No. I knew that wasn’t right. It wasn’t that Toby didn’t want the big things-he was a teenage boy, after all-but he was a gentleman. A patient, respectful boy who didn’t want to cross any lines. And we’d only been dating for a couple of days.
Did that make me a slut? The fact that we’d only been dating for, like, four days and I was already rolling around with him in my teeny-tiny bed? Had my thing with Wesley totally twisted my perception of sex?
Or did every girl do it?
Vikki slept with most of her boyfriends on the first date.
The whole school thought Vikki was a whore, though.
Casey had slept with Zack only a week after they’d started going out.
Casey had been fifteen at the time, and Zack was her first real boyfriend. She was naive and stupid, and she didn’t hesitate to admit that it was a major mistake.
But I knew I wouldn’t feel that way about Toby. I mean, I was the one pushing this forward. I wanted to go farther with him. Because I liked him. Because he was cute and sweet. Because he wasn’t ashamed to date me. I couldn’t think of one good reason not to sleep with him.
God, I just wanted to stop thinking. I kissed him harder, pulled him closer, trying to re-create that mind-numbing feeling I’d had before… with Wesley. But it wasn’t working. I couldn’t stop thinking.
I undid the rest of the buttons on Toby’s shirt and helped him throw it onto the floor. He was kind of scrawny with hardly any muscle-Casey would have called him “skinny chic” or something. Tentatively, his hands began to lift the hem of my T-shirt. He moved slowly in case I wanted to stop him. Just like how he kissed me, always worried he might have crossed the line. I hooked my leg around his waist and ground my body against his. No lines. Maybe there were no lines. Maybe I’d never had any to begin with.
God knows how long we spent making out on my bed, pieces of clothing being removed at a snail’s pace. I was already breathless by the time he had the nerve to pull my T-shirt over my head and toss it to the carpet. While part of me appreciated his patience, I couldn’t help thinking, Took you long enough.
I could feel his right hand inching-like a turtle-toward the clasp of my bra. At this rate, it would have been midnight before he got it off, and for some reason, I felt urgent and anxious. I wanted him to get it off. I wanted to feel attractive and desired. I wanted to stop thinking. So I pushed him away and sat up, my legs still wrapped around him. We both breathed heavily, gazing at each other.
“Are you sure about this?” Toby whispered.
“Very.”
I reached around to undo the clasp, but right when my fingers grazed the hook, there was a knock on my bedroom door.
“Bianca?”
Toby and I jumped. Both our necks snapped around just as the door swung open.
Wesley Rush stared back at us, frozen in the doorway.
23
“Oh God,” I muttered as Toby and I made a frantic effort to untangle ourselves. He scrambled off my bed and grabbed his shirt off the floor, his face glowing scarlet. I reached down and picked up my T-shirt. “Wesley, how did you get in here?” I demanded.
“The door was unlocked,” he said. “You didn’t answer when I knocked… Now I can see why.” His dark gray eyes were big with what I could only guess was shock, dissolving quickly into disgust, and they stared directly at Toby.
Why was he shocked?
Because he didn’t think anyone else would fool around with the Duff?
“But what are you doing here?” I asked, feeling a sudden surge of anger rush through my veins. I yanked my T-shirt over my head and stood up.
“You weren’t answering your phone,” Wesley muttered. “I was worried, but it looks like you’re just fine.” He glared at Toby for a moment before looking back at me. “My mistake.”
Now he was the one who looked angry.
Angry and hurt.
I didn’t get it.
I looked over at Toby. His shirt was on and buttoned, and he was staring awkwardly at his feet. “Hey,” I said. He looked up at me. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
He nodded.
I pushed Wesley into the hallway with one hand and shut my bedroom door behind me with the other. “God, Wesley,” I hissed, irritated as I ushered him down the stairs. “I always knew you were a perv, but watching me? That’s a whole new level of creepy.”
I assumed he’d say something to that. Something arrogant and cocky. Or maybe just tease me, the way he always did. But he just stared at me, a serious expression on his face. Not at all what I’d expected from Wesley.
Silence.
“So,” he said at last. “You and Tucker are together now?”
“Yes,” I answered uneasily. “We are.”
“When did that happen?”
“Last week… not that it’s any of your business.” Another jab. Another attempt to make this conversation normal.
But he didn’t take the bait. “Right. Sorry.” He sounded so awkward. So different from the smooth, confident Wesley I was used to.
Another uncomfortable silence.
“Why are you here, Wesley?”
“I told you,” he said. “I got worried. You’ve been avoiding me for the past week at school, and when I called you today, you didn’t answer. I thought something might have happened with your dad. So I came to make sure you were okay.”
I bit my lower lip, a wave of guilt washing over me. “That’s sweet,” I murmured. “But I’m fine. Dad apologized for the other night, and he’s going to AA meetings now, so…”
“So you weren’t going to tell me?”
“Why would I?”
“Because I care!” Wesley yelled. His words crashed into me, stunning me for a second. “I’ve been worried about you since you left my house a week ago! You didn’t even say why you left, Bianca. What was I supposed to do? Just assume you would be all right?”
“God,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t-”
“I’m worrying about you, and you’re fucking that pretentious little-!”
“Hey!” I shouted. “Don’t bring Toby into this.”
“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asked.
“I haven’t been avoiding you.”
“Don’t lie,” Wesley said. “You’ve been doing everything you can to stay away from me. You won’t even look at me in class, and you practically sprint down the hallway if you see me coming. Even when you hated me, you didn’t act like that. You might threaten to stab me, but you never-”
“I still hate you,” I snarled up at him. “You’re infuriating! You act like I owe you something. I’m sorry I made you worry, Wesley, but I just can’t be around you anymore. You helped me escape from my problems for a while, and I appreciate that, but I have to face reality. I can’t keep running away.”
“But that is exactly what you’re doing right now,” Wesley hissed. “You’re running away.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t pretend, Bianca,” he said. “You’re smarter than that, and so am I. I finally figured out what you meant when you left. You said you were like Hester. I get it now. The first time you came to my house, when we wrote that paper, you said Hester was trying to escape. But everything caught up with Hester in the end, didn’t it? Well, something finally caught up with you, but you’re just running away again. Only, he”-Wesley pointed to my bedroom door-“is your escape this time.” He took a step toward me, forcing me to crane my neck even more to see his face. “Admit it, Duffy.”
“Admit what?”
“That you’re running away from me,” he said. “You realized you’re in love with me and you bailed because it scared the shit out of you.”
I scoffed as if it were ridiculous-wishing it were ridiculous-and rolled my eyes, stepping back to show he couldn’t intimidate me, that he wasn’t right. “Oh my God. Get over yourself. You’re so fucking dramatic, Wesley. This isn’t a damn soap opera.”