Underneath the Sycamore Tree(67)

The room fills with our breathing and no longer smells of just trees and cinnamon. It smells like us. Of what we’ve just done.

Kaiden carefully pulls out, making me wince, before dropping to the side of me. His hand finds mine on the sheets and he wraps his fingers around me as we catch our breaths.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

I swallow. “Yeah.”

He sits up and studies me, seeing my damp cheeks from the glow of the streetlights coming in my window. His jaw ticks. “You should have told me to stop—”

“I didn’t want you to, Kaiden.”

We stare at each other for a moment longer before he gets out of bed. “I’m going to grab a washcloth to clean you up. Stay there.”

I take a deep breath and listen to the toilet flush and then the sink turn on. My heart is making weird sounds, racing but not, excited or anxious probably. I just had sex for the first time, it seems normal to react differently.

I move my legs and flinch over how sore they are from staying open. Sitting up, I inspect my slightly bloodied thighs, but besides a few droplets of on the gray sheets, there’s nothing else.

Kaiden walks in, noticing me looking at the aftermath.

“I thought it’d be worse,” I admit, heat creeping up the back of my neck. “You know, the blood and stuff.”

He has two washcloths. Using the first one to clean off my stomach from the first time he came, he sets it off to the side and grabs the other to carefully wipe my thighs off before dabbing between my legs.

I suck in a breath at how tender I am, which he apologizes for. “I’ve never done this before,” he admits, not meeting my eyes.

“Done what?”

Once he’s done washing me off, he uses a towel to dry me. “Taken someone’s virginity and cleaned them up after it’s all done.”

I’m not sure what to say, so I just reach out and brush his face. He finally glances up, his features softer than I’m used to. “Thank you. I-It hurt but I’m glad we did that.”

He kisses me. “You should try peeing. Hear that’s important so girls don’t get UTI’s or whatever.”

Giggling, I kiss him back and then he helps me out of bed. Passing me my pants and shirt back, I get dressed and head to the bathroom. Pushing past the sting, I do my business and wash up before inspecting myself in the mirror.

I’m flushed and my hair is a mess, but the smile on my face is all I can really see. Kaiden did that. He changed the flattened or downtrodden lips I’m so well acquainted with.

When I go back in the room, Kaiden is dressed and on his usual side of the bed. “You know,” he says quietly, opening his arm for me to curl up next to him, “I think it’s a good thing your mom is coming here.”

I choke. “You want to talk about her?”

He chuckles. “I just think it means she’s finally willing to put in an effort.”

I’m quiet as I consider his words.

He’s right.

Maybe things are finally changing.





Chapter Thirty-Four





Before the sun fully rises, nausea wakes me up with its brutal clutches on my stomach. Back and hips aching as I slide out of bed, I clutch my midsection and limp to the bathroom. I barely make it in time before I’m emptying little to nothing into the toilet bowl, stomach acid burning my throat and causing me to gag worse from the cold floor.

Kaiden must have slipped out before I woke up, because there’s no doubt he would have come in here demanding what’s wrong. When I feel a little better, I hold a palm against my back, wash up, brush my teeth, and head back to the bedroom.

The sheets and comforter are still ruffled from last night’s escapades, which causes me to smile despite the pulsing sensation in my back. It doesn’t surprise me that I tweaked it given what we’d done, so I grab some Motrin from my nightstand and swallow a couple of pills before pulling the blankets over me again.

I ball up and hug the pillow Kaiden uses close to me, taking in his usual scent until sleep calls for me again.

Thankfully, the nausea let’s me be.





Chapter Thirty-Five





Christmas break finally rolls around and I’m glad to be out of school. Despite my new medicine working to keep headaches away, the winter flurries and stress of finals got the better of me. Thankfully, I haven’t missed anymore school, but my energy is depleted by the time I get home in the afternoon.

Mr. Nichols announced that Book Club wouldn’t continue when school started again in January. There wasn’t enough interest and the school felt it wouldn’t be appropriate if it were just him with two young girls. I’m not sure what they’re so worried about. Nichols has never been inappropriate with any of his students, even when the female students showed him no mercy. Maybe the school is worried for his safety.

Dad and Cam tell me that there may be a reading club I could join at the city’s library, but I know in my gut that it’s better if I just keep reading in the confines of my room. At least then I won’t have to argue about an author’s point or the reason why books will always be better than the real world.

Fiction has a way of revealing the types of truths that reality obscures. There’s nothing that books can’t talk about, regardless of how readers interpret them. We can accept or deny what we want, but the facts are still immortalized on paper.