After Forever Ends - Ramone Melodie. Страница 18

“Right. But I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to, either. I do. I’m just scared. Plus, we don’t have any protection or anything.”

“Oh, we do. It’s in Alex’s room. But I didn’t get any because I didn’t think we’d need it. I didn’t think things would go that far.”

I was honestly embarrassed, “Please, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be angry with me.”

“Silvia,” He was extremely serious. He looked straight into my eyes and searched them before he spoke, “It would take a lot more than you asking me to respect you to upset me. I do not want to rush into having sex on my parent’s sofa for the sake of having sex any more than you do. It’s not very romantic, is it?” He blinked a few times, “I like the way you feel with all your curves is all. And you’re so incredibly soft I can’t help but want to touch you,” He paused, searching my eyes again, “But, look, I’m not a rapist. I don’t want to be a rapist. I care about you. I’d never want to do something that’d make you feel bad or you’d be sorry for later. And I would never ask you to do anything that you’re not in for one hundred percent. So from now on, don’t hesitate. You decide and when you say so, we stop. And, mind, I won’t get angry. I swear.”

“Thank you. I like that.”

“And I like you. Very much. I would never want you to be hurt or ticked off,” He put his arm around me and kissed me on the head as he plopped beside me. “I want you to be just fine, Just Silvia Cotton. It’s my personal goal to make sure you are always just fine.”

“Can we watch some television?” I snuggled against him.

“We absolutely can,” He began flicking through stations. “Oh, I like this one! Neil nails himself to his apartment building. It’s wicked funny! Have you seen it?”

And just like that we were innocently cuddling on the sofa once again.

If you were never in love during your childhood, you missed out on something very special. I am not speaking of those horrible crushes that keep you up at night and make you sick at the thought of the other person. I am talking about love in its purest form, love that happens before either person has ever been hurt by love. Love that is light and simple and never analysed or dissected. I am talking about passion that has to do with being fascinated and respectful of the other person’s body rather than lustful. I am talking about touching without consummation and kissing without profanity. I am talking about sacred love that comes not from your heart, but from the place in the centre of your soul that screams that this boy is what the universe has decided for you and that you know without a question that you are endlessly, hopelessly in love.

That kind of a love is a gift. It’s a package beautifully wrapped and set before you. All you have to do is pull back the ribbon, tear off the paper, yank it out and let it grow. Almost everyone sullies it, though. They hang on to the wrappings too long thinking that what is inside might not be as beautiful as the outside and without sun and air the creature within slowly dies. Or they look to see if another package is lovelier and abandon the first. But Oliver and I did not do that. We ripped that ribbon back and tore off that beautiful paper, pulled out our gift and we let our love grow without even pruning the leaves.

I suppose it helped that we were so young. We had no baggage, no ex-lovers with which to contend, we were not jealous or suspicious of each other. The thing that really made it work, though, was that we did not compete with each other. Whatever it was we were in, we were into it together. Partners from start to finish, we were hand in hand. Always. Whatever it was, hard or simple, we dug into it together and we saw it through to the end. Few people around us believed that two children could be as in love as we were. There were whispers about us and judgements made. Rumours spread. There were even times at school when it was suggested that we be removed from each other, but seeing how good we were together and how hopeless we were apart, none of our parents had the heart to do that.

Having been able to show our affection freely over break, it was nearly impossible to remember to follow the rules of proper conduct at school. We were caught snogging quite often on the grounds of Bennington. I had never had a detention in my life, but I spent at least an hour a week cleaning blackboards or washing windows the first month we got back. Only certain professors did anything about it, though. Most just told us to quit or made threats, but never followed through.

“Mister Dickinson and Miss Cotton,” Headmistress Pennyweather squirted us with water from the top of her sports bottle one afternoon when we thought we had a moment alone, “I believe that is inappropriate contact by definition of the school code. Oliver, I would be careful or people will begin to think that Alexander is just a brother and Silvia is your conjoined twin!” She looked over her shoulder as she continued walking, “My office, thirty minutes this evening at six!”

“Thirty? It’s only fifteen for snogging!” Oliver called after her.

“Yes, but this is not about snogging! I would like to discuss your questionable choice of courses next semester, so it’s thirty, Oliver!”

Oliver smiled at her as she exited. He adored that old lady.

Madame Pennyweather may have had a sense of humour about our getting off, but it became apparent that some other teachers did not. As our fellow classmates had imaginations that they might have put to better use, nasty little untruths began to spread to the personnel about Oliver and I being intimate on school grounds. Although she said she found it ridiculous, at the insistence of a few professors, Headmistress Pennyweather called a meeting with our parents.

Oliver and I sat in silence the entire time. I was embarrassed, but he was highly irritated. If I hadn’t known better I might have thought that he was Alex by the resentment in his eyes as he scowled at each professor in turn. A vein pulsed in his temple and the knot in his jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth.

“We believe that a respite between the two of them would be in their best interest,” Professor Lucas explained, “They both are excellent students and it would be a shame for anything… unexpected… to interrupt their promising futures.”

“I am afraid,” Headmistress Pennyweather said idly, “That God himself might strike me down if I were to agree to that.”

“No, no,” My father added, seeming a bit put out, “Oliver is a fine boy and Silvia has good sense. As long as her marks are up I am not worried about their relationship. I trust that your staff makes sure the children conduct themselves appropriately. Have they been caught doing anything more than kissing?”

“Well, no.” Professor Fields looked a bit embarrassed.

I was shocked at my dad. He rarely showed interest in anything I did, much less defended me. He let a long breath out of his nose and pinched his lips tight before he spoke again, “Then I don’t see a problem and, frankly, I am a bit insulted at your accusations against my daughter! I believe I instilled better morals in her than that!”

Sensing the tension, Oliver’s mother made an attempt at humour, “When we first realised how close Oliver and Silvia have gotten, we considered everything from glue remover to hand grenades to put some distance between them. But after we spent more time with Silvia and got to know her and then we saw them together, we changed our minds. Oliver’s better with Silvia than he is without her. He’s not getting into as much trouble in school as he was, is he? My phone certainly rings less. She keeps him in line, I reckon,” Anna looked between Oliver and me tenderly, “They are precious, both of them. I would go as far as to say that Oliver is in love with her and she seems to return his affection absolutely.” She turned back to Madame Pennyweather, “I know my son. Believe me, if you try to pry them apart, he will rebel. You’ll have him climbing out windows and scaling ledges in the dead of night to get to her. If you think I’m joking, you don’t know Oliver.”