She was 15, and boy crazy. She had a grown woman's body and a child like mind that willed her to do adult like things. It was an unfortunate combination and nothing good would come of it.
He was 18 and chiseled. He often wore his shirt off on the exceptionally hot summer days. He wasn't gorgeous, but he was mature and she took notice. She spent most of her time peering curiously at him while he was bent over the open hood of a car.
He may have noticed her inquisitive gaze, but he never suggested it. He continued his work, as if no one were watching. Time pressed on and what seemed like months later was merely weeks. Her mother asked her to knock on his door and request his services. She made sure she looked just right. She wanted him to notice her. She walked over and knocked on the door. He came outside with his shirt off again. She noticed every muscle on his body. She felt a familiar jitter in the pit of her stomach. He was young, but he was a man. He didn't have the lean adolescent body she had seen on the boys in her school. He was different. He was a man. She tried not to stare, but he'd already noticed. He smiled at her, and she felt validated. She was always seeking validation. The conversation was brief. She delivered her message and walked away. She mused over her interest. He was 18, and her mother informed her that he was dating an older woman. He wasn't going to engage her. She was 15. She was a kid compared to him. She didn't have the experience that he must have had. She dismissed her interest and allowed logic to lead her back to reality.
One day, while taking a walk to the bodega, she felt someone watching her. She turned, and it was him. She made sure she walked a little taller, a little sexier...or as sexy as 15 knew how. If he was watching, she would be sure to give a great performance for her audience.
On her way back a car rolled alongside her slowly as she was turning into her basement apartment entrance. It was him.
"I'm about to make a run to my friends house. Where are you going?" He asked.
"Home." She said evenly in an attempt to veil her enthusiasm. " I just left the corner store."
"You want to ride with me?" He smiled.
More validation. More interest. "Sure" she said nonchalantly. She had his interest. She knew it, and she planned to keep it. They rode together to his friends house where he jumped out of the car to chat with his friend while she wanted in the passenger seat, looking on at their animated conversation.
His friend gestured toward the car and he looked at her briefly, smiling and returned to his conversation. She knew they discussed her, but she didn't care much at all. As they drove back home, she flirted while he engaged her. She wanted his attention, and she was getting it.
More time passed, and he was now working on her mother's car. He would pick her mother up from work while he repaired the vehicle because the repair work was taking a bit longer than initially anticipated. He was 18 and chiseled. He often wore his shirt off on the exceptionally hot summer days. He wasn't gorgeous, but he was mature and she took notice. She spent most of her time peering curiously at him while he was bent over the open hood of a car.
He may have noticed her inquisitive gaze, but he never suggested it. He continued his work, as if no one were watching. Time pressed on and what seemed like months later was merely weeks. Her mother asked her to knock on his door and request his services. She made sure she looked just right. She wanted him to notice her. She walked over and knocked on the door. He came outside with his shirt off again. She noticed every muscle on his body. She felt a familiar jitter in the pit of her stomach. He was young, but he was a man. He didn't have the lean adolescent body she had seen on the boys in her school. He was different. He was a man. She tried not to stare, but he'd already noticed. He smiled at her, and she felt validated. She was always seeking validation. The conversation was brief. She delivered her message and walked away. She mused over her interest. He was 18, and her mother informed her that he was dating an older woman. He wasn't going to engage her. She was 15. She was a kid compared to him. She didn't have the experience that he must have had. She dismissed her interest and allowed logic to lead her back to reality.
One day, while taking a walk to the bodega, she felt someone watching her. She turned, and it was him. She made sure she walked a little taller, a little sexier...or as sexy as 15 knew how. If he was watching, she would be sure to give a great performance for her audience.
On her way back a car rolled alongside her slowly as she was turning into her basement apartment entrance. It was him.
"I'm about to make a run to my friends house. Where are you going?" He asked.
"Home." She said evenly in an attempt to veil her enthusiasm. " I just left the corner store."
"You want to ride with me?" He smiled.
More validation. More interest. "Sure" she said nonchalantly. She had his interest. She knew it, and she planned to keep it. They rode together to his friends house where he jumped out of the car to chat with his friend while she wanted in the passenger seat, looking on at their animated conversation.
His friend gestured toward the car and he looked at her briefly, smiling and returned to his conversation. She knew they discussed her, but she didn't care much at all. As they drove back home, she flirted while he engaged her. She wanted his attention, and she was getting it.
She dismissed her crush. Too much time had passed and she had the attention span of most teens her age. At that age a 2 month relationship was a short marriage. She didn't think much of him if at all, and her interest faded along with the warm summer weather.
She was watching a movie as she often did during the evenings. Then came the knock. She looked and saw it was him. She felt nothing. She no longer cared if she saw him or not. He came in and asked if she had any tools. He needed them for the car. She handed him a bag of tools her mother kept in the closet and waited for him to initiate his departure.
He didn't.
"What are you watching?" He asked as he sat beside her.
"Juice" she said. The jitters came back in her stomach.
Small talk.
Then, he kissed her. She didn't mind it. He liked her, and she liked that he liked her.
Then he wanted more.
She didn't.
She said "no."
He continued.
When she tried to kick him where he was most vulnerable, he blocked her knee and then straddled them by kneeling on her legs. She couldn't manage to lift her legs in defense with his weight on them. That was when she knew he was going to take what he wanted.
Still, fought... because that was her nature. She fought until she was out of breath. Then, she fought with her mind. "Don't you have to go pick up my mom?" she said.
"Oh yeah." He said casually
Then, he left.
She was stripped topless. She had bruises. She had his attention, but the cost was more than she cared to pay.
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