Surface Pressures {Fingers Crossed Series} [Isabella's Story] |1|

|PART ONE: MY MOM |

June 22
Laying my head down on Tate's lap I tried to focus on the television. We'd been sitting in his room for forty-five minutes and I still had no idea what we were watching. The smell of the marijuana was still clinging in the air giving me a headache and dulling my high. Turning away from the screen, I laid on my back and stared up at Tate. It seemed that he was completely lost in his own thoughts and looked genuinely beautiful from my perspective. If Dad knew what I was doing I knew it would kill him.

"What are you thinking?" I asked him in a voice that sounded weird even to my own ears.

He shifted slightly before looking down at me, "I'm not thinking about anything. I'm just trying to enjoy the moments." He winked at me, "What are you thinking about?"

Sitting up, I tried to come up with something but ended up saying the truth, "I'm thinking about my Dad."

"Uh..." Tate was speechless.

"I just hate that he left us completely alone and thinks that we'll be fine without him." I explained, "Like our lives don't matter because it's more important to serve his country. I just hate that he couldn't say no."

Slowly he brushed my hair off my shoulder and moved closer to my side, "I think I know of a way to make you forget about him." He kissed my bare skin, "As long as you're ready."

My stomach twisted. How was I supposed to know if I was ready? Should my body give me a sign and let me know or was it something that would happen in the moment? The way his hand moved down my body distracted me from searching if I was or not. Watching his hand travel down to my thighs it felt like my breathing completely stopped. The anxiety became overwhelming.

"Do you mind?" He questioned as he moved his hand closer to my vagina.

"N-no." I stammered.

Quickly Tate pushed me to a laying down position and spread my legs apart. As he began unbuttoning my shorts I couldn't look any longer. Staring up at the ceiling I forced myself to only look at the water stain in the corner. I tried to not move or make any sounds but I couldn't help it as a horrible pain rushed through my legs.

"Damn." Tate spoke, "Sorry, Bell."

Pushing myself up onto my elbows, I looked to see myself bleeding. Terrified, I could feel my eyes grow in size. Pushing him away from me, I jumped up and ran to the bathroom. Bunching up toilet paper I shoved it into my underwear to stop the blood from getting everywhere. Feeling my cheeks start burning there was such a feeling of embarrassment. Was this normal? Did this happen to other girls their first time? What if I wasn't normal and just a total freak? What if I bled because it was out of revenge and not love? Dad always said sex was meant for people in love that wanted to be together forever. But I didn't feel that way about Tate and I'm sure he didn't feel that way about me.

"I have to go." I spoke rushing out of the bathroom, "I'll text you later."

Running out of the house, I just wanted to get home and hide under the covers of my bed. As I ran towards home it felt like my entire body was disconnecting. Suddenly it felt as though my legs wanted to go in opposite directions, my arms flailing in the air, and my lungs felt as though they were being crushed. But through all the pain and fear, I forced myself to keep going. I kept telling myself that I couldn't stop or else Tate would come after me to talk about what happened. And I couldn't talk to him.

Finally reaching home, I ran through the front door and straight to the bathroom. Going underneath the sink I quickly grabbed a pad and put it on. Flushing the red toilet paper I tried my best to keep my composure so Mom wouldn't ask any questions. Quickly washing my face I wanted to make sure that there were no traces of my tears.