Underage

[23] Back to the Beginning

Underage

[23] Back to the Beginning

Ethan and I suffered through the most awkward breakfast that morning. Pancakes were flipped and bacon cooked, and yet I couldn't touch any of it. My stomach twisted and turned, the thought of my parents knowing what we did last night churning it even more. I was embarrassed, mortified, and didn't know what to say or what they were going to say to us. My cheeks had been in an everlasting blush that didn't seem to want to leave. My parents sat across from us, no one but Ethan eating their food. My mother had a silly smile on her face that she kept wiping off when my father glared at her. He moved his glare back and forth between the three of us, but kept it mostly on Ethan, the boy his only daughter lost her virginity to, and under his roof.

Ethan made a move to place his hand on my thigh, but each time I brushed him away. Now was not the time. I was sore and Ethan laughed at me the entire way down the stairs. I waddled like a penguin and wanted nothing more than to lay upstairs in freshly changed seats and cuddle into his chest.

Every movement either Ethan and I made at the table that morning caught my father's hawk-like eyes. As if something was going to happen while we were sat at the table with food in front of us, not to mention my parents.

"Please tell me you two were at least safe."

My father's words made everything worse. My cheeks colored even more, and I ducked my head, hoping my hair was long enough to cover my cheeks. "Son, you at least know how to put on a condom?"

It was the first and last time I had ever seen Ethan's cheek tinge with embarrassment when he had to mutter the word yes.

"Oh, leave them alone, you know I had Thea go on the pill months ago."

Ethan had looked at me because I hadn't told him that. In fact, I made sure he used a condom. There was no way in hell I was getting pregnant at sixteen years old. Just the fact that I was on the pill and he was using a condom made me worry less. And that's how it was going to stay for years to come.

It was hard, watching him fall in love with her. Especially after I realized how madly in love I was with him. Every kiss, every giggle she made, every touch of their hands bothered me. I couldn't watch anymore. I thought for a while, there, before Julia, that he felt the same about me, but I guess I was wrong. And, I realized, I had always loved him. I'd always been in love with him, since the old minivan days and cheap dates. Those were my favorite kind.

So, I told myself I was going to hate him. I was going to limit my time with him and always pick fights. Maybe then he would leave me alone; maybe then I could trick myself into hating him. But, the more we fought, the more I liked to fight with him. We would bicker and it would end with laughter and we would be okay. I would walk away and he would go back to Julia, and we would start all over the next day. It was our routine. I liked it; I grew used to it.

Then I met Mitch. I needed a distraction and as much as that makes me a horrible person, that's all he was to me. We met at the party Julia threw at her grandmother's house that summer. He was older, in college, and was handsome. He had an old car that was too loud and he played awful music that screamed louder than the engine. I wanted so badly to like him, but maybe it was only the alcohol that made me agree to the first date.

He was the one that slipped that cigarette between my lips and lit it for me. He gave me cigarette after cigarette until I could finally smoke one without coughing or needing a break for fresh air. He didn't give me a chance to say no, and I was so drunk I didn't care. And, then, I got used to them. Every time we would hang out he would push one between my teeth and set it on fire. He wouldn't roll down the windows when we smoked in the car, and no matter where we were, we always smoked. He would make sure of it.