Tilt (53 page)

alone? Chad will be back later.

I shake my head. “No problem.

Plenty to keep me occupied.”

Hope he doesn’t find out just

how much. “You guys have fun.”

Now Cassie appears in a tight

pink dress that doesn’t hide a whole

lot.
Okay, I’m ready. Don’t wait up.

We’ll probably be late.
She takes

Dad’s hand and off they go.

I text Lucas that the coast is clear,

then go to the bathroom. A little

more makeup is required, now

that it won’t draw too much attention

from anyone but Lucas. I also change

into a skirt and clingy long-sleeved tee.

I’m going for the “wowza” look.

Not quite as sexy as Cassie, but

enough, I hope, to make Lucas never

want to let go of me. I’ll do just about

anything to keep him hanging on.

He Makes Me Wait

Almost an hour. I throw open

the passenger door. “What took

so long?” But the “what” slams into

me like a booze-flavored wave.

Do you want to get in or not?

Oh God. I’ve made him mad.

“Of course I do. Sorry. It’s just

I should probably be back by eleven

and I want to be with you as much

as I can.” I plop down on the seat,

hike my skirt a bit, some weird

apology, for what I’m not sure.

That’s better,
he says, pulling

me to him for a kiss. He tastes

of weed and alcohol, but I don’t

care, and I give him as good as

he gives me. His spare hand lands

on my exposed thigh, starts to creep.

I leave it there, but say, “Not here.

I think the neighbors are spies.”

He laughs, thank goodness.

Okay. Let’s go someplace private.

It isn’t far to a little turnout along

the river. Half of me wants to be here.

The other half is whispering,

“This isn’t good. This can’t be good.

You know what he’s after, right?”

Scenes from my birthday movie

start flashing in my head. And then

I hear Mom warning, “You’re not

ready for sex. You’re not old enough.”

And I wonder if I am. And I think, really,

I’m not. I’m still not that kind of girl.

Yet, I Let Him Kiss Me

And it’s the kind of kiss that makes

goose bumps break out all over my body.

He pulls me into his lap, licks down

my neck, to the curve of my shirt.

Take it off,
he says, and as if he has

hypnotized me, I do exactly as I’m told.

Quickly, his hands work the hooks

of my bra and before I can even think

to say no, my entire upper body

is bared.
That’s it, my pretty little girl.

He moves to kiss my nipples, and

though I want to say no, I can’t. It feels

good. Great. Amazing. Beneath my skirt,

I feel him grow hard against the thin

barrier of my panties. I like how that

feels, too. But I’m still not ready. “Stop.”

His mouth is around my nipple

and he mumbles,
Why?
All innocent.

Now his lips move an inch or so

higher and he starts to suck, softly

at first, then harder. It is crazy good

and it makes me moan but when

he tries to slide down my panties

I know I can’t. Not yet. “I . . . I have

my period.” It’s a lie, but he can’t

know that, and it’s better than saying

I’m too young. He stiffens. Stops.

Then he says,
We can do something

else then.
He lifts me up, undoes

his zipper and this is no movie

when he frees his erection and shows

me exactly how to use my mouth

to get him off. I wish I could say

I don’t like it. But somehow I do.

Lucas

Getting Off

Is easy. You don’t even need

two to make it happen. The proper

grip with a slippery fist, whoopee,

there it goes. But man does not live

by ejaculation alone. There’s

the

whole pursue-and-conquer

thing to consider, which is why

loose girls aren’t all that much

fun.

Okay, maybe I’m a bit warped

that way, but hard-to-get

turns me on. Besides, I kind

of like playing teacher, which

is

why I’m so patient with this

little girl, who will so be worth

the wait. Oh yes, I plan on

winning

a major jackpot, taking her all

the way for the very first time.

If that means patience, okay

by me. It’s only part of

the game.

Mikayla

Patience

That’s what Dr. Ortega says to have

now, at sixteen weeks pregnant.

Well into my second trimester, the risk

of miscarriage has largely passed and

my baby is approximately the size

of an avocado, with ears and toenails

and a beating heart. The heart part

is true. I’ve heard it. As for the rest,

I’ll have to take her word for it until

after my ultrasound. It’s a whole month

away. At twenty weeks, we can find out

if it’s a boy or a girl. Meanwhile, I have

some decisions to make. Mom and I are

going to talk to my counselor, Mr. Taylor.

We’re in the office, waiting. And, though

I’m not showing yet, I feel like everyone

knows why we’re here. The secretary

keeps giving me one of those looks

that says,
Hello? Haven’t you heard

about birth control?
I try to return

a look that yells, “What the fuck

business is it of yours?” But I fail

miserably, turn my eyes toward

the checkerboard linoleum floor.

How does she know, anyway? Aren’t

counselors supposed to keep stuff

like this quiet? I’m not showing yet.

At least, I don’t think I am. I stare

down at my belly. Push my shirt flat.

Nope. Not yet. So why do I suspect

that everyone passing through—teachers,

students, some who I know and many

I don’t, are completely aware of me

and why I’m here? My face goes hot.

I Am Semi-Saved

By Mr. Taylor’s appearance at his

door.
Mikayla? Mrs. Carlisle? Please

come in.
Suddenly, I want to run.

But I don’t. Instead, I follow Mom

inside his clean, starched office.

The man is totally anal. Even his desk

is clean. We settle into hard plastic

chairs, most certainly designed to deny

comfort.
Tell me what I can do for you.

Mom looks at me and, okay, it’s my

place to speak up. But I’ve lost my voice.

Lost my confidence. This confession

is all about judgment. Mom speaks

for me.
Um . . . well . . .
Then, straight

out,
Mikayla is pregnant. We need to

know what options she has regarding

her schooling. She wants to graduate,

of course.
She turns to me.
Right?

Now they’re both staring at me.

“Well, of course I want to graduate.

Why would that have changed?”

Mr. Taylor’s jaw stiffens.
Ahem.

Well . . . uh . . . congratulations

or sorry, depending.
He shuffles

the two pieces of paper on his desk.

Ahem. You do have options. You can