Page 8 of His to Love
“Good,” she said quickly. “Today’s the twenty-fifth, so remember to call your Tia Veronica. It’s her birthday today.”
“Okay, Mamma, I’ll call her after I rest, I promise.” Turning the corner, I drove down the street as my mother’s words registered.
It’s the twenty-fifth?
“I’m going over to her house for dinner. We’re all getting together to celebrate. I wish you could come, but I know that you can’t. We’re so proud of you and I’ll be sure to tell everyone how well you’re doing.”
Slowing the car down, I pulled to the side of the road as my head swam. “Yeah, okay, Mamma. You have a nice time and tell her happy birthday for me.”
Someone honked as they drove past me. My mother heard the sound. “Alejandra! You’re on the phone while you’re driving? Chica loca.” And then she hung up.
I picked my phone up off the seat to check the date. My brain wouldn’t accept that it was the twenty-fifth. But the calendar didn’t lie. “Five days late.”
How I’d missed the fact that my monthly visitor was late stupefied me. I was never late—not ever. Banging my head on the steering wheel, I berated myself. “Why? Why? Why did I do it?”
Alejandro had stayed on for the entire first month of my stay at the Soliz’s, instead of just the week. He’d hit on me hard and heavy, although never in front of his parents. I wouldn’t give into him, as I felt sure that he was only after one thing.
But he didn’t leave once the month was up. He told me that he was going to stay to prove to me that he wasn’t messing with my head—to prove that he liked me, really liked me.
I still didn’t give in—not even a little. He’d tried to kiss me, hold my hand, touch me any way he could, but I never allowed it. He stayed on another month and then another. Five months in all, he’d stayed there, and he’d said he’d done it all for me.
No one had ever wanted me that badly. It was flattering, and he was hot too. I was only human. And so I ended up giving in, and for a week we hit the sheets each night after his parents went to bed.
Losing my virginity wasn’t anything like I’d thought it would be. It had been fast, a little painful, and more than a bit disappointing. I wasn’t sure how things worked in the sex world, but I did think I was supposed to get some sort of pleasure out of it.
The first time, it took him about two minutes and he was done. I didn’t know what had happened until he announced it with a groan, “I came!”
I was left with a mess between my legs and a sense of regret. The next night, when he climbed into my bed, I wasn’t into it. He told me this time would be better for me, he’d make sure of it.
I was skeptical but decided to give it another try, only for him to proceed to do things the exact same way as he had the night before. Only this time he shouted out proudly, “I got a nut!”
I had no idea what that even meant, and I wasn’t going to ask either. I just rolled out of bed and went to shower. It was becoming clear to me that sex wasn’t the be-all and end-all that people made it out to be.
Somehow, I let him talk me into having sex three more nights in a row. Somewhere inside my head, I thought that it had to get better. People wouldn’t do it if it was this one-sided. Alejandro just had to put more thought into my pleasure, since I had no idea how to do that for myself. And I told him that.
I went to work shortly after telling him that. And he assured me that night would be all about me. All day long, I thought about what he was going to do to make it better for me. By the time I got home, I was fired up about it.
“Alejandro?” I’d called out as soon as I’d gotten home. I went to his bedroom, excited to find out what he’d come up with. But he wasn’t there, and neither were his things.
Later, when the deacon and his wife got home, they told me he’d called them that morning to ask for a ride to the airport. He’d finally gone back to California to get back to his classes.
Stupidly, we’d never exchanged numbers. He’d told me that we had to keep what we’d done a secret from his parents or they’d make me move out. I was fine with that, as I knew I couldn’t tell my family either.
“Why didn’t I think about birth control?” I kept banging my head on the steering wheel.
Not knowing if being five days late meant that I was pregnant or not, I pulled myself together so I could go to the store to buy a pregnancy test. I had to know. I didn’t want to think about what I’d do if it was positive, but if the test showed that I wasn’t pregnant I thought that a long prayer to the Virgin Mary would be in order.
As I drove, something told me that I had to prepare myself for a positive test. I had to decide what I would do if I were pregnant. And I knew that I would have to track Alejandro down to tell him we were having a baby.
Feeling everything in my stomach well up at the thought, I pulled over and threw the door open just in time. As I puked my guts up, I tried not to cry and failed miserably.
My parents are going to kill me.
