BOYS AS NICE AS JOHN
BY M.R. JORDAN

John pushed me down onto the hotel bed, fingers working at the button on my shorts. Our eyes locked. I giggled and squirmed under his weight.

"Misty, you're hot." He breathed into my ear.

"Thanks," I blushed. "John, I don't want to."

He pulled back and gave me a wry, I know you don't mean it smile. It was only a smile but it was enough. It transported me back to the first time I met him. The shy hello in our hotel lobby which had turned into a conversation that had lasted for hours. He had been so easy to talk to, but I fell in love with his smile, the way the corners turned up just so. We ended up walking barefoot along the beach, hand in hand, my head on his shoulder.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" I asked.

"What? Of course, it was two days ago. I'm forgetful but not that forgetful." His smile brightened as he spoke, but there was an odd glint in his eyes. His fingers had popped button on my shorts and now dug at the zipper. I brushed his hand away.

"Let's talk."

"I'm all talked out," he said. "You know you want to."

"Do you remember what you said? How you were waiting for the right girl. Am I her?"

"What?"

"I know it's stupid, but I want to know."

"Come on, be a good girl," he said.

"I'm not a dog," I replied. "I don't want to, John. I mean it."

I wasn't sure if I meant it or not. A part of me wanted to, but there was something  in John, something that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe all I wanted was a hint of the guy who'd taken me dancing and played with my little sister on the beach. Maybe, I just needed to know that he would really stop.

The smile slid off his face. He grabbed me by the wrists-- both fit neatly into the giant mitt that was his left hand. His right went back to work.

I kicked. I was starting to get scared. "John?"

"We're leaving today," he said, stripping my shorts off. "This is my last chance."

His hand hurt my wrists. This can't be happening, I thought. I twisted. "Let me go. I don't want to."

He laughed. "Look at you, carrying on like you're some kind of virgin. I know you're not."

My face flushed. Even though we'd just met, I had trusted John. I had talked about some extremely personal moments with him. He knew about my first kiss and the three times  I'd gone all the way, twice during my senior year with my high school sweetheart and once that year in college. I’d wanted him to see me, really see me.

Shame washed over me- it was his accusing tone that did it. Riding high on the tide were my parents. I'd told him "the talk" when I was fourteen and the promise ring my father had given me, which at the time had made me feel so special. I told him, I still wore it because it wasn’t the kind of thing you could just take off without declaring to the world you’d cashed your v-card. It was a leash. Unfair not special and I'd been too young to know it. Suddenly, I was very afraid he'd pick up the phone and call my parents. I stopped squirming and laid stiff while John worked his hand down my bikini bottom. I felt washed out by guilt. This is my fault, I thought. I let other boys touch me there so he has a right. I can't really tell him no. His hand slid inside, fingers wiggling around. Tears pricked my eyes and I gulped for air.

"Relax and we'll have fun," he said.

"I can't breathe," I gasped.

"Don't worry," he said. "I won't hurt you."

I wanted to say, "but you are." But my mouth opened and all that escaped was a half-choked sob. I think you're raping me, but I don't know. I don't know. I began to thrash again. His grip on my wrists, which had relaxed a little, became a vice. My squirming excited him. I felt a new urgency in his body.

Suddenly, I understood what he'd meant about his last chance. Here, in Brazil, he could do this thing, get on the plane and still be, John, the nice guy. This is what he wanted, I thought. The realization triggered all my memories of our time together. Every laugh, every smile, and every touch had been leading up to this moment…

My mind skipped, transporting me back to before I’d left for Brazil. I sat safe on my bed with Skype up on the laptop. I was talking to my best friend Lisa.

"I can't believe you're going on vacation with your parents," she said.

"You'd turn down an all expense paid vacation?" I said and then in a voice that mimicked my mom. "You're growing up. Soon you'll have a career. This may be our last vacation as a whole family. And what about your sister? She misses you."

Lisa had rolled over on her bed laughing. When she was done, she said, "I wouldn't, but I'd leave mom and dad behind. What am I going to do without you?"

"Get a job," I said.

"Not funny," Lisa said.

And then my reprieve was gone. Whatever trick my brain had pulled stopped. There was nothing between me and John, now tearing my bikini bottoms off. I screamed and immediately bit down on my tongue. I didn't want somebody to come into the room and find us. I couldn't bear to be caught by strangers, or worse, my parents. I felt the promise ring, biting into the flesh between my fingers.

The resort phone on the nightstand rang. John froze and I stiffened, feeling as though I was about to be caught. Fresh, hot tears rolled down my cheeks. After the third ring, John decided it was safe to carry on. I looked into his eyes.

"You should answer that," I said. "It might be your mom about the van to the airport."

There was no calculation in my words. I didn't think about escape, we had gone past that now. I said it simply because it was true. We had come up to my room to say our last goodbyes while his family finished lunch with my family. I remembered the laughter and the friendly smiles, and my mother's toast, "What good fortune to meet another family with so much in common." This was followed by the clink of glasses and my father's slightly drunken,"here, here!"

It felt like a lifetime ago.

John released me and grabbed the phone. I sat up, rubbing my wrists. I could have run for the door, but I didn't. I've thought about this moment a lot because it was the moment. I can't explain why I didn't run or why I waited for John to get off the phone, which was maybe all of thirty seconds, and then asked, "So you have to go?"

"Yeah," he turned to me. "I'm sorry, but I've got to make this really fast."

He jumped on top of me, pinning me to the bed and tried to guide himself inside. He was too excited. His penis slid against my thigh, my pelvis, my knee, and once inside for a second. And then he was done. His cum was warm and sticky on my bare legs. He let go of me and zipped up his pants. His lips were pursed in a soft satisfied smile. Either he didn't notice he had missed his mark or didn't care. The phone rang again; he answered it.

"Okay, I'm on my way," he said and hung up. He paused, leaned over as though to kiss me on the head, but I flinched. He shrugged. "It's been fun."

When the door clicked shut, I slid off the bed, onto the floor, and pulled my knees up to my chest. My face was wet with tears. I wanted to scream, but swallowed the urge along with a giant gob of snot. It slid down my throat painfully slow. I could smell him on me and it made me sick to my stomach. The ring on my hand made me sicker.

I climbed to my feet, gathered my clothes, and went into the bathroom. The first thing I did was dump my shorts and bikini in the trash so my mother wouldn't find them. I tied the bag off so the maid wouldn't see my taint either. Then I stood over the trashcan, twisting the ring. I wanted to throw it away so badly. But eventually I’d have to see my parents. They’d check, a sly shifting of the eyes before they hugged me, the sight of it making everything in the world right and good. 

I climbed into the shower. I couldn’t take the ring off, but I could scrub his smell from my skin. I would have stayed under the hot water forever, but my cell phone jingled. I wrapped a towel around myself, exited the bathroom and picked up my phone.

"Hi mom," I said putting cheer in my voice. It sounded fake and my mother picked up on it.

"You're sad he left," she said. "I know you liked him, baby. Why don't you come down to the beach. It'll make you feel better."

"I'm really tired," I said. "I think I'll just call it an early night."

"Your sister misses you. I promised her once John was gone you'd make time for her."

"I know. I'll play with her tomorrow," I said.

"Our deal was, all expenses paid as long as you made time for your sister. She adores you."

"I said I'll do it tomorrow." I hung up on her.

I turned off the phone. There is no reasoning with the guilt or shame. Though it was only three O'clock, I crawled into bed and stayed there until breakfast. I would have stayed longer, but my mother got a second keycard from reception and gave it to my sister, Hanna. I often thought of her as The Accident because she was. When I was ten, my mother got pregnant and it wasn't planned. The Accident didn't even knock. She came racing in.

"Get up, get up!" Hanna launched herself onto the bed. "Get up, get up!"

"Go away."

"Mom says you have to play with me," Hanna said. I rolled over and looked into her eight-year-old face. "I made an itinerary with mom last night. First you have to eat breakfast with us. No boys."

I thought about what was waiting for her when she discovered she did like boys. This made me angry and sad. Hopeless. I just wanted to her to go away.

"I'll be down in a five minutes."

"No you won't," Hanna said, bouncing to punctuate her words. "That's why I'm staying until you get up."

"Fine!" I threw back the covers.

I dug out some clothes from my suitcase and went into the bathroom to put them on. I did so sullenly, radiating hate toward my sister. When I exited the bathroom, I slammed the door. A part of me willed her to notice something was wrong.

"Mom says you have to be nice to me," Hanna said, still bouncing on the bed. Her arms flew out and made big circles that stirred old memories of my childhood. Nothing specific, just a jumble of feelings and a deep longing to be innocent again. I peered up at my sister and she looked down at me, becoming very serious. "I just want to have fun with you."

"I know kid," I said.

"I don't know how you can get so upset about a boy?" Hanna jumped down off the bed. "Come on, I'm hungry. I bet you are too. You didn't eat dinner."

I thought about it and realized that I was hungry. I followed my sister downstairs to the dining hall. Hanna cavorted in circles, talking fast and factual. And loud.

"Cool it kid, you're annoying people," I said and thought, especially me.

I felt really self-conscious, that everybody knew about me and John. I twisted the ring on my finger.

"I got her Mom!" Hanna shouted and raced ahead to our parents. Our mother had her laptop on the table. As usual she was impervious. I seated myself and Hanna continued to hop around like a jumping bean.

"Sit down," our father rumbled from behind his newspaper. It had no effect.

"Please sit," I said and pulled out a chair for Hanna.

"Yes ma'am." The Accident smiled and plopped down.

"The Weems sent us an email. They got back to New York safely. They sent a picture," our mother said.

Dad lowered his paper. His eyes flicked to the ring on my hand and then to the computer screen, happy because all in the world was as it should be. 

"Let me see, let me see." Hanna hopped up again.

Our mother turned the computer around for all to see. I didn't want to look, but it was too late. There was John's face with that smile of his, the corners of his mouth turned up just so. He was swinging Hanna in the air while both sets of our parents looked on proudly. Even I looked on proudly. One of the things I had loved about John was how good he'd been with The Accident.

"Anne thinks we should plan another vacation together," our mother said and turned the computer back around.

 Suddenly, I saw the future all too clearly. There would be emails, occasional post cards, "Let's have lunch the next time you're in New York or Philadelphia," a New Year's party…

"Mom, I wasn't done looking," Hanna whined.

"Wouldn't that be fun," our father said. "Hanna, why don't you come with me over to the buffet? I think your mom and sister need to have a chat."

Did they know? My heart climbed up into my throat. How can they know? My eyes darted between my father and mother. My dad gave me a wink and smile, and grabbed Hanna by the hand. He paused and stroked my hair, kissing the top of  my head. I could tell he wanted to say something. But there had been an inexplicable distance between us ever since I got my period and breasts. 

"Is it about boys?" Hanna whispered up at him. "I don't like boys."

"You will someday." He assured my sister.

And then they were gone, leaving me alone with my mother. I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear, but settled for folding my legs into the chair. I tried to think of something I could say. My mother looked at me, but distractedly.

"Aunt Kate says hello," she said and without waiting for an answer added, "I don't like how melancholy you get over boys. It's not healthy. I know you really liked this one but you're nineteen. There will be lots of other boys and one day you'll find the right one. You can't get so attached to someone after just a few days. Love takes time."

"I know," I said. I wanted to tell her what happened, wanted to my mother to hold me while I cried. I wanted to erase the whole vacation. "It's not like that. Yesterday, when he came up to my room, he tried to, you know."

"That's why you don't take boys up to your room," she said. "Boys are horny and when you invite them into your bedroom, you give them ideas. I've told you that a thousand times. But as you are often so keen to remind me, you're an adult now. Just be glad you were with a boy as nice as John."

"You don't understand," I croaked. "He tried to… and I didn't want to. He pushed me down on the bed."

"Oh, I understand very well." My mother pushed the laptop to the side and locked eyes. "You invited him up. He thought you meant to, you know, and you're a good girl. You said no. He wasn't happy. You fought. I know you liked him a lot."

"I did." I mopped tears away with the back of my wrist. "I liked him a lot."

"I know sweetie," my mother said, taking my hand. "He told his mom about the argument. If it's any consolation, he wants you to know he is still willing to be friends if you are."

Time seemed to sit down on itself. I still breathed, my heart still beat and yet the world had stopped. When it started again, I was on my feet and my promise ring lay on the laptop's keyboard. Mother was looking at me both with an expression of incomprehension on her face. 

"Does it mean?"

I shrugged. "I'm tired of the way you and dad always check."

I was halfway across the dining room when my mother overcame her shock and called after me. "What about your breakfast? What about your sister?"

I exited the dining room and stood in the lobby, not sure what to do next. I thought about going back to my room, but no. It still smelled like John. Tonight, I'd probably demand a new room even though it would irritate my parents. I thought about calling Lisa but it came back to that moment. I didn't try to escape and I couldn't explain that, not to my mother, not to the police, not even to my best friend.

"Hi, you look like a girl who knows her way around," a voice said from behind me.

I turned around, half expecting John, but it wasn't his voice. And it wasn't his face. John had between twenty and this guy had to be at least twenty-five. He flashed a shy smile. My thoughts split, running on two tracks. I was nineteen and he had the kind of smile that makes me go weak in the knees. The rest of my thoughts jumped back to John and the hotel room. My pulse quickened and my mouth went dry.

As this new boy started to tell me his name, Hanna flashed across the lobby. She was crying because I wouldn't play with her. Now she had a target for her frustration. She ran and pushed the guy away hard.

"No more boys!"

He stepped back, surprised but still smiling with good humor. "This must be your little sister?"

Hanna's face darkened. She rushed at him again, jumping up and down on his foot to punctuate her words. "NO MORE BOYS RUINING EVERYTHING!"

I don't think I've ever loved my sister quite as much as right then. I knew that one day, even if I never told anyone else, I'd have to tell Hanna about John. I'd have to tell her about making promises you can't keep. I caught The Accident by the hand and pulled her away.

"You're sister is—"

"She's right. No more boys ruining everything," I said.

"What?" The guy said.

I ignored him, speaking to my sister. "Do you want to go make sandcastles?"

She looked up at me her eyes big in with surprise. "Really?"

"Really."

And so we built sandcastles by the sea just so the tide could tear them down and we could build them back up again.