Burned (6 page)

I Pondered That

All the next day--through breakfast and the pre-services scramble; through three hours of Mutual and droning testimony.

My thoughts were far from pure.

Through apres-services chatter, squashing into the car for the short ride home.

I couldn't turn off my brain.

What did yesterday mean?

Anything?

Or was it all just another dream, one I'd dreamed while awake?

Three days ago, the only boy on my mind was Justin.

He was a dream too. A safe dream.

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Safe, because he was unattainable, something to adore from afar.

Like a snow-drenched mountain or an evening star.

But what about Derek?

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J
ournal Entry, March 26

Derek Colthorpe

told me

I'm pretty.

At least

1 think

that's ivhat he told

me.

Pretty?

Me?

And he told me

he'd see

me on

Monday.

Do

I

dare

believe

him?

In

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I
Didn't Dare

Hurt seemed too likely, so on Monday I didn't

go looking for him.

I was a campus loner, anyway, Walking solo between classrooms, eating lunch with my sister.

Imagine my surprise

when he found me at the noon break.

He smiled at Jackie.

Hi.
Then he turned to me.

Can I talk to you for a minute?

You should have seen

Jackie's face as the two of us started away.

Derek steered me toward a quiet spot.
Pattyn,

I know I'm not exactly

Your type ...

He
wasn't
my
type?

Where could this

be going but bad?

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What I mean is, I'm

not a Mormon.

'
Maybe we're nothing

alike at all. . .

Understatement!

He was Chateaubriand.

I was hamburger.

He reached out and touched my cheek.

But I'd really like to see you again.

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N
ot Sure

Whether it was his words or his touch, but my face scorched.

So of course I came up with a really

great line. "Why?"

Derek's smile narrowed.

Does that mean no?

I shook my head. "No.

I just need to know why."

7
don't know . . . because you're

smart andfunny and . . .

Funny as in witty?

Or as in entertaining?

. . . and you're not trying to impress anyone.

Mostly because I didn't

know I
could
impress anyone.

I happen to like you, Pattyn

Isn't that a good enough reason?

It was the perfect reason.

"I like you, too, Derek."

Okay, then. Friday night?

Brent's having a party.

A party? How could I

possibly swing that?

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Derek misunderstood my dazed look.

Second thoughts already?

"No, it's not that. .

not that at all. . . ."

You sure? 'Cause maybe this

will change your mind. . . .

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He Kissed Me

Not an over-the-top, hard

demanding

kiss, not even a kiss hinting

passion.

No tongue, no spit, just a sweet first

kiss, Derek's

soft

füll lips

gifting mine with a gentle

caress.

I thought I'd die on the spot.

(Later I wished I had.)

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He Held My Hand

As he walked me back to where

Jackie still sat, doe-eyed.

Amazed.

He didn't know, but Jackie

did, that I was someone new.

Reborn.

The bell rang and he promised to find me later.

Stunned,

I watched him go as Jackie

demanded,
What happened?

Numb,

I wanted to tell her everything, and I wanted to keep it all to myself, frozen

inside, a perfect point of light to focus on when everything feil dark.

As, of course, it must.

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But I Told Her

A. She wouldn't let me keep it secret

and

B. I couldn't keep something as incredible as that all to myself.

Jackie was almost as excited as I was.

He kissed you? Oh, Patty! He's so cute!

She even helped me hatch a plan to get out of the house on Friday.

There's a Ward dance on Friday. He can

pick you up there.

I hardly ever went to Ward dances. Transportation was always an issue.

Mom can drop you off. We'll tell her you

have a ride home.

Who knew my sister could be so devious?

And who knew if her plan would work?

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It Worked Great

You see, coed church functions were meant to relieve the teen

hormonal thing, with close

enough supervision to assure the chastity thing.

I'm glad you want to go,

Mom said.
It's about time

you discovered boys.

If only she knew! Should she know? Part of me felt guilty

that I hadn't confided. The smarter

part told me to keep my mouth

clamped tight. "What about Dad?"

Don't you worry about your father. Even he knows

you have to grow up sometime.

Growing up was one thing.

Discovering boys yet another.

But lying about the basic "who, when, and where" was fundamentally wrong.

Did I have another choice?

A nice young man is in God's

plans for you. Your father and I

can't argue with that.

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Now
Mom
spoke for God. Did

He define "nice young man" as an LDS boy with a testimony?

And would my parents argue

when I told them I wanted more?

And you're never going to find

that young man sitting around the house every Friday night.

Valid point, one
I
wouldn't argue

with, though I might have before.

I had my way out, my pass to Brent's party. What would

happen after that, I had no clue.

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J
ournal Entry, April 1

Went to a party at Brent's

last night. Okay, more like a drink-smoke-and-make-out fest.

But, hey, I was with Derek, and for the first time in my life, people looked at nie with respect.

Maybe even envy.

The Ward dance started at seven.

Derek picked me up at eight.

By nine, he had convinced me to try a sip of his beer. "Jesus

turned water into wine, didn't He?"

True, but Jesus had little to do with LDS doctrine.

Still, I'd considered the possibility

all week. Ym probably already damned, for dating a nonbeliever. What could a sip- or three orfour--ofbeer hurt?

Odd taste, not great, but drink

enough, who cares?

luoose. I let loose. Not all the way

loose, but I laughed at not-real-funny

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jokes and. let Derek pull me up into his lap. And when he kissed me,

I full-on kissed back.

I even let his hands wander.

At first I said no, of course.

I really thought I wasn't at all

that kind of girl.

Guess what.

I am!

He was good, too. First he rubbed

my back. Then he lifted my hair and kissed my neck, and I've

never had goose bumps like that before.

Then he slid his hands around the front of me, lifting my breasts and touching my nipples.

I wouldn't let him go under my blouse but even over my clothes, the way he made my body

feel is hard to describe.

Alive.

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On edge.

In need.

In danger of spontaneous comhustion.

Virtue was the last thing on my mind.

Then his watch heeped. Eleven.

Early to leave, but I wasn't allowed at that ball, anyway.

Derek took me home, and. as we

kissed a very long good-bye,

I hoped everyone was asleep so I'd be immune to questions.

Everyone was, except Jackie.

She wanted. every last detail.

But how could I tell her all she wanted to know without admitting a crisis infaith?

124

125

I'd Like to Tell You

I'd fallen head over heels in love with Derek. I did feel something, but it wasn't the hearts and flowers

kind of love in my

dog-eared

books.

Looking back, it seems I should

have been in love with him. We did

all the things two people in love were supposed to do. Maybe

more.

I wanted to be with him all the time, wanted the taste of his lips on mine, his roaming fingers on my hungry skin. His

fire to thaw

my ice.

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But, though I was very much in lust with him, I knew from the Start we were nothing like "forever."

Maybe because forever is such a scary

place.

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Love or Lust

The need to be with Derek was intense.

Before school. Düring school.

After school. Instead of school. Saturdays.

Friday evenings, when I could.

I suppose I got careless about who knew. And how much they knew.

Brent and Melina tolerated the tryst; sometimes we rode quads together.

Justin and Tiffany mostly ignored us, unless it was Derek's turn to score beer.

Becca and Emily pretended interest.

Later, I found out why.

Ms. Rose winked and slipped me her personal copy of
Sappho's Leap.

Hand in hand with her new boyfriend,

Carmen flashed smiles. Evil smiles.

I kept thinking once everyone got

used to the idea, things would come easier.

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But Everything Came Härder

Seminary.

Sacrament meetings.

Sunday rituals.

Too many questions, not enough answers.

Where did free will fit here?

Homerooms.

Classrooms.

Crowded hallways.

No place to hide to feed the growing hunger.

Derek's. And mine.

Kitchen duty.

Diaper duty.

Daughterly duty.

Too many "had to"s, left not enough time for "want to"s.

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Honesty.

Sobriety.

My virginity.

No way to regain the first two, I almost

gave away the last.

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One Problem with Alcohol

Is the more you drink it the more you want it.

If a little lets you forget a bit of your pain, more lets you crawl into a fuzzy space where

nothing hurts at all. Amen.

Saturdays became drinking

days--don't think the irony is one iota lost on me.

Derek would meet me in

. the desert, painkiller in hand. First beer, then hard

stuff. The only thing I insisted on was no Johnnie WB.

Okay, it's a weird psychology but something inside of me

maintained only Johnnie

could hook me for good.

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The higher I got, the harder it got to hang on to my jeans.

Derek was skillful, coloring his need to look like desire, like I was all he'd ever wanted.

But every time I came really

close to just giving in, I

saw faces: Our bishop, reciting,