Forever for a Year(60)

48

Trevor takes off Carolina’s bra

The Sunday after homecoming something awesome happened. My parents took Lily downtown like she had been begging them to do for months. I was supposed to go, but I said I was too tired after the dance. I invited Carolina over and her mom dropped her off. As soon as she walked through the front door, I kissed her. I was so excited, I had to keep kissing her right there. We made out in my living room, which we had never done. It felt strange, and Carolina kept thinking my parents would come home. It felt dangerous, not dangerous, I suppose, but thrilling. Which made it more fun and made me want to keep kissing her even more. I repeated, over and over, that my parents would be gone all day. Then we took off our shirts. And she reached down my pants. Which felt incredible, like always, but … I don’t know. I wanted a new kind of incredible too.

I said, “Can I take off your bra?”

“Why?” she asked.

“I want our skin to touch everywhere.”

“Our stomachs touch.”

“I want our chests to touch.”

“But … my boobs are small.”

“I love your body,” I said.

“I don’t want to have sex.”

“Me either.” Which was true. I swear. I wouldn’t even know what to do.

“Okay.” She reached behind her back to unlatch her bra.

“Can I do it?”

“Okay,” she said, so I reached behind except I couldn’t figure it out. “Want some help?” she said, and laughed. I loved when Carolina laughed, especially when we were, you know, making out and stuff. It made me think she enjoyed it as much as I did. She reached again behind and both our hands undid the bra together.

Then she slid it off and there she was, Carolina, and her naked boobs. They were small. She was right. They didn’t look anything like what I saw on the internet.

“You think they’re small, don’t you?” she said, then I looked up and saw her eyes, and the hurt, and I wanted to never see her hurt again.

“No, they’re sexy.”

“They’re not sexy. They’re small.”

“They’re perfect,” I said.

“You’re just saying that because you love me.”

“Can I touch them?”

“You’ve touched them before.”

“Yes, but never without your bra.”

“Yes, silly, you can touch them.”

So I did. And then I kissed her. And then I pulled her against my chest and I loved the feel of her cool nipples against mine. I wanted our bodies so close there was not even one millimeter of air between them. “This feels so good,” I said when we took a break from making out.

She said, “You’re right, it does.” And then Carolina said something so beautiful. “It feels like our bodies belong next to each other.”

Then we kissed with even more crazy passion than usual and eventually she touched me and I came. She put her bra back on, but we left our shirts off, heated up a frozen pizza, and went down into the basement. After eating, we put on the first season of Game of Thrones, which we were slowly getting through, and fell asleep on the couch. But only after I asked if she’d take her bra off again.

When we woke up, I was excited again. So I kissed her and she kissed me. And then she grabbed me, but then I said, “Can I touch you?”

“I don’t want to have sex,” Carolina said, which is what she always said. Frustrating.

“Carolina, I don’t either. But I read a lot of stuff on the internet and I talked to my mom and I don’t want you to always do this for me. I want to be able to make you feel good too.” This was true. But I also wanted to touch her because the thought made me excited. Was that bad?

“You do make me feel good.”

“I want to make you have an orgasm.”

“Oh gosh.”

“You don’t want to have one?”

“I … uh … don’t know if I can have one.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because the internet says most girls don’t have orgasms until they’re over twenty years old.”

I said, “That’s not what I read. I read girls have orgasms even before boys. Like as young as nine or ten sometimes.”

“Yes, but that’s doing it themselves. What I read is that most girls have a hard time having one with a boy until they are in college or later.”

“Have you done it yourself?” I asked, and I don’t know why, but waiting for her to answer made me feel nervous. Or maybe anxious. Or maybe even more excited than I already was. My breath got quick. And tight. My heart beat fast. And faster.

Then she said, “No … No. I just … like doing it with you.”

“But before you met me?”

“I never thought about it. Not really. Does that make me sound so immature? I’m sorry, Trevor.”

“Don’t be sorry! You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

Then we sat there and didn’t kiss and didn’t talk and I didn’t know what to say.

Carolina said, “Okay. You can touch me.”

“I don’t want to if you don’t want me to.”