If I Tell - By Janet Gurtler Page 0,16

in eighth grade. A boy who later told me it had been a dare to see if he could get the skinny black girl to kiss him. He’d won twenty bucks, thanks to me.

Nathan shushed me before I could get out a word and pulled me toward the bed in the middle of the room. A cheap floral bedspread covered it, the colors faded and worn. Like me. I wanted to curl up in a little ball inside the covers.

Nathan kissed me again and I resisted, but he didn’t seem to notice. He pushed me back so I was sitting on the bed. I tried to squirm away, but he chuckled and bent over, making funny noises in his throat.

“Don’t be shy. It’s just me.” The weight of his body pressed on top of me. His necklaces dangled down against my skin. “You want this. You want it.”

Did I? Was this what I wanted?

Claustrophobia strangled me. My stomach lurched with nausea. I pushed my hands against him but he resisted. His ribs poked against my skin. My hip bones ached as he crushed against me.

“No, Nathan. I don’t want to,” I whispered.

He groaned. “Oh, baby, you do. This is exactly what you want. It’s okay. I love you. I love you.”

My eyes closed. This was all my fault. I’d gotten myself into this mess with my own stupidity. I held back tears and shame as he struggled to undo my tight jeans.

“No.” I reached down to push him away.

“It’s okay,” he interrupted. “You’re beautiful. Let me see you.”

He grabbed my wrists and held them back. I shook my head.

“No,” I said but it came out weakly, without conviction, and he didn’t hear me. No one heard me. God. I was such an idiot. I deserved this. I gritted my teeth, and tears spilled down my cheeks. I was alone. Violated. Exactly what I deserved.

“No,” I said louder. “I don’t want to.” I brought my knee up. Not enough to hurt him but enough to alarm him.

He groaned and moved back. “Hey.” He stopped struggling and collapsed on top of me. “What the hell?”

I stared at the ceiling. His full body weight took the breath out of me, and I pushed to get him off. He rolled over and up onto his elbow. His dark skin, even darker in the shadows, made mine look pale, almost white. I stared at it, aching.

“What are you playin’ at?” He sat up, rubbing his bald head.

I blinked back fresh tears and bit my lip but didn’t answer.

He pushed himself off the bed, shaking his head. “You’re a tease.” He swore as he zipped up his pants. I didn’t even know they’d been undone. “You’re lucky, you know. Not everyone would stop after the way you were leading me on.”

I swallowed hard to keep bile inside. “Thank you,” I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster.

“Shit.” He shook his head again and coughed. “I forget how young you are sometimes. Seventeen.”

I sat up and hugged my arms around myself.

The corner of his top lip turned upward. He reached for my hand. “Not many chicks are still innocent at your age. I kind of like it. I guess I can wait for you. For a little while.”

I pulled away, pretending to scratch behind my back.

“Don’t worry. This wasn’t a onetime thing,” he said softly. “I’m into you.”

I shook my head quickly back and forth. No. It was definitely a onetime thing. Alcohol induced. I wanted no part of doing that again. My head swam from the amount I’d drunk. So much for forgetting my problems. I’d just made them worse.

As I got up, the charms on my bracelet clanged softly against each other. I hoped dead people couldn’t see what was happening. Grandpa Joe would have keeled over at my behavior. Well, keeled over again.

“You need a drink?” Nathan asked.

“No,” I said quickly. “Go on down. I’ll be there in a minute or so.” My cheeks flamed, and I willed him to go away.

He leaned over to kiss me, but I turned my head so he kissed my cheek. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” I repeated.

“Sure. Okay.”

He reached for my hand. “We’ll finish this.”

I flinched. As soon as he closed the door, I ran to the bathroom, barely reaching the toilet before the contents of my stomach spewed out.

Great. Just great.

After cleaning up, I tiptoed through the hallway to the kitchen back entrance. My bare feet hit cold pavement and I winced. It didn’t matter.