Puddle Jumping(22)

My heart was his forever when he spoke those words. How could it not be?

That night we kissed and more. We went as far as we could go without things getting out of hand, and while I wanted to, I knew it wasn’t time. There were a lot of things I didn’t know about being with a boy. Or being with Colton. It was a learning experience and I was okay with figuring it out and waiting.

After a while, we slowed down and I had to push away, wanting air and needing space so I could collect myself.

“I have to go before your parents get up so we don’t get in trouble . . . for this . . .”

“I understand.”

He might have, but my heart didn’t. It wanted to stay with him.

“I’ll see you later,” I said. And then, before I could stop myself, I leaned over and gave him one more kiss. “Email me when you get up. We can talk. Like you do with Talia.”

He smiled against my cheek and kissed me again. “Talking with you would be much more enjoyable than talking with Talia, Lilly.” His eyes scanned the floor by my feet. “She’s paint by number; you’re a watercolor.”

Things like that, moments like those, how do you explain to other people that no one else in the world can you make you feel this way?





There’s a lot to be said about dating Colton. He’s smart and interesting and full of important facts and information. He’s focused and reliable. He listens. I learn when I’m with him. He sees things around us so differently and he makes me think.

I’ve always heard your best match in life is the person who is the opposite of you that makes a complete whole. If that’s the case, then we were made for each other. My need to be spontaneous and scratch the itch to do dangerous things outweighed a lot of my ability to make responsible decisions.

His mom said she wanted him to have an authentic teenage experience – though I doubt she wanted things to progress in an unhealthy way. I wasn’t going to take him to concerts all night and not bring him home until the sun came up. I don’t drink. I’m not a rule-breaker in the true sense. But being with someone who doesn’t vocalize his affections made it that more important to express ourselves in other ways. I won’t go into it, but if I’ve learned one thing over this year, it’s that some things between a boy and a girl are very, very normal.

I wasn’t going to let some doctor’s opinion of my boyfriend stop me from having the kind of relationship we both deserved. It would be a learning experience and there are things that are slightly different in approach and practice. But I’m always up for a challenge. Especially when it’s with him. Or for him. Because it always comes back to him.

* * *

As the weather turned colder, I couldn’t go and see him at night. I originally didn’t have a hard time getting up the lattice and into the window, but once it started to ice and snow and freeze over, I couldn’t justify breaking my neck to get alone time with my boyfriend. Stupid winter.

Our parents began to spend more time together and eventually our mothers were inseparable. Their blooming friendship meant that I got to see my boyfriend more than I would have otherwise. And no one ever said anything when we would claim to be going upstairs to watch a movie or whatever excuse we made at the time to get away from the boredom that parents bring. Especially when all we wanted to do was go anywhere else and suck face for a few hours.

Which we totally did.

Repeatedly.

When winter break came, my parents decided they were going to leave town to go see my grandparents. But I really didn’t want to go. The thought of being away from my boyfriend during our first Christmas made me anxious and it did the same for him. It was decided I could stay at his house over the holiday. I thought the adults around us were oblivious to the goings on behind closed doors and we had been stealthy enough to pull the wool over their eyes, but the night I brought all of my stuff over to the Neely’s place, I found out I was sorely mistaken.

Sheila and Rick made sure I had everything I needed in the guest room and then Rick had kind of given his wife this . . . look . . . and I got a feeling in my stomach like I was in trouble or that perhaps they knew something I didn’t.

It’s at times like those that your mind quickly goes through worst-case scenarios back to back in your brain. I thought maybe Colton wanted to break up with me, but couldn’t say it. Or maybe he had a terminal illness and I would have to marry him like that stupid book they made into a movie with Mandy Moore in it.

I mean, I would definitely marry him at seventeen, if that were the case.

Instead, it was much worse than a terminal illness.

Much, much worse.

Sheila Neely wanted to talk about sex.

The majority of the conversation was lost due to the sound of rushing blood in my ears and humiliation in my brain. I can’t remember word for word what was said, but they knew we’d been fooling around. She never came out and said she had heard us but she mentioned something about an increase in dirty laundry and a towel or something. I’m not a hundred percent sure. It was mortifying, though.

I assured her I was a virgin. That Colton was a virgin. And she laughed and said she knew that much, but she wanted to make sure I was okay.

And that made me fall in love with her at the same time I wanted to fall into a hole and disappear forever.

She wanted nothing more than for her son to have as many predictable teenage experiences as possible. Even if it meant he was groping his girlfriend in her house. I probably should have thanked her or something but my inability to form words was back in full force, and by the time she left the room, I curled up on the guest bed and went fetal, wondering if I could pretend to be in a coma for three months until spring finally came.