The fall

Thump. Thump.

Her heartbeat deafened her to the scraping of the chair he pulled out to sit beside her. She met his eyes and her cheeks betrayed her in a flush of heat as she wished, once more, that her fair complexion did not plaster every emotion across her face. They laughed and fell into the comfortable routine they’d had since childhood, dancing around the fact that his every word made her heart flutter as if it might fly out of her chest. She passed him a pen, knowing he would have forgot one, and settled into the easy silence they had cultivated over the years. She glanced at the clock, her stomach twisting as she noticed how little time was left. The hour she spent beside him was already slipping away. She didn’t know what this feeling was, the one she got when she sat next to him. Only that she wanted to feel it again.

The bell rang, dragging her out of the quiet world she had built around them. And the classroom returned in a rush of noise and movement, the only thing grounding her being the presence of the boy calmly packing his bag beside her. She hurried to do the same, tucking away her untouched notebook, hiding the back cover scribbled with their initials, and smiled goodbye as she slipped into the hallway. She found her friends and lunged into their arms as if they had been apart for years, even though they’d walked to school hand in hand that morning. She laughed as they caught her up on the very few hours they’d spent apart and pretended her breath didn’t hitch when they passed him in the hallway.

“Do you think he’s waiting for you to do something?” A laugh escaped her, thin and unfamiliar, and a sudden heaviness descended on her before she covered her face in her hands and groaned. “Oh, come on, don’t be shy. We all know you like him,” her friends giggled. “It’s about time,” her other friend chimed in, voice light but sharp. “We’re in high school, Eve. You can’t be a virgin forever.”

Thump. Thump. Her chest tightened as she glanced back toward him, heart hammering in her ears. “It’s like your eyes open for the first time -” Her friends’ voices cut through the pounding in her head, calm, certain. “You’ll see things differently once you’ve… tried. Once you’ve felt it. You’ll understand.” She froze, fingers curling against her bag strap, tightening, stomach twisting. A heat she didn’t know how to name rose in her, and for a moment, she could barely breathe. An awkward smile crept upon her flushed face, one her friend quickly returned, somewhat sympathetically, before they moved on to talking about something else.

Suddenly, they seemed to tower above her. Their long strides carried them ahead as she shuffled hurriedly to keep up, voices rising and falling like tides she couldn’t match, her weak giggles paling in comparison to their vibrant laughs. She straightened her shoulders, held her head high, and tried desperately to fit into the mold it seemed her friends were made from.

That night she dreamed. She saw herself sitting on her mother’s vanity, lipstick smeared all over her face, wishing she were the woman standing behind her in the mirror. Her mother carried the same ease and certainty she’d seen in her friends, emboldened by the same red lipstick that infantilized her. Her friends’ words followed her, echoing in her head, reminding her she was not yet a woman- only a girl.

Thump. Thump.

Her heartbeat deafened her to the scraping of the chair he pulled out to sit beside her. She met his eyes - eyes that widened at the deep red that stained her swollen lips. Her cheeks betrayed her once more yet this time a different heat rose through her. For the first time, her insides twisted not at his smile, but at the lips that covered it, wondering what they would feel like on hers, and her teeth instinctively bit the left corner of her bottom lip. The softness in his eyes was replaced with a darkness; their usual easy silence had shifted into uncomfortable intensity. She glared at the clock, willing it to tick as anticipation bubbled through her, her bare legs crossed under the desk, one foot flicking as she clicked her pen incessantly, impatiently. The bell rang, her friends’ voices hissed through her thoughts, and she fed him the same venom with her eyes, “My parents won’t be home till late.” A sudden breath caught in him, eyes unwavering, then he clenched his jaw and stoop. They walked toward her house, his knuckles whitening around the strap of his bag, drawn toward their first taste of temptation, her innocence faltering with every step, their desire, though at the time they couldn’t quite name it, was growing deeper.

Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realised they were naked. She tugged at the duvet, covering herself, before getting up to get dressed. Yet with every layer of clothing that covered her she still felt completely bare, unable to regain whatever it was she lost when she took them off. The man left, promptly, coldly, and she ran into the bathroom. Gripping the sink the cold water struck her face, and she rubbed at her painted lips, smearing the red all over her face, her hands. Not the aggression of her frantic hands, nor the soap or her salty tears, could remove the intense stain that blemished her pale skin, her eyes reddening to match. Her heart sank, she followed, settling on the cold tile floor, forehead resting on her knees. Holding her breath to escape the reek of his cologne. A pained sob escaped her chest before she slapped her shaking hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying that when she opened them again the colours would be as plain as they were yesterday, overwhelmed by the variety of shades now burdening her vision.

Thump thump.

Her heartbeat deafened her to the sounds of the classroom once more, but the scrape of the chair never came. And when Adam walked in and pulled out a chair two rows behind, she realised nothing would ever be the same.