After going through it, this meant Mom gave me plenty of speeches about saving myself for the right one and not to get too serious, too young. When I first started high school and the lectures ramped up even more, I took her words to heart. When you hear them all the time growing up, you can’t help but let those words absorb into your brain and stick. No boy really interested me anyway. Not like that. I went out with Jonah because he was easy to talk to and I felt the need to have a boyfriend like everyone else.
But I didn’t have a burning need to be with him. And I definitely wasn’t going to have sex with him, no matter how badly he wanted to have it with me.
Mom’s lecture actually worked.
“Uh…what? What’s your plan tonight?” she asks, when I still haven’t said anything.
“I’m going to hang out with Beck.” I smile, going for casual. No big deal. Just spending time on a Saturday night with my secret crush after I let him finger me last night in the back of his 4Runner.
My cheeks threaten to go hot and I will myself not to blush.
“Beck Callahan?” Her brows shoot up.
I nod, hoping I don’t have to explain myself.
“As friends?” She sounds skeptical. I’ve never revealed my feelings about Beck to her, because I knew I’d get the third degree.
“Sure,” I say way too quickly.
“Sure?” Her brows rise even higher, if that’s possible. “Is this a date?”
“He didn’t call it a date. He asked if I wanted to hang out.”
“I thought he had a girlfriend.”
“They broke up.”
“I see.” That’s all she says.
I see.
Yeah, she probably sees more than I want her to.
My shoulders deflate. I don’t need a speech. Not tonight. “It’s no big deal, Mom. We’re just going to grab something to eat. Talk for a while. I might even come home early.”
“Be home by eleven,” she says.
“Mom.” This time, I do roll my eyes, and I see her gaze flare with irritation. “My curfew on the weekend is midnight.”
“When you’re with your friends.”
“Beck is my friend.”
“Who happens to be a boy.”
“So?” I turn my back on her and kneel down, opening the bottom drawer of the old dresser I keep in my closet, so I can go through my shorts. “It’s nothing.”
I’m such a liar. Tonight with Beck could be…
Everything.
“Do you like him?”
“I’ve liked him for years. He’s a good friend. You used to invite him over for playdates,” I remind her.
“When you were nine.” She laughs, but the sound lacks humor. “That girl he was with before, she’s a year older than you, right?”
“Yeah.” I find the pair of shorts I want, but I don’t hold them up in front of Mom. She’d probably freak out and declare them too short, and with too big of holes in the front.
All of that is true, but I don’t need to call attention to it.
“I’m sure they’ve had sex then.”
I slam the drawer shut and rise to my full height before I whirl on her. “Stop with the sex speech, okay? I know what I’m doing. I’m almost eighteen.”
In a matter of weeks, actually.
“I know you are. You’re very responsible, and I’m so grateful for that, but Addie, this boy is full of testosterone and once they’ve already done it, they always want to do it,” Mom says.
I laugh nervously, trying to play this off. “You make him sound like a sex addict.”
“Teenage boys are horny. It’s a known fact.”
I drop my clothes on top of the other dresser in my room and cover my ears. “I hate that you just said that word.”
“What? Horny? Please. You kids say far worse.”
“No one wants to hear their mom say it.” I open the top drawer and rifle through my underwear, slipping out a lacy thong as discreetly as possible before I quickly hide it inside my folded shorts.
I slam the drawer shut and turn like I’m going to leave my room for the bathroom across the hall, but Mom blocks me.
“Aren’t you going to grab a fresh bra?” she asks.
She didn’t miss a beat, did she? I’m sure she noticed the lacy thong. This is so…humiliating. “The shirt I’m going to wear…a bra doesn’t work with it.”
“Maybe you should find another shirt then.” She rests her hands on her hips, glaring at me.
“Mom.” I’m whining and I hate it, so l snap my lips shut, clear my throat and start all over again. “The shirt isn’t that revealing. The top is really tight. It’ll keep my boobs contained. A bra will ruin the look.”
Her lips thin. “Hold up the shirt again.”
I do, praying she doesn’t make me switch it out. The shorts were a nice touch last night, but the T-shirt I had on was plain. Boring. Normal.
I want to spice it up tonight, though I get the feeling my mother is going to ruin my entire vibe.
“I should tell you no,” she says, her gaze lifting from the shirt to meet my eyes. “But go ahead. This time, I’ll let you wear it.”
I break out into a smile, quietly hating on the “this time” comment. “Thanks Mom.”
“But you have to be home by eleven.”
“What? Come on!”
“Or you wear a different shirt.”
This is blackmail. And we’re wasting valuable time arguing, when I should already be halfway done with my shower.
“Eleven thirty,” I bargain.
“Ten thirty.”
“Mom!”
She sighs. “Fine. Eleven thirty and not a minute later.”
“Thank you.” I go to walk by her and drop a kiss on her cheek before I head for my bathroom.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she calls after me.
I don’t answer her, slamming the door before she can say something else.
No way can I make that promise. After last night…
I’m pretty positive I can be persuaded by Beck Callahan to do almost anything.
I’m running late and am almost done getting ready when I get a text from Beck at exactly 7:01.
Beck: I’m outside your house. Want me to come to the door?
Me: It’s okay. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be right out.
Beck: No problem.
I slip some tiny gold hoops in my ears. Put on my favorite delicate gold chain necklace I got for Christmas last year. I washed and blow dried my hair and even curled the ends a little bit, but not too much.
I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, but I had to get that fried food smell off of me.
The top I’m wearing is a pale blue with the tiniest, most delicate floral print scattered across it. The sleeves come almost to my elbows and they’re billowy, with little ties at the end. It’s the square bodice in the front and back that my mother has an issue with. It dips low, but the fabric is ruched, so it clings to my chest tightly.
No bra necessary.
Sexy, sexy, sexy, which is a look I never strive for. But I want to look sexy for Beck. I want to witness that glow of appreciation in his eyes when he first sees me.