Page 57 of Find Me

“Hmm?”

“You said twelve,” he accuses. “Twelve-year-old-you didn’t care that he thought your love of unicorns was childish…” He trails off.

His hand pauses against my skin, as if the tension building in his body is taking all of his focus.

“Yes…” I start, not sure where this is headed.

“And he was in his first year of Harvard, visiting on the weekends, making him what, eighteen? Nineteen?”

Confusion crosses my face. “Yeah, something like that. What are you getting at Jax?”

“You were a child, love,” he says in a deadly whisper.

“It wasn’t like that…” I start, knowing exactly what he’s insinuating now.

“It was exactly like that.” He counters.

“No, you weren’t there. It wasn’t wrong like that. It’s not like he pressured me or anything… it was completely consensual. We were just messing around together and having fun, we were just kids after all.” My eyes search his, trying to decipher what he’s feeling.

“No, love,” he starts, “you were not just kids messing around. You were a kid. He was not.”

“Jax,” I start.

“They have a name for that you know, and it’s not ‘just two kids messing around’ when one of you is a child and the other is an adult,” he says bluntly.

I don’t know why but frustration starts to build inside of me, and I feel myself tensing at his words. Anger grows at the idea of this one good memory being taken away from me, twisted it into something unpalatable. I’m not naive, and even then I was fully aware that this wasn’t going to be like the romance movies, we weren’t going to start dating or ride into the sunset together. I took it for what it was, me spending time and experiencing new things with my crush, someone I cared about and someone who cared about me. And sure, it wasn’t perfect, but I doubt anyone’s first time really is, but it was special to me and now he’s insinuating… I can’t even bring myself to say it.

I push up, moving off of him as I get out of the bed, quickly finding clothes as the cold air nips at my naked skin, my hands rushing for some unknown reason.

“I need some fresh air,” I say, distractedly, “I’m going for a walk, and I just need you to not be here when I get back.”

Jax pulls himself off the bed, much more gracefully than me, before stalking towards me, a level of anger in his eyes I don’t recognize.

He gently grabs my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my head up so I’m looking at him in the eyes. God, he’s beautiful.

It’s hard to ignore his naked body in front of me, and even though I’m angry I can feel myself wanting to reach out and touch him, running my hands over the length of his body.

“Remember when I told you I would never let anyone hurt you if we were together?” He growls.

“Yes,” I respond, “but this was years ago Jax, and like I said, he didn’t hurt me. It was fine.”

“Agree to disagree, love, but nothing was fine about that situation, and karma isn’t kind to guys who prey on little girls.”

“It wasn’t like that Jax!” I all but scream, my frustration getting the better of me.

“How can’t you see it? You were a child…”

“Okay yes, I was a child, we’re all on the same page. Was it a perfect scenario? Should we have done that? Okay maybe not. But it’s not what you’re insinuating… it just isn’t.”

“Evi, come on,” he tries again before pausing. “What I don’t understand is why you’re adamant about seeing this through rose-colored glasses. Why are you holding on so tight to the idea that this was completely okay?”

I feel myself crumple at this question, unsure how to verbalize what I’m feeling.

“Because I…” I falter, taking a deep breath to steady myself before continuing. “Because I want to have one good memory of someone wanting to be with me. I want to remember a part of my childhood where someone actually wanted to spend time with me… to get to know me. And I want to remember this as something special, something fun, something I enjoyed. I don’t need it being twisted into something less than that, something vile, to be shelved next to all the other memories I’d rather forget.” I exhale shakily. “I just want this to remain as something I look back at with fondness, rather than redefining a pivotal moment in my life as something horrible,” I say sadly.

I turn from Jax, getting dressed in silence.

“Come on, love, talk to me,” he says cautiously.

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