be a very painful thing, but my body's willingness to
accept him overcame all that, tolerated the pain. Once
again, the moans and even the sobs I heard seemed to
be coming to me outside my body. I was sitting there,
watching it all with an almost scientific detachment. What happens next? How do I react?
Although it wasn't at the top of my concerns, I did think about the fact that I was disappointing Ami, letting her down and turning my back on all her advice and admonitions. Was I being ungrateful? This was, after all, her home. I was wearing the clothes she had bought me. She had put me in the private school where I had met Trevor, and in return, here I was, locked in the most intimate embrace with him right across the hallway from her room.
I opened my eyes and looked at Trevor. He looked like he was in his own world. No longer kissing me and whispering his love, he kept his eyes closed and had his head back as he moved his body to bring him the most possible pleasure. He uttered a short cry and then a groan as he exploded inside me and then dropped his head to my shoulder,
floundering for a moment like a fish pulled out of the water. Gradually, he wound down and became still, his breathing and mine more regular.
He opened his eyes and looked at me. The expression on my face and my having my eyes wide open and studying him brought a smile to his face.
"Hello," he said. "Fancy meeting you here." I didn't laugh. It had happened so quickly, and I was so confused and worried about every feeling that I wasn't sure it actually had occurred. Was that it? "Are you all right?" he asked.
"You'd better get dressed and go," I said. "But I just came," he replied, and laughed. He
turned over and lay there beside me. "I like this bed." He bounced on it. "It's like sleeping on a giant marshmallow."
"You've got to go, Trevor," I urged with more insistence. "Sometimes Ami stops by before she goes to bed."
"Stop calling me Trevor. My name is Romeo," he said, propping himself on his elbow.
He traced his left forefinger down the middle of my bosom and then under my breasts as though he wanted to memorize ever curve in my body.
"You're as beautiful as I thought," he said. "I was a little surprised, however, to discover you've not been with anyone else like this."
"Well, don't be," I snapped, and pushed his hand away from my breasts.
"Don't get upset. I'm not being critical."
"You sounded critical," I said. "You made it sound like I was emotionally retarded or something because I have never slept with a boy."
He shrugged.
"Hey, there has to be a first time for everyone, and I'm happy to be yours. They say every time you make love from now on, you'll always be comparing him to me."
I sat up and reached for my nightgown. Would I do that? He shouldn't be so confident, I thought. These circumstances made it most likely that it would be better the next time, either with him or someone else.
"I don't intend to be going to a sexual supermarket, Trevor," I said, bothered by his arrogance and that he was still under the influence of the alcohol he had drunk.
"A sexual supermarket? I like that," he said. "Hey, c'mon, don't be upset. I really do feel very strongly about you, Celeste."
He watched me put on my nightgown.
"That's a pretty sexy nightgown," he commented. "Looks like one of those Fredericks of Hollywood things." He started to reach for me again, and I pulled away.
"Trevor, you really have to get dressed and get out of here," I insisted, practically pleading.
"Okay, okay," he said, and sat up. He scrubbed his face with his palms and looked around a moment before reaching for his own things. He went into the bathroom. I heard the toilet flush, and then he came out, still not fully dressed.
"Trevor."
"I'm going. I'm going," he said, and continued putting on his clothing. He moved very slowly. His drinking and everything he had done was finally registering in his drooping eyelids.