Page 17 of Colossal
We hooked up the same day we met.
Twice.
With that worry weighing down my shoulders, I hurry out of the room. There’s a chance I might be able to make the bus if I run. “I won’t tempt anyone,” I say on my way past my stepmother, keeping my head bowed, so she won’t see my creeping self-doubt.
“Your filthy drawings say otherwise!” she calls after me.
I wince on the bottom stair, picking up my pace. Thank God I hid my sketchpad under my mattress or she’d see what I drew in the wee hours of the morning. My brutally big hockey goalie on top of me, squashing my smaller body to the mattress, delivering the contents of his balls between my thighs one hip thrust at a time.
Praising me for being fertile.
Begging me to get pregnant.
I pause at the end of my driveway and look back at my house, making eye contact with my stepmother where she continues to hover in my attic room, sipping her coffee. The undiluted hatred in her expression freezes my breath in my lungs.
I can’t ever bring Eric here.
If he doesn’t already think I’m a dirty tramp, she’ll convince him I am. And maybe just maybe, in that setting, where he’s able to compare me to my two sisters, he’ll agree with her. He won’t want to be my boyfriend anymore and that would shatter me.
Because Eric is the first person to make me feel seen and safe and wanted.
I don’t want to lose him.
Despite my stepmother’s best efforts to thwart me, I manage to make it to the bus on time. I skid into first period right as the bell is ringing, my heart rocketing up into my mouth when I spot Eric at our table, looking so incredibly handsome in a black hoodie and jeans that I could melt into a puddle.
I take my spot beside Eric, smiling up at him with everything I’ve got, even though my chest is heavy after this morning. After the doubt I’ve been steeping in since leaving the house. Am I as disgusting as she tries to make me believe?
“Hi,” I whisper, as the teacher starts to talk.
“Hi,” he says back. But he doesn’t smile.
In fact, he looks kind of…nervous? What if he’s horrified over my behavior last night and already wants to end our relationship? “Is everything okay?” I ask, after a few seconds of gathering my courage.
“What? Yeah.” His leg starts to bounce under the table, but it shakes the whole piece of furniture, drawing the eyes of our fellow students, so he has to stop. “Yeah, I just…I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Oh.” My swallow gets stuck. “Okay, I understand.”
He does a double take, scanning my face. “Understand what?”
I open my mouth and close it. “What were you going to say?”
“I was going to ask if, uh…” The tips of his ears darken. “It’s okay if you say no, but I was going to ask if you’d sit with me at lunch.”
I’m frozen for a good five seconds before his words register and the relief comes pouring out of me on a gusting exhale. “Really?” I breathe. “I would love to.”
His own relief is starkly obvious. “Really?”
“Yes.”
He reaches out and cups the side of my face. “Why are your eyes full of tears, Fairy Tale? I don’t understand.” His thumb brushes across my cheekbone. “Did you have a bad morning?”
Yes. Until now. “I’m having a great morning,” I whisper, resting my cheek in his hand.
And the day only gets better. Eric holds my hand and walks me to second period, my backpack thrown over his beefy shoulder. When that class ends, he arrives once again to hold my hand, bringing me to calculus. I’ve never felt more special in my entire life. Especially since my mother passed away. He holds my hand like it’s made of glass and kisses me before leaving me at the door to my classrooms, sending a silent warning to every male in my classes, his message clear:Don’t you dare go near my girlfriend.
Unfortunately, every time he kisses me, my panties get a little damper and by lunch time, all I want is to get on my knees for my medicine.
Is calling Eric’s come my medicine a little extreme?
