Love's Forbidden Flower (13 page)

Gently he slides two fingers into me, locating the precise spot I guided him to yesterday; the spot that makes me tense at the beautifully wicked sensations he sends spiraling through my body. Placing his palm in the perfect position to extract divine sensations, he lightly pulsates while his fingers caress my inner being. A mad urgency flows through me while his tenderness conveys that his truest of desire is only to cherish me. As we revel in my tremors, he enwraps me as if to protect my fragile heart from my body's violence.

The loss of my innocence is veiled in beauty, without fear of dark consequences. As we coil peacefully I feel as if I'm lying on rose petals. Christopher spends the rest of the day in worship; telling me how much he loves me, how he never wants the day to end—how he doesn't need anything in the world but me.

In a week I've gone from loving him to being in love with him, and now I'm in awe of how captivating and unselfish he genuinely is. All of my apprehensions have dissipated beyond doubt, and I can't possibly imagine lying here with anyone else.

“Noooo-hohoho. Make it go away!”

The contempt isn’t for the alarm, but for the day it represents. It's the first day of my senior year, and I'd rather move to Siberia than face the next nine months of torture.

In the kitchen, my perky mom is of little help defusing the misery. “It's going to be better this year, Lily! All the good stuff happens, and you have a fantastic boyfriend to share it with. You should be excited. Is Christopher excited about starting his senior year here in America?”

“Not really. We both wish we could ignore that ugly building and keep our lives the way they've been for the last month and a half.”

“Don’t you mean like how they have been for the last week?” Mom asks as she sips her tea, proud of her coyness.

The coffee pot beckons as Mom resumes her quest for information. I’ll need all the help I can get as we venture down the road of lectureville, and caffeine is the closest drug available.

“I stopped by the bakery last Thursday. Jennifer said you had the week off and was probably with some guy from New Zealand. I assumed she meant Christopher. She's not very bright, is she? Should she really be handling people’s food?”

“I didn’t say anything because I really wanted to spend quality time with Christopher. Josette surprised me with a paid vacation, and it came just as he and I decided that we really needed to get to know each other better before things went too far.”

“That makes a lot of sense. Actually, I'm really glad that you two had time together. I’ve been concerned that you have missed out on too much with how hard you've been working. I was just surprised that you were still getting up so early when you didn’t need to. You seemed well rested though and very,
very
happy. Are you very happy?”

Mom’s transparency makes me embarrassed for her.
“Mom, just ask the real questions.”

“Will you tell me the truth, or are you going to say what you want your mother to hear?”

“The truth, but only if you promise not to judge Christopher or me. I think you can figure it all out anyway, so let’s get it over with.”

My attempt at relaxation as I plop down at the kitchen table caves to tension. “Wait. Where’s Dad? I don’t want him to walk in on this conversation. He would totally freak out, especially since he’s not too crazy about Christopher in the first place.”

“Edward left for work early. It is not that he doesn’t like Christopher, it's more that Christopher is not the kind of man he wants to see you with permanently. You know how your father is, and Christopher’s a little...”

“Scrawny? Not a jock? Comfortable with himself? Human?”

“All of those. Okay, questions. How about I ask them all at once, and then you answer the way you want. I will accept any blanks as things you don’t want to talk about. Fair enough?”

“Very.” Is Mom crocked?

“You left early every day last week. Where did you go? Just how much time did you spend with Christopher? Do you love him? Does he love you? Is he treating you right? Are you sure you know what right is? And do I need to get you on birth control?”

This conversation is of little surprise. There is also no shock that she waited until now to have it. Ever since things have gotten stressful with Dad, she's been big on me being independent. Apparently I'm not the only one who fears I'll turn out subservient like she did.

She gave me the chance to have my freedom so she deserves honesty in return. Also, after months of stress from hiding my emotions, I'm ready to spit out some truth.

“I went to Christopher’s every morning, and we spent the day together doing whatever it was we felt like doing. We had a very long talk the week before about our relationship. At the time we weren’t sure of our feelings, but by the end of the week we both knew that we're in love. He's very respectful to me, which is why we had such a big conversation the week before, and why we spent so much time getting to know each other before we—before we took things further. And yes, we were safe, but birth control is probably a good idea.”

Mom sits motionless—her broad eyes locked on her cup while she releases a gratified sigh.

“Okay, Mom. I know you said you'd now mind your own business, but I'm giving you another shot. Anything else?”

Mom puts her hand on my arm and smiles at me through dampening eyes. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me these things. I really appreciate your honesty right now.”

“Mom, you know that I've never really lied to you, right? There have been times when I was uncomfortable with your questions and glossed over the answers or tweaked them to sound less upsetting, but I've never given you a solid lie.”

“I'm very glad to hear that. So, I get more questions?” Mom asks while taking another sip of tea.

“Sure, Mom.” Dear Lord, please don’t let me regret this!

“How about a comment instead? You don’t get to ask questions. Just take it at face value. Men are very odd creatures. I know that women are complex, but men just don’t make any sense. Women can be manipulative, but men can be selfish and deceiving. I’m not saying there aren't men who can be trusted, but you can never really be sure who they are, even when you think you know them. I’m glad Christopher is good to you, but make sure you don’t get so wrapped up in who is now that you will be forgiving if he changes.”

Pondering all that Mom's words could represent with respect to the fact that she's been miserable and fighting with Dad for months, the possibilities make my skin feel violated. “Mom, is there something that you would like to be honest with me about?’

“Remember, we had a deal. No questions.”

“I'm breaking it. Are you all right? I'll respect your privacy, but I need to know if you're okay.”

“I'm fine, dear. It's just that sometimes people are not at all what they seem once you start really digging. I don't want you to ever be caught off guard like I was.” Mom stands and puts her cup in the sink as she vacantly stares out the kitchen window. “Now go pick up that adorable boyfriend of yours. You don’t want to make him late on his first day.”

This year, juvenility has reached a new dimension, and it's all Christopher's fault. Well, not his really. It’s more like God's for making him the endearing creature he is. How had it never occurred to me that if I found Christopher to be adorable, then the rest of the female population would too? Of course they would. Those blue eyes and crazy accent are to die for!

“Again? It’s been over a month. Are they never going to get the hint that he’s in love with you?” Sally exasperatedly queries as we approach Christopher’s locker while staring at the all too common sight of his female entourage. Christopher keeps fumbling with his books, refusing to face the flock. No cute smile. No charming wit. Nothing that at all implies he's enjoying this display of attention.

“It doesn’t seem likely. This same thing has happened every day for weeks. You know, watching him squirm never gets old,” I half-seriously say with a wicked grin.

“He’s lucky you're so good-natured about it.”

“That's because I'm so happy. With him, I don’t have a care in the world.”

“You’re so incredibly lucky. Is he good in bed?” Sally asks with a little beam.

I buoyantly look at my friend, “How long have you been dying to ask me that?”

“How long have you been sleeping with him?”

“Touché.” My gaze turns to the awkwardness unfolding in front of me. “He’s amazing. In
everything
he does.”

“Really? ‘Cause it doesn’t seem like it would be that way.”

“I know, huh?”

In his attempt to avert the flock, Christopher clumsily, and rather comically, sends his books flying to the ground. At the sound of my chuckle, his eyes turn heavenward. Nearly tripping over the disastrous pile of books, he dashes to me. “Lilyanna! For once the Queen has saved me! How are you, luv?” With pleading eyes that scream for rescue he boldly kisses me, grabs my hand, and drags me to his flock before scrambling to retrieve his books. “I believe these are friends of yours. They've been ever so nice in offering to show me around. Don’t we have plans?”

“Yes. Remember you promised we would have a quiet lunch together under that big tree near the gym. I brought you Summer Pudding,” I say singingly while holding up a brown paper bag.

“No wonder why I love you so much!” He crams his books into his locker and grabs me by the hand. “Well, thank you kindly ladies, but I must be moving on. Cheerio.” As quickly as his dash began he abruptly stops, spins around, and gives a sheepish wave to Sally before shutting his locker. Like a shot we're off again.

“Thank you, luv. I believe that is what you Yanks call ‘an amazing save.’ I just wish there was really Summer Pudding in that bag. You toy with me cruelly.”

“Who’s toying?”

We don't get far before two of Northland High’s lamest jocks, who are tired of their girlfriends always gushing over Christopher's adorable accent, start laying into him.

“Come on, Lilyanna. Time to go.” Christopher tries to nobly walk away, but one overstuffed dimwit, reeking of alcohol, blocks him. Sally valiantly runs up to assist, as if she can possibly help. These guys are big and can easily take us all down. Now the jerk starts in on me. Apparently I'm the real target.

“Go ahead and run off with your little slut. My brother can tell you all kinds of stories about her.”

My legs lock in realization of who he is. It's Al’s little brother, Bob. I was really hoping that night was gone forever, and don’t want to admit even a second of it to Christopher.

Bob continues his focus on me, clearly feeling he has the upper hand. “What're ya gonna do now that you don’t have your dick of a brother to protect you anymore?”

His words push me to my limit, igniting a fire at the very mention of Donovan. How dare this creep bring up Donovan? How dare he harass Christopher? Worst of all, how dare he mention anything that could make me any less in Christopher’s eyes? No one is allowed to ruin my happiness and certainly not at Christopher's expense! I have far, far too much pent up frustration to take it. This jerk has no idea what he’s up against.

Eyeing Bob while inching in closer, my mandate spits out venomously. “Are you so insecure that you have to drink and push people around? We both know the real reason for this little visit is retaliation on your brother’s behalf. You obviously know who my brother is, but have you forgotten how he almost ripped your friend’s heart out and fed it to him? Have I told you I have my brother’s temper? If only a fragment of your feeble brain functions you will stay away from Christopher and never, ever speak of Donovan again!”

“Lilyanna dear, I really think we should leave.” Christopher and Sally both pull at me, but I’m not budging. This guy has got me where it hurts and he's not going to win, even if I wind up in the emergency room.

Bob dismissively laughs, “Oh, you have your brother’s temper all right. But what’cha gonna to do with it, slap me to death?”

Breaking loose from Sally and Christopher’s grips, I defiantly draw myself closer to the jerk's face. I know his weak spot. It's the same as everyone else who knew Donovan the second half of his senior year. “Laugh now, creep. My brother won’t be gone forever. You’ve seen how protective Donovan is of me. Just imagine how he's going to react when I tell him about this little interlude?”

Bob turns mute and a little green around the edges remembering Donovan’s vicious streak. My eyes narrow. With a low hiss, I complete my mission. “Everyone knows how close we are. He’s only a phone call away. I’m sure he has nothing better to do this weekend than defend his little sister. He'd be here in a heartbeat.”

Victory is mine as I turn to Sally and Christopher who have lost all of the color from their faces. “Now we can go.”

During the silent drive home Christopher recurrently gives me sideways glances, his mouth opening and then closing. Is his pain because I'm hurting? Or is it because I've hurt him?

Once in Christopher’s driveway I sit with the engine running and the parking brake on, needing to stay but fearing he wants me to go. Finally he reaches over, turns off the engine, and proceeds to get out of the car. “Come on. Let’s get you some tea.” Coming around to the driver’s side he opens my door. “Come on, Lilyanna. I think you need me now.”

“Really? It seems I don’t need anyone.”

“Quite the contrary.” He grabs my arm and gently tugs. I fall into his arms with tears streaming impatiently down my face. “Come on, luv. Let’s go inside.”

Sitting me on the sofa, he sweetly kisses my forehead before leaving to put on the kettle. His frustration chimes through me as a ruckus comes from the kitchen, like a disastrous mess is being cleared. I've only met Christopher’s mother a few times but it's obvious she's still having a rough go of it. Poor Christopher never says much but seems to have his hands full already, and now he has to care for me too. Life is certainly not fair to this sweet, displaced man who constantly strives to make himself, and others, happy.