trigger warnings: mentions of grooming, implied sexual assault
"Should we be doing this right now?" Clothes were everywhere. Both of our hairs were messy. I should have been invested but I couldn't stop thinking about how wrong, yet right this was.
"Yeah, don't worry. It's totally okay." Vanessa tried to reassure me, but how could she when she was the cause of such insecurities. Was what we were doing right? The entire thing went by as a blur, my thoughts making me unable to focus on anything.
"That was good, right?"
"Y-yeah, I guess." Did she not notice how off I was this whole time? Probably not; she's too consumed by her own life. She doesn't care about me. I know this, but I still can't let go of her.
---
Two weeks later, she came to pick me up in her black sleek car. I was reminded again of how different we were: I couldn't even drive and she already has her own car.
I got in and saw her dressed up in a white short dress, her blond hair curled to perfection and her makeup done, making her even more beautiful. In my jeans and wrinkled t-shirt, I couldn't compare.
We made small talk until she brought it up.
"Hey, don't tell my friends you're 15, okay?"
"What? Why not?"
"I've told them you're 18 and I don't want them to know the truth."
"Why did you do that? Are you embarrassed of me? Of my age?"
She looked at me, hand caressing my thigh. "No baby no, it's just that I'm five years older than you and you know how some people are about this stuff. I just don't want you getting hurt."
I nodded. That made sense. She just wanted to protect me. She cares about me. She loves me. I kept repeating those words in my head, trying to convince myself that they were true. I wanted to avoid the truth: she knows this is wrong and doesn't want anyone to know.
We reached the restaurant. It was some Italian place she and her friends loved. I walked in with her, feeling extremely underdressed. Everyone was wearing expensive dresses and fancy suits. The thought of how my parents believed that I was too young for my own suit rang through my head. Too young to own a suit, but old enough to be with her surrounded by people in suits; it was kind of ironic.
We walked to the hostess where she spoke. "Reservation for Vanessa Coulsen?"
The hostess led us to the table where her two friends were waiting for us. Rei and Arosha were their names. Rei was a short brunette with brown eyes. Their nude-coloured dress complimented their tan skin. Arosha had freckles over her skin and a mix of an Italian and British accent - which was a weird, but nice mix. Her forest green jumpsuit suited her red hair. I introduced myself to the two girls who were loud and chatty and welcomed me with open arms.
They were nice and I felt bad lying to them the entire time. I didn't want to play the part of a man 3 years older than me. We made small talk and they asked many questions about Vanessa and my relationship and me as a person. Eventually they began asking me questions to which any 18-year old would know the answer.
"What university do you want to go to?" I'm not sure yet, but I think I'll take a gap year. "Do you have a major in mind?" Maybe law. I had just entered high school, but the role assigned to me by Vanessa forced me to act like I was about to leave.
Soon, the girls wanted to drink alcohol. Of course, since I was 15, I legally couldn't drink. But when I went to make an excuse as to why I couldn't drink, Vanessa gave me a look and I understood that drinking a beer was a requirement of my new role. And so, I asked the waitress for a glass of beer, which she brought to me after, thankfully, forgetting to look at my ID. I took small sips of the bitter drink, hoping my facial expression wouldn't give away the fact that it was my first time.
A couple hours and two beers later, we thankfully said our goodbyes and parted from Vanessa's friends. Getting in the car, Vanessa wouldn't stop talking about how well that went and how all of her friends loved me. I, on the other hand, was silent. Doubts were entering my mind. Was I too young for this? Was I being used? Should I leave?
I tried to answer the last question. Was it better for me to leave Vanessa? Should I break things off? What if she then told people and people blamed me? Would I miss her? Do I love her? I tried picturing life without her. I couldn't. I loved her and she loved me. I tried convincing myself that the role I played was just something I had to do for this relationship to work. Relationships were a give and take and this was an example of a give, something I had to do for her.
I loved her, I'd miss her if I left right now. This whole relationship was tearing me apart, but it was worth it. Love would make losing myself worth it. I knew it was wrong, my gut told me not to do it. But my heart won over my brain.
I should have ended it that day. But I didn't. I couldn't.
