Chapter Four (Alex Carr)

Alex's Point of View

Chapter 4 - Alex Carr 

I’d just barely opened the front door to my house, when my phone started ringing. James’ name shone in bold, white letters on the screen. I’d just dropped Cameron off at his friend’s house; he didn’t have a car here to drive himself, and Brynn was at her roommate’s house, getting ready for a party. They’d both be gone all night. I contemplated letting the phone ring until it eventually sent him to voicemail, but I didn’t. I held the phone up to my ear. 

“Hey, babe. Wanna hang out?” he asked.

No.

“Uh, sure,” I heard myself say.

“Awesome. On my way over.”

I hung up. “Godammit.”

No one was home, so I didn’t have an excuse for him not to come. He lived close; everyone lived close. I probably had about ten minutes to myself before he would be here. I frantically bounced about my house, unsure of what to do, trying to get excited for my boyfriend to come over. I stood up and sat down over and over, shaking my hands out, unable to feel comfortable enough to ease my nerves. I grabbed a pillow off my couch, slammed it to my face, and let out an ear-piercing scream.

You’re not gay, you’re not gay, you’re not gay.

I said it aloud. “You’re not gay, you’re not gay, you’re not gay.”

What the f**k am I doing?

It was seven thirty, and I knew that since he waited all day to make this call, he probably didn’t just want to watch a movie. The amount of anxiety I was feeling was uncomfortably intense, and I felt like I needed to kick something. Or scream. Or anything to let .

It wasn’t like he was forcing me to do anything, so why was I forcing myself? I couldn’t figure out why I felt the need to appeal to his wants and needs but not my own. I was being ridiculous and antsy, stomach churning like I could throw up from the anxiety at any minute. 

I looked down at my outfit. Black jeans, a navy tank top. Do I have to dress up for this if he’s just going to undress me?

I heard a car outside. A car door slam. Footsteps were audible from the open window. It wasn’t a good thing that I felt like I was in a horror movie. I was the girl about to scream, horrified by the appearance of the newly introduced villain. The first one killed- plucked off and gutted so quickly I was merely an afterthought, hardly mourned by anyone at all. Anticipation built up inside me; I felt nauseous. The sharp knock at the door was its own form of a jump-scare. I walked to the door, legs oddly shaky and opened it. 

I took in the sight of what I’d been dreading so terribly. James really was beautiful; he had dark, curly hair with natural, blonde highlights, like surfers usually do. He had tanned skin that was, for lack of a better term, perfect. His eyes glistened blue, contrasting brilliantly against his skin and hair. He was tall and strong; he’d been playing basketball since he was little, and that’s when he’d met Wesley, on the team at our school. 

He pulled me towards him with strong hands, smiling a wide smile. “Hey, babe.”

I smiled a little, breathing in the strong masculine scent of his cologne, hoping I looked convincing. “Hey.”

He bent down to kiss me. I let his lips lock on mine, trying not to think too much. Pulling away, he looked at me. “Feel like watching a movie?”

He sat down on the couch, his legs spread wide apart from each other. I sat down a few inches away from him, and without missing a beat, he pulled me towards him, closing the gap between us. I stiffened and forced myself to relax again, letting my head rest on his shoulder.  It’s okay; he’s your boyfriend.

He navigated the TV’s on-demand options, searching for something to watch. He asked if I wanted to watch a scary movie. My snarky conscience battled with itself.

Of course, and I’ll cling to you during the scary parts, so you can “console”  me to guts and gore flashing across the screen? Sounds like a good way to lose my virginity.

“No, not really,” I sighed.

“Okay, how about something new we haven’t seen?” 

“Sure.”

He selected Sing Street, a movie that I had, in fact, already seen, but I didn’t feel like prolonging this process or doing any more talking than necessary. As the movie played, he inched closer and closer to me, touching me more and more. It reminded me of the way Charlie had acted toward Della during the movie, only James and I had already kissed, so I knew he was building up to more. 

Suddenly, he turned to face me. “Alex?”

I faced him back. “James?” 

“Uh, so I mean this in the most gallant and gentlemanly way possible, but do you not wanna have sex with me?”

I was taken aback by his forwardness. “Uh, I mean, I, uh-” I took a deep breath. “Why would you think that?”

“You just kinda dodge the subject, I guess, and we’ve been dating for six months already… I don’t know.” 

“I guess, maybe I just want our first time to be special,” I lied hideously. Jesus, Alex, tell the truth for once in your life. “I’m kinda waiting for the right moment, so, uh- I don’t know-”

“You don’t have to wait for a perfect moment for me,” he said in a reassuring tone that did not reassure me at all. “It isn’t my first time, so I don’t need it to be special. I should be making it special for you, if anything.” 

I nodded, finding myself upset that he’d compared me to a previous girl he’d slept with. He didn’t need our first time to be special because he’d already slept with other people before? I didn’t understand that mindset, but I knew he meant well. I didn’t know why I was getting so cagey; it’s not like I hadn’t been dealing with this the whole time. Suddenly, everything just felt infuriating.

I shook my head, beginning to feel the guilt for dragging on this relationship set in. “I don’t need you to plan anything for me, James. It doesn’t have to be, like, really special or anything.”

I saw a glimmer in his eye as a cunning grin spread across his sun-kissed, surfer-boy skin. He thought he was being cute and clever, but all I felt was fear. 

“Well, in that case…” he murmured, his tone growing more serious. He leaned in and kissed me intensely, his tongue weaving its way into my mouth. As he pulled back, he playfully bit my lip. “How’s this for special?”

I sighed out a sort of involuntary nervous laugh. Is this really happening?

His lips pecked their way down my neck and chest, pulling off my tank top with unnerving ease. He pressed my body down towards the couch, positioning himself on top of me, breathing heavily, his blatant experience glaring. I was in nothing but a bra and jeans, starting to feel really anxious; we’d never gotten much farther than this, and James was only picking up steam. I began to freeze up; James was oblivious to my discomfort, busy kissing his way down my stomach. He hesitated at the line of my jeans, but pulled them down and off of my feet anyway, tossing them to the side. He took off his own shirt, and I couldn’t help but notice the prominent abs he possessed that did nothing for me and wonders for most other girls. He started to make his way back up again, kissing a trail of his love that I could not reciprocate. He spoke in between kisses, but panic overrode my brain, and I couldn’t make any of it out.
He stopped at my bra line for a moment, kissing my skin with more intensity, confusing me for a moment before I understood that he was giving me a hickey. His hands found its way to my back, fumbling desperately with the clasp of my bra. I felt the hooks fall apart from behind each other, and I started hyperventilating. 

Holy f**k, Alex, pull it together! It’s gonna be f*****g fine!

James took my heavy breathing as a good sign, proceeding to take off my bra all the way. He took a look at my face as he straightened up slightly and stopped for a second. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, clearly worried.

I nodded, forcing a smile. He bent back down to kiss me again, a little hesitantly.

F**k. You’re a liar. You’re a dirty, lesbian liar. What you’re doing is wrong. Say something, stay something, say someth-

“C-can we please s-stop for a minute?” I stuttered through the jagged breaths, putting a hand on his shoulder to create a distance between us.

Before asking any questions, he handed me a blanket draped over the back of the couch to cover up my bare top half. 

“Hey,” he whispered softly. “What is it?”

His face was contorted with confusion, pain, panic. I felt terrible. He went to touch me and thought better of it, pulling his hand away abruptly before it could make contact. 

“I’m sorry, James. I don’t-” I choked. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, God, please do not be sorry, Alex. This is your first time; It’s okay to be nervous.”

I ignored his wrongful assumption, grateful for his patience and lack of irritation. He actually did put his hand on my shoulder this time, and I flinched. He lifted it away, nodding. So I sat there, topless in my underwear, covered by nothing but a knit blanket, and he sat there, shirtless, chest shiny with the beginnings of sweat drops. 

In that moment, I wished for nothing more than for him to yell at me. I wanted him to be furious and angry and mean. I didn’t want his sweet, worried voice anywhere near me. It would have been much easier to push away the guilt if he were a bad guy. If I could’ve hated him and sent him off and never seen him again. God d****t. F**k.
Frozen, I focused on nothing but my breathing as it left my mouth in a way that suggested I’d just finished a marathon. We both looked forward at the movie still playing, neither of us really watching it, awkward discomfort thick in the air around us. 

After what I could only assume was half an hour, he looked over at me again. “Alex?”

I turned my head, blinking. 

“Do you want me to leave?”

“I- I- it’s not that I-”

He closed his eyes, signaling me to be quiet. “Okay. I can leave now and call you later, so you can get some space, or I stay here with you until you’re okay. If you need, I can stay over… sleep on the couch or something. It’s just that you’re home alone, and I don’t want to leave you hanging.”

He really was a sweet guy. I knew that this time he asked to stay over, he was really only interested in being there to help me. I wished, in that moment, that he truly was the villain in a horror movie, so I didn’t feel like complete s**t. I stared at him, not sure how to respond. I wanted him to leave, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

He took my lack of response as his answer. “Hey, It’s really okay if you want me to  leave. Are you gonna be alright alone?”

“Yeah, you can go home. I think I just wanna sleep,” I said, my voice raspy due to the intense breathing from the almost-sex.

“You sure?”

I nodded. “I’ll be okay. Cameron will be home soon.” 

Panic flashed across his face. I shook my head. “I’m not going to tell him; you didn’t do anything wrong.” I also had no idea when or if Cameron was coming home that night. 

He nodded, pulled on his t-shirt, kissed me quickly on the head, and headed out the door. 

As soon as I heard his car pull away, I let out a desperate sob. I hadn’t been expecting to lose it like this, but I cried so hard that I choked, clinging to the knit blanket covering my nearly naked body with white-knuckled fists. 

“F**k!” I screamed, tears streaming down my face, snot pouring out of my nose. 

I couldn’t get myself to move, paralyzed with a fear that I could not place. The tears lasted until my tear ducts were empty and my throat was searing in excruciating pain. 

Raw and tired, I finally pulled myself to my feet, wrapped in the blanket. I looked blankly at my clothes that were scattered around the couch and trudged up the stairs without them. I locked myself in my bedroom and dropped the blanket in front of the mirror. 

I saw a red-eyed, puffy-faced, almost completely naked girl staring back at me. Scanning over myself, I tried to locate the source of trauma that induced my tears to fall. He hadn’t hurt me, and I knew he never would. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and I didn’t ask him to stop, until I did. But I felt stripped of life, fear and pain residing in every thought, every breath, ever corner of my mind. It was my own fault. Stepping closer, I took notice of the hickey on my left b**b. It was reddish and kind of purple, only about the size of a dollar coin. It matched the ones that Brynn sometimes came home with and the ones that could be found on high-schoolers after a weekend of partying. I’d always wondered about hickies; they didn’t feel bad, of course, and I knew my situation was apart from many others, but it wasn’t anything amazing. Maybe it would’ve been different under other circumstances. 

I stumbled to the shower. It was only ten thirty. I felt disgusting and dirty. I cried some more in the shower; apparently my ducts still had something left in them. I stood under the burning hot water until my skin was raw. The water blanketed my naked body, uncomfortably hot, my skin turning bright red all over from the heat. I wanted nothing more than the way I felt to be washed off of me, away with the water. I wanted this anxiety to fall down the drain and move on. But I was stuck there, sobbing in the shower, unable to catch my breath. I don’t think I’d ever felt so ugly. I used so much soap, scrubbing all the places he’d marked me with kisses over and over again. Guilt. I feel guilt. I feel nauseous, and I feel guilty. Why? 

I could not place how long I’d been in there before I sat down, letting the water fall over me, fully accustomed to the blazing hotness of the water. I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to calm myself so that each jagged breath would come easier. They never did, coming in gross hiccups, lips turning numb and tingly from the hyperventilation. 

I decided to lay down, still hugging my knees to my chest. I wondered how someone would react if they saw me this way. They surely would not regard me as sane by any means. I didn’t even know why I was crying so much. 

When I finally got out, I pulled on sweatpants and a big jacket, not wanting to have to see my body. I crawled into my bed, my breathing still shaky but not as worrisome as before. I stared at the wall, unmoving. I tried to fall asleep to get through the remaining hours of darkness, but whenever I closed my eyes, the image of James on top of me devoured my subconscious. After the fourth attempt at sleep, I threw my blankets off of my body aggressively, feeling as though they were suddenly crushing me. I wrapped my arms around myself. I squeezed. Make it stop. Make it f*****g stop. What the f**k is wrong with me? What the f**k is wrong with me? 

The panic rising in my chest was unbearable. Tears ran down my face again, like a silent river; I hugged myself tighter, shaking. 

It wasn’t that the moment with James had felt bad; it had just felt wrong. I knew, more than ever, in that moment, I was not meant to be with him. I felt intimidated and threatened by the male presence literally hovering above me, a physical reminder of my poor decision to pursue this relationship, despite what my heart told me. I was terrified. He left me with an unsettled, nauseous feeling. I did not want to lose my virginity to a man. Not that I even thought virginity was all that special, no real or metaphorical cherry-popping that clouded my judgement. I didn’t even know if I thought sex was a big deal, but I didn’t want to go too far and not be able to say no. To feel so helpless and terrified to stop it that I would just let it happen. 

I heard a knock at my door. Glancing at my clock, I found that it was 2:45 in the morning. 

“Alex?” It was Cameron; his worried voice traveled under the doorframe. “Hey, kiddo, are you alright?” 

I could do nothing but whimper in response. I heard him inhale sharply.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

I got up to unlock the door and crawled back into my bed. He opened it slowly, stepping inside. Wordlessly, he climbed into bed with me and hugged me close to him. He put the covers over us, and I didn’t have the will to tell him that I’d thrown them off for a reason. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked, rubbing my arm in a supportive gesture.

I shook my head, another weak, lame sounding whimper escaping my lips.

“Later?” He was worried.

“Later,” I sighed, my voice weak.

“Do you want me to sleep in here with you tonight?”

I hesitated. “I don’t wanna sleep here. Do you think you can drive me to Jade’s? I know it’s late, I just-”

“Alex?”

I stopped. 

“Sorry, just- your jeans. And your shirt. Uh, your bra. They’re downstairs.”

“I, uh-“

“Your boyfriend’s jacket. Is, uh, downstairs.”

“Oh-”

“Did he hurt you?” I recognized that he’d attempted to say it in a lighter tone than he would’ve if I weren’t in this state. I didn’t answer. 

“Did he f*****g hurt you, Alex?” The edge in his voice was scary to say the least. 

“I don’t wanna t-“

Cameron was tensing up. His voice was getting harsher. Less hushed. “I’ll f*****g kill him. What did he f*****g-“

“He didn’t hurt me. I promise I’m fine. Please just- can we please talk about this later? Don’t worry about him. Or me. I just need to go to Jade’s.”

He stopped, surrendering. “Okay, sure.”

“I just don’t want to talk about it yet. And you’re my brother, so I don’t want to talk about this with you until I can hold myself together. I don’t want you to kill anyone.”

He nodded, standing. “Okay. I can pick you up in the morning, if you want.”

“Thank you.”

We walked down the stairs, his arm around my shoulders. Making our way to the car, he didn’t let me go until I had to get inside. He drove slowly, watching me carefully as we moved down the street. I called Jade on the way over to let her know I was coming, but she didn’t pick up. We got there at around three in the morning. I felt like I was living in a dream; it was almost cinematic.

I got out of the car with the key Jade had given me to her house and waved goodbye to Cameron. He watched me walk to the door, and I heard him drive away once I got inside. I made a beeline for Jade’s room- up the stairs and around the first corner. We’d made an agreement that we could stay the night at each other’s houses, no questions asked, if ever needed. Every so often, I’d wake up, and Jade would be in bed next to me. I spent the night at Jade’s frequently especially when I was staying in my house alone, but I rarely ever came over unannounced.

I found that she was sound asleep, her nose whistling ever so slightly with each breath. I got into her bed and pulled the blanket up over my chest. She stirred, waking slightly. 

“Hey, Jade,” I whispered. “It’s just me.”

“Mm,” she mumbled, turning over. 

She drifted off again, and I tried to get comfortable. It didn’t take long before I was completely comatose. That much crying will really take it out of you. 

Jade’s presence, though sleeping, was comforting and reassuring. It was familiar, and I knew I could relax and let the panic subside. I finally felt safe.