“It’s okay, you know. I like you, too. Always have.”
“You…you do?”
He smiled crookedly. And the next thing she knew he was turning her toward him, bending close, and kissing her. His kiss was wet and insistent; his tongue sloppy when he began sliding it in and out of her mouth. Was this the way it was supposed to be? He tasted like whatever sort of liquor he’d been drinking. Smelled like it, too. And within a moment, his hand was under her sweater, inside her bra, closing over her breast.
She pushed him away. “Holden…stop.”
Sitting up, blinking down at her, he stared for a long time. Then he shook his head. “Sorry. I…don’t know what I was thinking. You’re not that kind of girl.” He pressed a hand to his forehead as if trying to squeeze some sense into it. “I know better than to act like that with you.”
It was, she realized, her moment of truth. One of the most defining moments of her life. She was seventeen years old, and a virgin. And here was her chance to change that…with the only boy she would ever want in that way. The one chance she’d dreamed about, waited for. She would be Holden Fortune’s girl. He’d drive her to school, walk her to classes, sit with her at lunch, take her to dances…maybe even give her his class ring, something he hadn’t done with any of his other girlfriends.
She would never treat him the way they had. Never.
“Holden,” she said.
He lifted his head, bleary-eyed and unfocused.
“I could be that kind of girl…for you.”
His smile was slow and slightly crooked. “No, you couldn’t…”
She leaned up and pressed her lips to his again. This time when he put his tongue in her mouth, she touched it with hers. And when his hand slipped under her sweater she pressed herself against its touch.
Lifting his head away, his voice gruff, he whispered, “Let’s…let’s go up to my room.” He held out a hand. She got up, helped him to his feet, and then, with effort, up the stairs.
He started kissing her again before they even stumbled through his bedroom door. She fell backward, Holden still wrapped around her, and landed on the bed. It was fast, brief, messy, and not at all what she had expected. All so clinical. He didn’t hug her or hold her, caress her or kiss her. He shoved her panties down, and pushed up her skirt. Didn’t even take off his jeans. Just lowered them and—did it. It hurt at first, and then the pain eased, and it was all over.
But…it couldn’t be. Surely there was more to sex than…than that.
Holden lay on top of her, very still, breathing deeply and steadily. Lucinda shook him. “Holden?” He didn’t respond and tears welled up in her eyes. “Holden, please…”
He grumbled and rolled off her. A glance at his face made her realize that he was out cold, and no amount of shaking or pleading would wake him up. She dragged the stained sheet out from under him, wrapped herself in it, snatched up her clothes and ran into the bathroom attached to his bedroom, slamming the door behind her. It had been awful. Embarrassing, humiliating, and awful.
She cried for a few minutes. Then told herself to stop it. She’d wanted this. And…and it was worth it. Maybe. After all, being Holden Fortune’s girlfriend was all she’d dreamed about for a long time now. Well, almost all. She dreamed about being a doctor, too, ever since her mom died five years ago. Now, one of those dreams…had come true. Taking a breath, sighing deeply, she dried her tears, and turned on the water. By the time she got herself cleaned up and dressed, she was feeling a little bit better about what had happened between her and Holden tonight. There had been no tenderness…but that was only because he’d been drinking. Tomorrow, everything would be different. Tomorrow…
She crept back into the bedroom and bent over him to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I love you, Holden Fortune,” she whispered. “I’ll love you forever.” Then she hurried through the huge house, back to the front door, all without meeting anyone, and drove home floating on a cloud. So what if it was a rather dark, ominous-looking cloud? It would look brighter tomorrow.
Holden didn’t call in the morning to offer her a ride to school. She’d expected him to, but she battled the disappointment by telling herself he might be sick from all that liquor and was maybe just sleeping it off.
But when she got off the bus at school, she looked up to see Holden’s shiny red Corvette pulling in. Both doors opened at once. Holden hopped out of one door, smiling. Tiffany Lambert came out the other door. They met in the front, and Holden put his arm around her.
Lucinda just stood there on the sidewalk, staring until there was too much moisture in her eyes to see through as the two of them walked toward her, arm in arm. She couldn’t move. The pain in her chest was too big, choking her. She could barely even breathe.
“Hey, Lucy,” Holden said.
Lucinda blinked the stinging tears from her eyes. She wanted to run. But instead she just stood there and said, “Hi.”
“Thanks for the ride home last night. You really pulled my fat out of the fire.”
“No problem,” she managed to choke out.
“I hope I wasn’t an idiot.”
She only frowned at him, not sure what to say, how to act.
“I mean, I was pretty wasted. I don’t remember a damn thing after getting into the car.”
She blinked, and rasped, “You…you don’t?”
“Total blackout,” he said. “Anyway, thanks. If you ever need a favor, you know who to ask, okay?”
She lowered her head as fresh tears came flooding from nowhere. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Come on, Holden. You promised me a doughnut in the cafeteria before homeroom,” Tiffany teased in that voice of hers that could make even the most mundane statement sound like a come-on. And then the two walked away.
Just walked away.
Lucinda ran for the nearest girls’ room, where she threw up. Then she just sank down onto the floor, pulled her knees to her chest, and cried.
She was still there when the school nurse came looking an hour later. She spent the rest of that day at home in bed, wondering if she would ever recover from the mess Holden Fortune had made of her heart.
It was several weeks later when she realized the damage Holden had done had not been to her heart alone. When she collapsed in agonizing pain and was rushed to the hospital, bleeding uncontrollably. When she awoke from emergency surgery, sore and groggy and confused. When the doctor told her the pregnancy had been ectopic—that the fetus had been growing in her fallopian tube, and the tube had ruptured. That one of her ovaries had had to be removed to save her life. That her chances of conceiving a child in the future were cut in half.
She lay there in the hospital bed, in pain, afraid, and for the most part, alone. Oh, her father was there, but he’d been distant since her mother had died. He asked no questions, demanded no explanations. Just stayed by her side, looking heartbroken.
And all the while, Lucinda thought, Holden was out there somewhere, driving
