And then she was off me suddenly, sliding to the opposite end of the truck against the door. “God, Jason. We have to s-s-slo-slow down. This is going too f-f-f-fast.” She tugged her shirt down to cover herself, her breathing ragged.
I rubbed my face with my hand, unable to stop a hiss when my thumb bumped my nose. “Becca, I—I’m sorry. I guess I got carried away. I’m sorry.”
She came closer once more. “No, we did. It was me, too. I wasn’t just letting you touch me, I wanted you to. I wanted to touch you. B-bb-bbb-but…” She sucked in a deep breath and visibly composed herself. “We have to slow down. We’re only sixteen. We’ve only been dating for, like, three dates.”
“I know, I know. You’re right.” I felt responsible, even though she admitted she was as much at fault for getting carried away as me. “I should be the one to slow us down.”
She laughed at that. “Um, you’re a guy?”
I glared at her. “So that makes me unable to control myself?”
She giggled again. “No, no. Just, guys aren’t usually the ones to think about slowing down. The opposite, if I’ve heard right.” Her expression shifted into seriousness. “Have you…have you ever been with anyone else before?”
I wasn’t sure exactly what she was asking. “I’ve never dated anyone before.”
She shook her head. “No, that’s not what I mmmm-meant.” She didn’t exactly stutter the last word, more just drew out the initial sound before getting control once again. “I meant, have you been with anyone?”
I just stared at her. “No, Becca. When I kissed you in the parking lot at school, that was my first kiss.”
She seemed relieved for some reason. “Mine, too.”
“And no, I haven’t done anything else with anyone. Everything with you is a first for me.”
“Me, too.” She glanced at me with her head ducked down. “Are you mad at me for asking?”
“No, just surprised. I guess I assumed you knew I’d never done anything with anyone before.”
She shrugged. “You just…you kiss me like you know what you’re doing. I just wondered.”
I felt a thrill at her words. “So you like how I kiss you?”
She gave a look of utter disbelief. “Well…yeah. I…I love the way you kiss me. It makes me crazy. I never want to stop kissing you.”
“That’s how I feel, too,” I said. “We should go get milkshakes before I kiss you again, and then we’ll both get carried away.”
She grinned at me, equal parts shy, joyful, and frustrated. I knew exactly how she felt. We were in unexplored territory for both of us. We didn’t know what we were doing, just that we liked it. We knew sort of where it would go eventually if we didn’t stop it, and that was a big, scary line in the sand that I know I’d thought about, daydreamed about, but never imagined would be a worry this soon. A worry? That wasn’t the right word. I knew I wanted it, of course I did, but it was scary. I drove us to Big Boy for milkshakes, lost in thought. Usually I felt a lot older than my sixteen years, and I knew Becca felt the same way. But in that moment, wondering about how to handle a physical relationship with Becca, I suddenly felt very young and immature indeed.
I had her home at five minutes to eleven.
SIX: Lines in the Sand
Becca
December
Father had loosened up a bit with me since October. Ben had straightened up a bit, started going to the local community college and seemed to be getting in less trouble. He wasn’t on meds like he should be, but his mood swings seemed to be more in control, which meant less tension in the house for everyone. Jason had started coming over after practice, and we’d study in my room together, as often as not in silence except for music. We both had expectations to manage, but as long as we kept my door open, Father seemed not to mind Jason being over. For Jason, I knew it was a huge relief to not have to go home until late. He never spoke of his father again, and if he was still getting hit, he never showed it. He’d wince at times when I hugged him, but he wouldn’t let me see his torso, and he always claimed it was from football. That excuse worked less well after football season had ended, but I recognized his silent plea for me to let it go, so I did.
After we’d finished our homework, my parents would call us down for dinner. Mom seemed to see something in Jason, as if he needed mothering, and she always made sure he ate with us. She never discussed it with me, but I recognized it. For his part, Jason was always thankful, always respectful, and never took dinner with my family for granted. He always insisted on helping clear the table and did the dishes with me most nights. That impressed the hell out of Father, for some reason.
Then, after homework and after dinner, we’d hop in Jason’s truck and cruise the roads, sometimes just driving, other times going to the hill, and there we’d kiss until we reached that line in the sand where we both knew we had to stop. For me, that line was when my hands started to roam, when I began to need his hands on my skin, closer and closer. When I felt that need, I’d pull away, and Jason would let me. Sometimes he’d be the one to stop us, but usually it was me.
I went shopping with Nell for Winter Formal on a Saturday afternoon while Jason and Kyle did the same, and we had plans to meet as a foursome for a double date after shopping. We shared a changing room and stuffed ourselves into gowns, vetoing dress after dress, usually without even bothering to zip up the back.
Nell was the first one to bring up the subject of our boyfriends, thankfully, since I’d been trying to work out a way to ask my questions. “So you and Jason have been dating for what, three months?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Since September. October was when it became official or whatever.”
She gave me sly grin, her strawberry blonde hair cascading in front of her face as she bent to step into a forest-green sheath dress. “So…how far have you and Jason gone?”
“How far?” I pretended not to know what she meant.
She smacked me on the shoulder. “You know what I mean. I’ve seen you kissing in his truck after school. So spill. How far have you gone?”
“Like, in terms of bases?” I asked.
Nell snorted, a surprisingly ungraceful sound from her. “Ohmigod, Becca, that’s such a stupid way to measure it. Just tell me.”
I shrugged. “We just kiss. That’s all. We’ve…” I trailed off as I squirmed into a strapless blue dress with a scoop neck, but the squirm was as much discomfort with the conversation as it was to fit myself into the tight dress. “We’ve t-t-touched each other a little. Over our clothes. But that’s where we’ve stopped.”