with him instead of Jeff. I told him Jeff and I were still together, but he didn't want to accept that answer. As for Jeff...now it was my turn to avoid him. How could I tell him what I'd done? He'd never want to speak to me again. And I quickly realized that I didn't want to live my life without Jeff in it. I had been so stupid. Trey was hot, and sweet, but he had nothing on the relationship Jeff and I had built over so many years.
If I told Jeff what I'd done, I'd be throwing all that away.
And so, I dodged his questions, but I wasn't a good enough actress to stop him from sensing my unease. Every time I looked at him, I felt only guilt. How could I be with him without telling him; with all this guilt eating away at me every time our eyes met? And yet, if I told him, I'd certainly lose him. It was a horrible catch-22, and I felt like I was caught in a maelstrom with no way to go except down. I thought I'd go crazy.
Then my parents announced they were sending me to culinary school in France, and I felt weights lifted off my shoulders. I felt free. I called Jeff and told him I was going away for a while. There was a twinge of guilt when he cried on the phone, but I hoped my time away would give me the distance I needed to see clearly; to make the right decision.