Going Under (3 page)

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Authors: S. Walden

Tags: #fiction, #romance, #womens fiction, #contemporary, #contemporary fiction, #teen fiction, #teen drama, #realistic fiction, #new adult

BOOK: Going Under
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“So it’s like I’m Samantha,” Gretchen had
said.

“Except that you
have
judged me,” I
replied.

“Yeah, but that’s because what you did was
totally shitty. I’m still gonna be your friend, though,” Gretchen
said, and then hugged me until I stopped crying. “I’ll always be
your friend, Brookey. We’re allowed one huge mess-up in our
lives.”

“Just one?” I blubbered.

“Just one,” she said.

I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling
thinking of Gretchen’s words. We’re allowed one huge mess-up. I
wish I would have saved mine for later on in life. Eighteen felt
like too young an age to already use it. I didn’t think it was
fair, and then wondered why I kept blaming everyone and everything
around me for my bad decisions.

I blamed Finn for the dissolution of my
friendship as though I had no hand in it. Like he forced me to
sneak around with him and have sex with him and find excuses to
avoid hanging out with Beth so I could see him. I actually found
myself blaming Beth at one point: if she weren’t so mopey all the
time, I would have wanted to spend more time with her! I
conveniently forgot about her confession to me as the reason for
her deep depression. Sometimes I wondered at the size of my heart,
if I even had one at all.

I blamed my mother for the fact that I
didn’t own any closed-toe pumps and had to wear hers to Beth’s
funeral. It wasn’t even important, but somehow I made it out to be
a big deal. If I hadn’t been wearing those heels, I wouldn’t have
almost fallen in the hallway at the church forcing me to grab
Funeral Guy’s hand to keep from going down. I went so far as to
convince myself that I wouldn’t have even run into him had I not
been wearing those shoes. Yes, it was all my mother’s fault. She
was the reason I flirted.

How could a genuinely intelligent girl be
such a fucking idiot?

I felt so tired, but I was reluctant to fall
asleep. I was afraid of dreaming about unpleasant things. I knew it
was wrong, but I closed my eyes and conjured Funeral Guy’s face,
imagining the things his blue irises said to me.
I think you’re
beautiful
, they said.
I think I love you.
And I drifted
into a self-absorbed slumber that eventually betrayed me, summoning
ghosts from my past in favor of the boy with the translucent
eyes.


Why don’t you get that sexy little ass
over here?” Finn said playfully. He reached out for my leg, but I
was standing too far away.


Your girlfriend will be here any
minute,” I replied, giggling.

We decided to meet at Beth’s house and ride
together to my All-Star cheerleading competition. Beth was running
late, leaving Finn and me alone in her bedroom.


I don’t care,” Finn said. He jumped up
from the desk chair and grabbed me before I could escape to the
other side of the room. He wrapped me up in his arms and planted a
series of kisses on my neck.


I care, Finn,” I said breathlessly,
feeling my body surrender to his mouth.


No you don’t,” he mumbled into my neck,
walking me over to Beth’s bed. He sat down on the edge and pulled
me onto his lap, hands resting on my bottom under my cheerleading
skirt. “Now, I have a good idea about it, but I want you to tell me
anyway,” he said. “Why are these little things called spankies?” He
squeezed my bottom, and I squealed.


They’re not called spankies anymore,” I
corrected. “They’re called cheerleading briefs.”

Finn scrunched up his nose. “Gross. I like
spankies much better.”

I chuckled and nuzzled my face into his
neck.


You never answered my question,” he
teased. His forefinger traced the waistband of my spankies then
dipped under the fabric. I squirmed.


I don’t know,” I said, feeling my face
flush.


Well, I think I know,” Finn said softly.
“Were you a good girl at school today?” he asked, his lips brushing
my ear, hand patting my bottom.


I’m always good,” I managed to get out.
I felt myself already growing wet, and I didn’t have time to get
all hot and bothered.


That’s not what I heard,” Finn
continued. He lifted me off his lap and laid me on the bed. I tried
to get up, but he held me still, wiggling his eyebrows at me before
rolling me over onto my stomach.


Don’t you dare,” I warned, feeling my
skirt flip up.


Damn, Brooke,” he said. “You have one
fine ass.” He leaned over me and whispered in my ear again. “And
I’m about to teach it a lesson.” He straddled my back facing my
feet and ran his hands all over my backside.


Finn!” I squealed when his hand came
down on me, lightly smacking my bottom. He squeezed me then did it
again. And again until I was thrashing about wildly trying to buck
him off of me. I didn’t realize I was laughing so hard until he
mentioned it.


You’re in trouble, young lady,” Finn
said, trying for a serious tone. “Why are you laughing?”


Get off!” I yelled between
breaths.


No way,” Finn replied. “You haven’t
learned your lesson yet,” and he spanked me again. This time a
little harder.

My head flew up and I almost yelled, “No!”
but that wouldn’t have been right because I wanted him to do it
again. I arched my back pushing my ass up and heard the sharp
intake of his breath. He spanked me again, but I stayed quiet.


You’re not even gonna cry for me a
little?” Finn asked. He spanked me again. Harder. And I let out a
tiny whimper.

He climbed off of me and flipped me over,
grabbing hold of my spankies before I could protest. He pulled them
down my legs along with my panties but was too impatient to work
them over my sneakers. Instead, he let them rest around my ankles
as he lifted my thighs up and over his shoulders. I was slightly
distressed in this position, most of my weight resting on the back
of my neck and shoulders.


Finn!” I screamed completely exposed to
him. He had done this to me before—many times—but always in the
dark. Right now daylight streamed through the slats of the window
blinds giving him a perfect view of everything I liked to keep
hidden.


I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” Finn
said, and then he ran his tongue over me.

I moaned and twisted my body, but it was
useless. He held me still, his muscular forearms pressing into my
lower abdomen. He licked me softly, eliciting cries and occasional
screams until I thought I wanted to die. It felt too good, and I
knew I didn’t deserve it. I fisted the sheets on either side of me
and begged him to stop.


I will,” he said, his lips still on me.
“When I’ve made you come.”


No no no,” I said halfheartedly. “I have
a competition. Beth. Beth will be here any minute.”

He ignored me and kept up his gentle
assault. His tongue all over me. His light kisses. I wanted to come
and knew I would harder than he’d ever made me in the past. I don’t
know why it was so powerful this time. Perhaps because we were
being too reckless, too dangerous, and the rush was a powerful,
addictive intoxicant.

But I should have paid attention to the
unsettling feeling deep inside my heart. It was a warning bell with
a big flashing red light. I could hear the smooth, calm female
voice over the intercom system—the one in all the sci-fi movies:
“Attention. Ten seconds until detonation.” And then the ship
exploded, and my body along with it. I screamed into space, felt
the oxygen ripped out of me, the stars popping one by one behind my
eyes, inside my heart, throughout my legs.


What the fuck is this?”

I lay there sated, frozen. I didn’t want to
turn my head, but I forced myself to. Beth stood in her doorway.
Her face was white, and in my stupefied state, I wanted to tell her
that—that there was something wrong with her face. And then somehow
I came to, and I realized what I looked like. Lying on her bed with
her boyfriend’s face between my legs. Finn lifted me off his
shoulders, and I scrambled to pull up my spankies.


What the fuck are you doing?!” Beth
screamed.


Beth, oh my God, I don’t know!” I said.
I stood on the other side of her bed, trapped like a scared
animal.


You don’t know?!” she yelled. “My
boyfriend was just eating you out, Brooke! And you don’t
know?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but there were
no words.


Answer me, you fucking bitch!”


Beth, stop,” Finn said.


Are you kidding me? ‘Stop’? What were
you doing? How could you do this to me? My boyfriend!”


Beth, you and I both know it’s over.
It’s been over,” Finn said. “You don’t even like me.”


You got that right, you fucking prick!”
Beth shouted. She turned in my direction. “You were my best friend,
Brooke.

The hurt in her eyes broke me to my core.
I choked on the sob. I choked on her word.
Were.
“You
were
my best friend.”


Why are you crying?” Beth asked.
“Because you got caught? Or you all of a sudden feel guilty? How
long has this been going on?!”

I shook my head.


You’re gonna tell me,” Beth demanded.
She advanced towards me a few paces before changing her mind and
standing still.


A few months, Beth,” Finn answered, and
I wanted to hit him.

Beth gasped. “A few months?!”


And we love each other. I’m sorry I hurt
you,” Finn said. He sounded like a complete jackass. And what the
hell was he talking about? Love? We never said anything about
loving each other.

Beth laughed derisively. “Wow. Love. Okay.”
Her face streamed tears. I watched as one clung to her jaw before
plopping to the floor.


Beth, please,” I whispered.


Get out of my house,” she said.
“Now.”

I didn’t move.


Now!”

Finn grabbed my hand and led me out. I
thought Beth would lunge at me when I passed by her, but she stood
stoic, staring at me as though I were a stranger. And then I heard
the door slam, and my entire world shifted in an instant.

 

 

 

 

Three

My father stood in the middle of the bedroom
looking nervous.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked. He
glanced at me for a moment, then turned to the window.

“About what?” I replied.

“The room,” he said. “Is it all right?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” I lied. It looked like a
room that belonged to a 10-year-old girl in love with Justin Bieber
and the color purple. I would change it immediately.

“That’s good,” Dad replied, relief evident
in his voice.

I grinned. It was impossibly uncomfortable
standing together in the bedroom, but neither one of us made a move
to leave.

“You feel like pizza tonight?” he asked
after a moment. “There’s a really good joint up the road. Family
owned.”

“Sounds good,” I said. I plopped down on the
bed.

“I usually cook,” he went on. “But I didn’t
know what you like to eat.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“I eat anything,” I replied. I wasn’t going
to make it
too
easy for him.

He sighed. “You do, huh?”

I grinned up at him, and he chuckled. And
then he relaxed, and I did the same.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“Where did you get these posters of Justin
Bieber?”

“Wal-Mart,” he answered. “Why? You don’t
like him? The lady at the store said—”

“It’s okay, Dad.”

He shuffled over to the curtains framing the
one window in the room and tugged on them.

“You probably don’t like these either, do
you?” he asked.

I smiled again, and he shook his head.

“I’m not listening to those women in the
office anymore,” he said irritably, but there was humor running
underneath the words.

“Well, we can fix anything with receipts,” I
offered, and he nodded. “Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you didn’t really want this, and I’m
sorry,” I said. I thought it was better to just be honest.

It was a weird situation for all of us. Mom
was across the country by now. Dad was still living in the past in
the same house that smelled of summers when I was nine years old
and hosted the best sleepovers with Beth in the history of
sleepovers. Everything looked the same, but it was the smell that
made my heart ache. And I was in a new place, too. I knew he didn’t
understand why I asked to live with him. I didn’t really understand
it except that I felt compelled to attend Beth’s high school my
senior year.

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I want you
here. I really do. I just haven’t been a full-time parent in a
while, that’s all.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry,” I said.
“I’m pretty easy and independent. I just landed a job at that diner
you used to take us to. You won’t have to worry about giving me
money.” I shouldn’t have said that last part.

“Why would you think I’d have a problem
giving you money?” Dad asked. He pulled out his wallet.

“No, I just meant that I don’t want you
thinking you have to change your whole life now that I’m here. I
can take care of myself. I won’t be in the way,” I said, and I saw
the hurt in his eyes.

“What life?” he asked quietly. I didn’t know
what to say.

He stared out the window while I traced the
cheetah print on my comforter. I had no idea Dad wanted me here.
Living with him. I looked around the room then. Really looked, and
I saw it. The time and detail he put into everything. The bright
purple throw pillows on the bed that accented the comforter. The
full-length mirror attached to my closet door that boasted a thick
frame painted with purple and white flowers. The fuzzy-trimmed
bedside table lamps. Purple as well. My old pom-poms attached to
the top of the mirror over my dresser. He even found my old My
Little Ponies and lined them on top of the dresser. I wanted to cry
for how wrong it looked and how right it felt. I wouldn’t change a
thing, I decided. Well, the posters would go.

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