When Jason Winkler sat down next to Kelli in Algebra I, she took it as a sign that they were meant to be together. He was by far the cutest boy in the school—everyone thought so. He was tall but not skinny. His dark hair fell over his blue eyes in a way that made Kelli want to reach out and brush it back with the tips of her fingers, then let them slide down the warmth of his cheek. He had a lopsided smile that was almost always accompanied by a wink—Kelli was pretty sure that on the first day of class, he’d smiled more than once at her before sauntering to the back row and plopping into the chair beside her. He was a junior but spent more time at basketball practice than studying, so this was the third time he was taking the introductory class. Kelli was just a freshman and didn’t care about that. She only cared that of all the open spots in the room, he picked the one next to her.
“Hey,” he said this morning, swinging his head around to look at her. There it was. The smile . . . and the wink. Kelli felt the space between her legs get warm and she blushed.
“Hey,” she echoed, tucking the sheet of her long blond hair behind one ear. It was her pride and joy, that hair. Sleek and shiny, not an ounce of frizz or split ends. She spent hours brushing it at night, staring in the mirror, practicing imagined red-carpet speeches into her comb. Her parents said she was vain; she preferred to think of it as optimistic.
“You get the assignment done?” Jason asked as he stretched his long legs out straight beneath the desk and crossed one ankle over the other.
She rolled her eyes. “Kind of. It was totally hard.” She hoped he noticed the outfit she’d changed into in the school bathroom—peg-legged Levi’s and a tight pink sweater, borrowed from her friend Nancy. They were clothes other girls took for granted, but her parents would have screamed at her for wearing them. Their idea of appropriate clothes for school included two colors, black and white, and one shape—boxy.
“Maybe you need a tutor,” Jason said.
She smiled like she knew a secret and raised one of her eyebrows, another thing she’d practiced in front of her mirror. “Are you interested in the job?” she asked him. She couldn’t believe how bold she was being, but all of the articles she read in Cosmopolitan said men liked it when a woman showed confidence. In order to read the magazine, she had to sneak to the library after school, telling her parents she was doing homework. She was studying . . . in a way. Brushing up on how to get a boyfriend.
“That’s not the only job I’m interested in,” Jason said, and his friends Mike and Rory, who sat on the other side of him, snickered.
Kelli blushed again—her Cosmo textbook had taught her exactly what he meant—but kept smiling as she directed her attention to the front of the room, where their teacher was about to start class. Jason leaned over and nudged her leg with his fist. “You going to the basketball game Friday night?”
She shook her head. Her parents made her go to youth group at their church on Fridays, which was just about the most boring thing in the world.
“You should come,” Jason said. “I’m on the starting lineup this week. Maybe we could do something after.”
He was asking her out on a date! She forced herself to shrug, knowing boys also liked it if you played just a little bit hard to get. “Maybe,” she said. “I’ll see if I can.”
“Cool,” he said.
For the rest of class, Kelli didn’t hear a word of what was said. All she could think about was talking with Nancy, seeing if her friend could help her figure out a way to get to that basketball game. Nancy’s parents weren’t old, like Kelli’s. Nancy’s mother ran a local coffee shop and loved to tell jokes; her father was a sociology professor at Cal Poly who wore jeans to class just like his students. Kelli’s father was a bank manager who wore the same black slacks and white, short-sleeved shirt with a plaid bow tie to work every day. Her mother stayed home, shopping for groceries and cleaning their house, and hadn’t worn a pair of jeans in her life. They’d met at church in downtown San Luis Obispo more than thirty-five years ago and quickly married, thinking they’d start a family as soon as possible. Kelli hadn’t arrived for another twenty years—something they hadn’t expected, having already grown accustomed to a life on their own. Kelli was a blond ball of energy, bouncing into their lives and disrupting the peace. She’d always felt like they didn’t know what to do with her. They hoped for a daughter who liked to sit quietly and listen to stories; they had a daughter who raced into mud puddles. Kelli learned to separate herself into two different people—the one they wanted her to be and the one she was. As she got older, the side of her they didn’t approve of seemed harder to hide. Now that she was in high school especially, and there were dances to go to and dates to be had. She loved her parents, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could pretend to be the girl they imagined her to be.
Kelli sighed when the bell rang, thinking about how hard it would be to make it to the game on Friday, but gave Jason one last smile, letting her gaze linger on his for a moment, just to keep him interested. “Don’t forget,” he said, and she nodded, thrilled by the possibility that she might get to fall in love.
* * *
Kelli was only six when she realized her parents were different. Her mother would take her to the park after school, but while the other moms and dads chased after their children on the playground, Kelli’s would settle on a bench with a book, urging her to go play on her own. The other mothers chatted and laughed together, but Kelli’s mom tended to keep to herself. She had a few friends from their church, but none of them had children Kelli’s age.
One night, as her mother tucked her into bed and read her a story, Kelli noticed that her mother had wisps of silver strung through the honey-blond locks she had given her daughter. “Why do you have gray in your hair, Mama?” Kelli asked, and her mother leaned down to kiss Kelli’s forehead, as she did every night. When she pulled back, she smiled at Kelli.
“Because I’m forty-eight, sweet girl,” she said.
“Why doesn’t Janie’s mama have silver hair?” Kelli thought her mother’s hair was beautiful, like it belonged to one of the princesses from the fairy tales Kelli loved to read.
“Because I’m older than Janie’s mama,” her mother said, still smiling. “Most people have babies when they’re very young, but your father and I didn’t. You surprised us.”
Kelli thought about this, knitting her eyebrows together. “Was I an accident?” Kelli’s friend Pete had told her about how he overheard his parents talking about him as an accident—a baby they hadn’t wanted.
Her mother sat down on the edge of her bed and ran her hand along the side of Kelli’s cheek. “Absolutely not,” she said. “You weren’t an accident. You were a surprise. There’s a difference.”
“What kind of difference?”
“An accident is something you didn’t want. A surprise is something you didn’t realize how much you wanted it until it came along.”
Kelli had gone to sleep that night feeling loved. It was hard to remember it now, at fourteen, when her parents seemed so far away from her—so impossible to reach. She wondered sometimes if she’d been given to them by mistake. If she was adopted instead of born to them, simply because she was so fundamentally different from them both. She’d always tried to please them—to be quiet and respectful and comply with their requests. She was obedient, accompanying them to church every Sunday, helping her mother clean the house, leaving her father alone in the den so he could read his paper every night in peace. And yet . . . she imagined another family—the one she was meant to live with. Her fantasy mother would laugh more than she scolded; her father would gather her up for a cuddle on the couch, then help her with her homework. They’d have a dog and two cats, and maybe even another daughter so Kelli would have someone to giggle with in her bedroom into the wee hours of morning. She imagined a loud, messy house filled with happiness and love. A house entirely different from the one she lived in now.
She loved her parents, but she knew they didn’t understand her. Kelli had big dreams—she wanted the kind of passion she read about in the romance novels at the library. She longed for the rush of attraction, the kind of connection she never saw between her mother and father. They never held hands, never kissed more than a swift, dry peck on the lips. They followed strict routines, waking at five each morning to read the Bible and pray together—something Kelli had begun refusing to do just this year. She wasn’t sure she believed everything they believed. She didn’t feel Jesus the way they said she should, even though she had asked Him into her heart seven times, just to be sure He took.
Just last Sunday after church, as they’d walked home together, she’d even been courageous enough to ask her father how he knew there really was a God. He’d looked at her with a cloudy expression, his pale blue eyes narrowing. “I know because I know,” he said, and Kelli thought that was a meaningless response. She tried again.
“But how do you know? I don’t understand how you can believe in something you can’t see.”
Her father stopped, grabbed her arm, and gave her another stern look. “It’s called having faith, young lady. You don’t see God, you feel Him. Do you understand?”
Kelli nodded, a little frightened by the grip of her father’s hand. He so rarely touched her anymore, it felt foreign. Unnatural.
“Thomas,” her mother said, reaching out to pull his hand off of their daughter, and they’d walked the rest of the way home in silence. Kelli’s mother recognized her daughter starting to pull away from them—away from God—and she felt helpless to do anything to stop it. All she could hope was that Kelli might learn the error of her ways and come back to them. All she could do was pray.
Kelli thought about that moment all week long as she considered how to ask her parents if she could go to the basketball game. She knew her parents would never let her go. At the beginning of the year, she’d brought up the idea of trying out to be a cheerleader. “Why would you want to flaunt yourself like that in front of everyone?” her father asked.
She’d sighed at the time, wondering how, exactly, she was supposed to answer a question like that. “I was just thinking it would be good exercise,” she told him. She loved how the girls looked in their tight red sweaters and short pleated skirts. She loved the bounce of their ponytails and the way all the football players swarmed around them like bees.
He’d looked down at her over the top of his black-rimmed glasses. “You can take a walk,” he said. And that was that.
Now it was Friday night and Kelli sat with her parents at the dining room table inside their small brick house. Her mother had made them pasta for dinner—sauce from a jar over mushy egg noodles. “This is good, Mama,” she said, even as the bite she had just taken stuck in her throat.
“Thank you, dear,” her mother said. Her graying blond hair was pulled into a loose bun at the base of her neck and she wore a black dress sprinkled with tiny white flowers. She looked at Kelli’s father. “Thomas? How’s your dinner?”
“Just fine, thank you,” her father said. He took a gulp of milk, then moved his gaze to his daughter. “How was school today, Kelli?” He wasn’t sure how to talk to her lately. She had always been pretty, but now . . . it made him uncomfortable, to see his daughter this way, knowing how men were. What they’d want to do with her. She used to be a skinny thing, with knobby knees and barely any fat on her at all, but her body had blossomed over the last year, her hips rounded and her waist nipped in. But most disturbing to him was the swell of her chest, the way it pushed at the blouses she wore, like it was anxious for the world to notice the change. He wanted to protect her, but he didn’t know how. It was hard to look at her now, hard to understand that this was still his little girl.
Kelli nodded. “It was good,” she said, then took a deep breath. “There’s a basketball game tonight at the gym. All the kids are going.” She paused, feeling both her parents’ eyes on her. “Do you think . . . would it be okay if I went, too?”
Her mother stitched her thin brows together over her pale blue eyes. “You have youth group,” she said.
“I know,” Kelli said. “I thought I could miss it just this once. Please?”
Her parents were silent, staring at their daughter. When they were in high school, both of them were more interested in studying than attending sporting events or dances. Thomas wanted to work in a bank and Ruth never had aspirations to be anything but a housewife. He loved the structure of numbers and strict procedure; she loved the time she spent taking care of their home and volunteering at their church. They didn’t stray outside of the path they knew their parents wanted them to be on; they never pushed any limits.
Though they were not demonstrative people, they loved their daughter, and up until she’d turned fourteen, they’d assumed she’d simply behave as they had at her age. But sometimes, there were traces of makeup on her face when she came home from school, evidence of misbehavior that she’d failed to wash thoroughly away. Ruth told Thomas this was normal teenage rebellion, that as long as she was coming home at all, they should be grateful. “It could be worse,” she said. “Much worse.”
They did what they could, of course. Ruth only bought Kelli the most shapeless tops and baggy slacks for her to wear at school. She thought of it as armor against the army of young men who would surely try to have their way with her daughter if given a chance. They kept her busy with youth group and church services; they discouraged the activities that might lead her off course.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Thomas finally said. “Maybe another time, when we can go with you.”
Kelli nodded, knowing it was futile to try to convince them. At least she had asked, which was more than she’d usually do. They finished dinner in relative silence, and after Kelli helped her mother clean up the kitchen, her father drove them over to the church. They had Bible study that night, which met in the far corner of the sanctuary while the youth group gathered in the basement.
Her mother kissed her forehead as they parted ways. “We’ll see you in a couple of hours,” she said, and Kelli nodded, wondering if God would strike her down for telling a lie.
* * *
By the time Kelli arrived at the gym, the game was already over. After her parents disappeared around the corner of the church hallway, she had slipped out the side door and walked as fast as she could across town to the school. Halfway there, she hid behind a huge rhododendron bush and took off the stupid blouse she’d put on over Nancy’s tight pink sweater, which she’d worn again that day. There was nothing she could do about the black slacks she had on—her jeans wouldn’t fit beneath them and her parents would have suspected something was up if she had brought a bag to youth group. She swiped on a bit of red lipstick and took her hair out of the low ponytail at the base of her neck, letting it fall around her shoulders. She hoped Jason would still think she looked pretty. She hoped he might kiss her.
When she got to the school, people poured out of the gym doors into the parking lot and Kelli scanned the crowd for Jason, knowing his dark head would be easily seen. She saw Nancy and beckoned her friend over.
“Oh my god!” she squealed. “Your parents let you come?”
“Not exactly,” Kelli said, then told Nancy what she had done.
“You are going to get in so much trouble,” Nancy observed, cracking the piece of gum she had in her mouth and fluffing her hot-rollered black curls.
Kelli sighed. “I don’t care. I’m sick of never getting to do anything.”
Nancy’s eyes got wide and she smiled, looking just over Kelli’s shoulder. “Hi, Jason,” she said, reaching over to pinch Kelli quickly on the arm.
“Hey,” Jason said, and Kelli whipped around to face him. “You missed the game,” he said.
“Yeah.” Kelli tried to sound nonchalant. “I had to hang out with my parents for a while.”
“That’s cool,” Jason said. “You want to go for a drive?”
“Sure,” Kelli said, her cheeks flushing from more than just her hurried walk to the school. She looked at Nancy. “I’ll call you later?”
Nancy nodded, and Kelli let Jason take her hand and lead her to his green truck. Jason Winkler is holding my hand! She straightened her spine and lifted her chin as they walked, hopeful she looked natural alongside him. She felt the eyes of the other students on them, and it made her feel important. She knew her parents would be furious with her, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was how Jason looked at her as he opened the truck door. Like he wanted her.
“What a gentleman,” she remarked with a playful lilt in her voice.
“I try,” Jason said, smiling. He shut her door and loped around the truck to the driver’s side.
“Where are we going?” Kelli asked as he started the engine.
“I know a spot where we can go to talk,” he said. “And get to know each other better.”
Kelli smiled and crossed her legs, tucking her hands between her thighs. Her muscles sparked with excitement—she was going to be Jason’s girlfriend, she just knew it. “Did we win the game?” she asked, remembering from Cosmo how much boys liked it when you asked them questions about their interests.
“Yep,” he said, pulling out of the school parking lot onto the main drive of town. “Seventy-four to sixty-two. I shot twenty of those points.”
“Wow,” Kelli said. “They’re lucky to have you.”
“I’m the lucky one,” Jason said. “Look at who’s riding in my truck tonight.”
Kelli flushed with pleasure and giggled. They were silent awhile, listening to the radio as Jason drove them off the main drag and out of town. A small panicky fire ignited in Kelli’s stomach. “I can’t stay out too late,” she said, keeping her voice light. “My parents don’t know where I am.”
Jason laughed. “You snuck out?”
“Sort of,” she said. She glanced out the window into the dark. “Where are we going, again?”
“Just a spot off the highway,” Jason said. “It’s quiet and a really cool place to look at the stars.”
“Okay,” Kelli said, but she looked at her watch. She’d left the church about an hour ago, which meant she had another hour before youth group was over and her parents realized she was gone.
“Chill,” Jason said. “I’ll get you home . . . eventually.” He chuckled, then signaled to pull off the highway onto an unmarked gravel road.
Kelli laughed too, but the sound tumbled out of her on a false note. Jason turned into a spot between two tall evergreen trees and shut down the engine and cut the headlights. Kelli could hear the bright chirp of crickets around them and the distant hoot of an owl. “Wow,” she said. “It’s really dark. We’re really in the woods.”
Jason stretched his right arm over the back of the bench seat. “Don’t worry. It’s my dad’s property. It’s totally safe.” He patted the spot next to him with his left hand. “Why don’t you scoot over here? I can keep you warm.”
Anticipation sparkled along Kelli’s skin as she did as he asked, leaning against him and letting his arm drop around her shoulders. His hand dangled over her right breast, his fingertips just barely brushed the edge of her sweater, and she felt her breath catch in her chest. He was definitely going to kiss her.
“I’m glad you came out tonight,” Jason said, pressing his mouth on her ear. His hot breath made her shiver, a reaction she didn’t understand. Why would heat give me the chills?
“Me too,” she said, snuggling a little closer to him. This is what love feels like, she decided. He wouldn’t have brought her here unless he was falling in love with her. He wouldn’t have sat next to her in class or asked her on a date. Maybe he’d had a crush on her as long as she had liked him. Maybe he went home and crawled into bed thinking of what it would be like to kiss her, too.
Bravely, she turned her head so they were looking at each other. Kiss me, she thought, and then he did, as though he had read her mind, putting his lips softly against hers. Her entire body began to vibrate and she felt like she might melt right there in his front seat. This was what her magazines talked about. This feeling, right here. Kelli never wanted it to end.
Jason set his left hand on the top of her thigh, moving it upward over her belly and onto her breast. He squeezed once, lightly, then again, harder. Kelli squirmed and pulled her mouth away from his. “Hey,” she said.
“Sorry,” he said. “I can’t help it. You’re so hot.” He kissed her again, pushing his tongue inside her mouth this time and rolling it around. Kelli put her hands on his chest and tried to get him to slow down. His hands were suddenly all over her, slipping under her sweater, pushing her bra out of the way. His fingers touched her bare skin and she was overcome by that melting feeling again. He took her hand and put it on the zipper of his jeans. She gasped at the shape of him—she knew this was supposed to happen. She knew that when a boy loved her enough, he would want her this much.
Jason groaned as he kissed her, pulling his hands away from her for a minute while he undid his jeans. “I want you so bad,” he said. “I love you.”
He loves me, Kelli thought as she slipped off her pants and lay down on the seat. Jason pulled down her underwear and pressed his body against hers. She gasped at the sharp pain as he entered her, gritting her teeth and trying not to cry as he pushed once, twice, then shuddered. It was over almost before it began and Kelli wondered if she’d done something wrong. But then Jason kissed her and she let herself believe all was well. He loves me, she thought again, and nothing else meant a thing.
