Sublime Messages

Six, A

It wasn't what she expected, any of it, though in all fairness, she didn't know what to expect.

"You love me, right?" she asked him hesitantly after he told her to lie down. He didn't answer. She should've taken that as a warning, but sudden timidity suppressed her normally obstinate temperament. She did what he said, though; she climbed onto the bed, wondering about what exactly was happening and whether it meant anything. Sure she'd thought about Damien a thousand times, but she'd not exactly connected the things grown people did—the things her Mama did—to what she might want from him. Her knowledge of what exactly happened when people were intimate was something like Swiss cheese, some of the more important parts not yet filled in.

Still, what was the alternative? To leave? No. Not that. She trusted him. She always would.

"You do love me, Damien, don't you?" she pressed as he crawled on top of her, hovered with his curtains of hair around her face.

"You bleeding yet?"

Ruby didn't understand.

"Your periods. Have they started?"

Ashamed, the girl shook her head, but her abashment was to him an invitation, and without even kissing her again he pulled down her shorts and shoved his fingers up inside of her. She was startled by that, cried out at the discomfort, but not as much as when he took off his pants and put himself up inside of her.

She tried to tell him she didn't like it, that it hurt, but the strength of her voice had been spirited right out of her. She didn't push him or hit him or anything, just dug her fingers into the mattress, so maybe he didn't know she wanted him to stop. The throbbing, tearing pain sent her thoughts spiraling, sent her somewhere else, a place where she told herself Damien knew what he was doing, that she just needed to let him do it. He knew these things. He was nineteen, now. He knew how to do it all.

After, Damien fell asleep on the bed, and Ruby moved to the sofa where she sat in the dark and silently cried. She pulled her legs up against her body, but the ache in her core was so much that she struggled to control her lower limbs. She rubbed the top of her head where it'd bumped up against the wall too many times to count. He hadn't said anything to her during or after except to remark when he was done and adjusting his pants, "Grown girl now."

Ruby knew it was her fault if she was in pain. She'd told Damien she loved him. He'd only been showing her his love in return, and here she was, wallowing alone in the black night like some little baby. This was what grown people did. She was a woman now, truly, even without her periods. So why did she feel so confused?

At some point, the girl stirred herself enough to creep to the bathroom, where she shut the door and ran the tub, filling it with water so hot it nearly scalded her flesh red. She stayed in that water for a long, long time, weeping and feeling a silly fool for doing so. But eventually, she stayed too long and startled awake to find she'd been drifting into sleep.

Forgetting to pull the drain, Ruby left the tub full and crawled her hurt body back to the sofa. She slipped into her sweatshirt and unders, and then she fell into a deep sleep on the uncomfortable foam sofa.

"Time to go," Damien roused her with his words and a jostle of her shoulder. Ruby momentarily forgot where she was as well as the events of the night, but as she acclimated to her surroundings her heart fell to an awkward place. She'd always spoken her mind around Damien, but she didn't know how to be, now. Not after what'd happened.

He, on the other hand, hardly seemed to recall their interaction.

"I'll take you home. Your mother will be wondering about you."