I do as I’m told. The song starts playing through the speakers.
“I like it. You have good taste. Clearly, I underestimated you.”
He chuckles. “So you thought I had bad taste in music? Is it because I want to become a priest?”
I nod, slightly embarrassed. “Sorry.” I laugh awkwardly, settling back in my seat. “I thought you listened to whatever priests or seminarians listened to, to stay focused. Chanting songs or something.”
“Are you stereotyping me right now?” he points out, sounding amused.
“Oh, crap. I totally am. I didn’t think about it—”
“Relax, Grace. I’m only messing with you. But yeah, I save those for when I’m having a particularly, um, trying day.”
I want to ask him what he means by that, but then it occurs to me that he could be speaking about sex. Sol’s an eighteen-year-old guy. And from what I’ve seen and read about boys and their wild hormones, well, he must be very good at self-control.
“Are you going to miss it when you go to the seminary?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“Miss what?”
“Hanging out with your friends? Freedom?” I pause, then add, “Sex?”
He chokes and starts coughing, his cheeks flushing red. “It’s not like I’m going to prison.” His index finger starts tapping a fast beat on the steering wheel. He’s nervous now. “You can’t miss what you’ve never had, I guess.”
And I don’t need to ask to know he’s talking about sex.
My legs slide down the seat as I twist my body to face him. “You’re a virgin?” How is that even possible?
“Yes.” He shifts in his seat uncomfortably, pinning me with a frown. “Why are you so surprised?”
“Because . . .” I start, then stop myself when his frown deepens. “I mean, the other day you admitted you’d never gone on a date and now this. You can’t seriously tell me girls haven’t thrown themselves at you.”
“I’ve had a few offers.” He shrugs. “I wasn’t interested.”
He’s looking at me intently before returning his eyes on the road, and I’m afraid to read what’s behind that look.
“Oh.” I purse my lips. “Wow.” Well, look at that, a guy who values virginity. “Okay. Please don’t take this the wrong way.”
He gives me a wary look.
“You have this angelic vibe going on, but then you smile like you did back at the garage and bam! It’s . . . I don’t know, there’s a little bit of wicked hidden under there, somewhere.” I shrug nonchalantly.
He chuckles. “You make me sound so badass. What about you, Gracie? Got any ounce of wicked in you?”
I glance out the window and bite my bottom lip. “Do you believe the rumors about me?” I face him again. I need to see his reaction to my question.
Humor drains from his face. “No.”
I pull my legs back up and hug them to my chest. The memory of that night after the pep rally flashes inside my head, haunting me. I wince, shutting my eyes.
Taking a shaky breath, I say, “Gavin and I, we’d been going out for a few weeks and he’d been hinting about us having sex. Then after the pep rally, we started fooling around in his car. It got heavy pretty quick. At first, I didn’t think too much of it. I was a lot more innocent and trusting back then, so I just went along with whatever he was doing.
“But when he became too intense with his touches, I realized his intentions. I got uncomfortable, so I stopped him and demanded he take me home. Which he did, but he was pretty pissed about it. He called me a cock tease.” I swallow the lump now blocking my throat, then whisper, “‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Like mother, like daughter.’ That’s what he said before he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the car. He left me standing outside my apartment, confused and hurt, and drove off. I thought—I thought he loved me.”
I take a deep breath, remembering how my mom had freaked out when I entered the apartment, crying with my clothes in disarray. “Nothing happened, but—” I stop talking and stare ahead. “When I arrived at school the next day, rumors were already circulating that Gavin and I had sex the night before and that he dumped me because I was sleeping with other guys. I shouldn’t have let them victimize me like that. Naturally, everyone believed him without a second thought, and I became the school’s official slut.”
I bite my cheek and exhale. “Lithium” by Nirvana fills the silence. Eventually, I add in a small voice, “So, yes, I’m still a virgin, too.”
At some point during all this, he’d parked his truck on the side of the road.
From the corner of my eye, I see Sol’s hand move. He reaches for me, and his long fingers circle my neck, pulling me toward him.
At first, I resist, too embarrassed to move.
What if he pities me? I don’t want his pity. Or anybody else’s, for that matter.
“Come here,” he murmurs in a soft voice. His gentleness is my undoing.
Quickly, my fingers unbuckle my seat belt. I move closer to him, burying the side of my face into his shoulder, fighting back tears. Gavin is not worth my tears.
Silently, Sol starts driving again, and we stay like that for the rest of the drive.
“What Gavin said after Mass . . . is it true? Did you really hit him?”
Sol’s body tenses. I lift my head to meet his gaze, but he’s staring straight ahead, jaw clenched.
“Yes.”
His answer leaves me breathless for a few heartbeats. No one has ever stood up or fought for me, other than my mom. “Why did you do it?”
“He hurt you, Grace. How could I not?” Sol’s words are barely audible.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
That sound increases in volume and speed in my ears as his words play on repeat in my head.
Oh, gosh. “Thank you.”
His chest rises as he inhales deeply. He doesn’t say anything for several seconds. He sighs, then says, “I might not be a connoisseur on how to treat women, but what he did, it wasn’t right.”
Sitting here in Sol’s truck, leaning into him like he’s my anchor, I feel the heaviness that has been following me for three long years slowly melt away. Having Sol’s hand cupped around my nape protectively breaks me and eases the pain in me at the same time.
I’d never told anyone other than my mom what happened that night.
But I didn’t even hesitate with Sol. I trust him. And that both exhilarates and scares me.
When we arrive at Ranger’s Cove, I park the truck and jump out. My thoughts are still consumed by what Grace told me. I’m not one to hate. It goes against what I am and what I stand for. I’ve always been taught to forgive and be understanding. But Gavin? I could hate him easily. In fact, I think maybe I do.
“Love your enemies and do good to those who hate you.” Luke 6:27.
For once in my life, I wish I could get a one-day hall pass to feel all the emotions I hold back. I bet my soul would be lighter for it.
“You okay?” Grace asks, tentatively touching my arm, and some of the tension melts away.
I nod, forcing a smile, unable to form words for fear of speaking what’s really on my mind. We’re here to have fun, and I don’t want to be a killjoy.