Changing Seasons

Three

****

That night, Rocco fought his bedtime, almost like he could sense the anticipation in his father and did not want to miss out on whatever it was Krist was looking forward to. Krist had read several bedtime stories, given him a cup of milk, and marched his little butt back to bed each time he crept into the hallway. It wasn't until almost 9:30 that he could hop on to Messenger, hoping Atira hadn't gotten annoyed that he was late.

"I'm so sorry, Rocco was not trying to sleep," he messaged her.

"No worries :) Did you still want to video chat?"

"Of course!"

His messenger rang almost the moment his message had been sent. Butterflies fluttered in his chest as he answered. There she was, his first love, Atira. She was sitting on a dark-colored sofa, hair pulled into a messy bun, her face lit up with a smile. Krist couldn't but grin upon seeing her pretty face.

"I can't believe it's you!" Atira gushed, putting a hand to her mouth. She almost looked like she might cry.

"Crazy, right? It's been so fu-" he corrected himself, not wanting to come off white trash "freaking long."

"Gosh, you're telling me. I honestly thought I'd never see you again! I think about you all the time, all the time." She wiped beneath her eye. She was tearing up. "I'm so embarrassed, I don't know why I'm crying."

"Don't be,"Krist assured her as he propped up a pillow behind his head, "Dude, me too. I never stopped thinking about you."

Atira let out a huge sigh, her shoulders heaving a little, "I feel so dorky. I'm just so happy to be talking to you. Wow."

He smiled. He wanted to touch her, to brush away the stray hair from her face, hold her in his arms, and breathe her in. "Tell me what has happened after all these years."

****

Atira began to tell her story. She wanted him to know that even though her parents had taken her away from him, all she could think of was him, how she could get back to him, but they'd sent her away to live with an aunt up north.

Her parents had been less than thrilled when they'd learned that the Samson boy their daughter was dating was not the studious Brad. Instead, it was his younger brother, Krist. Even though he had not done anything they had deemed inappropriate, the matriarch, Alexandria Allen, remembered being a pretty girl in school who was pursued by teenage boys like Krist. They'd look at her with lust in their eyes the same way she caught him looking at her daughter. They were after one thing and one thing only. Her mother made sure to stress this to her regularly. Her purity was special and something to be saved, not given away to some sleazeball like Krist Samson.

Atira had discovered the fine art of tuning out her mother's lectures while appearing engaged. Krist treated Atira with respect. He never pressured her for sex and respected her boundaries. Krist's mother, Linda, had constantly gushed over what a good influence Atira had on her son. His study habits had improved, his attitude was less combative, and overall, he seemed happier. He'd even stopped spending so much time with the bad influence group of friends he had. Hearing that had made Atira's heart swell. She'd known he'd been in trouble in the past but that he could turn it around, she saw so much good in him. She loved him and knew he loved her.

Despite her mother's attitude about her daughter's relationship and insistence that he was after one thing, Krist continued to go slow with her. As things became more serious, the topic of sex had been brought to the table. They'd agreed to play it safe and made appointments with local Planned Parenthood so Atira could get on birth control and he could get STD tested for her reassurance. They'd waited two weeks to follow through, allowing enough time for her birth control to become effective.

Atira's dad had been out of town for work, and her mom was planning on being home late due to a work conference. With the house accessible, Atira had invited him over to finally be intimate with Krist. He'd been gentle with her, asking if she was okay or if what he was doing felt good.

Three rounds in, they were exhausted, laying in bed in a post-sex glow when the door opened. Everything happened so quickly. Alexandria was hurling insults at the two of them, calling her sixteen-year-old daughter a slut, whore, and anything else you can imagine, that Krist was disgusting, and she knew that's all he'd wanted from Atira. She wanted him out of her home, to never go near her daughter again. Atira had been fighting back sobs, pleading for her mother's forgiveness. Krist lingered at the doorway to Atira's room, not wanting to leave her side but ultimately choosing to go when her mother threatened the police.

Once Krist was gone, Alexandria looked at her daughter, eyes burning with disgust, "I told you that was all he wanted from you, didn't I?" she hissed, "Are you so stupid that you think he actually loves you? I can promise you, he will brag to all his friends about how easy you are and that you're just another notch on his head post. Go shower, wash the filth of you. I don't want to see you for the rest of the evening, and I want your phone."

Atira gathered up some pajamas and locked herself in the bathroom. She didn't let her sobs out until she was under the steady stream of the shower. Her mother had never spoken to her that way and had never been mean or cruel, but this situation brought out something ugly, something visceral. She'd never been in any trouble with her parents. Was her mother always so nasty, and she'd never had to experience it? She did not want to believe what her mother told her about Krist. It didn't make sense that he would put that much effort into tricking her into having sex with him. Why would he have her meet his mom if he wasn't serious about her?

Sitting on the shower floor, knees to chest, tears rolling down her face, she wished she could run away.

****

Her wish to leave came true, unfortunately. When her father came home from his trip, she and her mother entered her room solemnly. "We think the best option for you is to live with your Aunt Caroline. There is a nice Catholic school nearby that you can attend. You are welcome to come home during breaks and summer. We no longer believe you are responsible enough to attend that public school."

Atira's eyebrows furrowed together, and she stared at them, mouth agape. Was this some joke? People didn't just send their children away like that, did they? She wasn't even a bad kid. She was a typical teenager who responsibly had sex with her boyfriend. She was careful! Tears stung her eyes, but she would not let them see her cry. It felt like her parents were two strangers. She didn't know them at all.

"I know you must feel like this is harsh, but this is in your best interest. It would be best to focus on your studies and graduating, not worry about some boy who will get you pregnant and leave you to care for his bastard child alone. We are not going to let you ruin your future," Alexandria said sternly, "Please pack your bags. You will be leaving in the morning."

The night drug, yet the morning came too soon. Atira loaded her belongings into her family's Mercedes and begrudgingly sat in the backseat. The three-hour ride to Seattle was silent. She didn't even say goodbye to her parents when they arrived.

Her Aunt Caroline lived in an old farmhouse-style home with a brick front, manicured yard, and a back deck overlooking Puget Sound. She was a quiet, stern woman who had never been married or had children. Atira had never felt a close familial relationship with her, and even after living with her until college, that bond never happened. She helped her with schoolwork when needed, provided nutritious meals, and drove her to and from her new all-girls school.

Atira didn't necessarily hate the private school she attended; she made friends, and the staff was kind, but she couldn't help but miss her life. When the school had formal dances, her friends would try to encourage her to go with friends of their boyfriends. She would always politely decline, stating her aunt wouldn't allow her to attend. Honestly, Atira had no clue whether or not Aunt Caroline would permit it. Even if she did, Atira had no interest in spending time with other boys. Her heart belonged to Krist.