I pushed the first pill through the thin layer of foil and held it in the palm of my hand, a tiny yellow circle of chemicals that meant so, so much. According to the doctor at the clinic, since I’d started my period on Wednesday, I could take the pill today, Monday, and be protected right away. The doctor had given me a long, involved explanation as to why that was necessary, and how estrogen pills were different from progestin-only pills, but most of that had gone straight past me. I’d absorbed the strict warning about how important the timing was, but that was it.
I popped the pill into my mouth, washed it down with a sip of water from the bottle of Fiji on my nightstand. There, I was officially on birth control. I slid the packet of pills into the pink plastic makeup case, which was basically a compact but fit the circular packet of pills perfectly. I’d Googled how to hide birth control from your parents, and the compact case was the best solution I’d found. I tucked the compact into an inside zipper pocket of my purse and tried to calm my inner panic. I hadn’t told Jason I was getting birth control, but only because I hadn’t seen him since I’d gone. It had been a kind of last-minute trip. Maria had come over unannounced for a weekend away from college, and we’d gone shopping. Gossip about boys had turned into my relationship with Jason, which had turned into her pestering me about whether we were “active” or not. All of which led to her dragging me out of the mall and to the nearest clinic. She hadn’t taken no for an answer.
“Becca, you don’t want to be stupid about this, okay? Maybe you’re not sleeping with him yet, but you will. This way, if anything happens, you’re protected.” Maria was very practical and matter-of-fact. “You’re only sixteen, and shouldn’t be having sex, but I was when I was your age, so I can’t talk.”
I put in my earbuds and scrolled through my playlist on my iPod until I found something that seemed to speak to me: “First Day of My Life” by Bright Eyes. I had my notebook open, a pen in my hand, waiting. I knew the feeling by now, the swelling in my heart and mind, the flux and flow of disconnected words inside me. I put the iPod on shuffle, closed my eyes, and waited, just listened. “We’re Going to Be Friends” by The White Stripes came on next, and god, did I love that song. I’d heard the Jack Johnson version first, and then The White Stripes version had come up on Pandora, and I’d been hooked. I still wasn’t sure who’d recorded the song first, and I didn’t care. “Falling Slowly” by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova started, and I nearly cried. I wasn’t sure why, what the rush of emotions was about, but something about that song brought everything I’d been dealing with to the fore.
My pen started moving, and I let the well of words open.
FALLING INTO US
How do I resist the gentle need in your eyes?
I don’t
I can’t
Not when that same heartdeep, soulspearing desperation is rooted within me
Tendrils of sunhot want wrapping around my soul
Like ivy up a brick wall
God, your eyes
Greener than summer grass
Greener than moss and sunlit jade
Sharper than obsidian
Gentler than clouds and feathertouch
They burn into me when we kiss
They scorch me when I score your skin with trembling fingernails
And I know, I know, I know
All too well
Where all this is going
I’ve seen it happen in my dreams
I’ve seen it play out in the steam-wreathed privacy of my shower
Where I touch my hot, shivering flesh
And imagine it’s you
Wish it was you
It’s been you
But not like we both want
And that’s where it’s going
We’re dancing on the edge of a knife
And I want to fall over
With you
But I can’t help being a little afraid
Of the adulthood lying on the other side
I’m afraid of what we can’t take back
Of giving away that last piece of my girlhood
Even to you
And yeah, I know, I love you
And yeah, I know, you love me
But yeah, I know, we’re still just kids
We’re as close to junior high as we are college
As close to twelve as we are twenty
And I don’t want to regret a thing
God, I’m so confused
And the only time I’m sure of anything
Is when you’re kissing me
And then it’s all too easy to forget
Everything but the way I feel
The way you feel so close to me
And I can’t help wondering
If that’s the smartest time to make such decisions
Exactly because I get so lost
Because it feels so much like falling
Into love
Into you and me
Being in love is scary
So much like falling
A frightening descent into
Beautiful madness
Yes, you and me
We’re
Falling into Us
And I don’t dare stop the fall
Because I need it far too much
I put the pen down and leaned back in my desk chair, staring out the window at the thick fog of skirling snow, letting the surge of words subside. “Comes and Goes (In Waves)” by Greg Laswell played in my ears, and I was grateful that the words didn’t apply, didn’t seem to be tailored to my emotions. So often, the music I listened to fit into my life, seeming like a soundtrack to my soul. I usually loved that, chose songs and artists for that reason, but with the poetry still juddering in my veins, I needed music that was just music, just sonic beauty for its own sake.
A knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts. “Who is it?”
“Ben.”
“It’s not locked.” I closed the notebook and stuffed it into my purse.
Ben came in and flopped onto my bed like he so often did. He didn’t light up this time, thankfully. “So what’s up with you, Becca?”
I shrugged. “Homework, school, Jason.”
Ben grinned. “So what’s up with you and Mr. Football?”
I shot Ben a look. “We’re good. I like him.”
“You got Mom and Dad to let you see him openly, huh?”
I smiled. “Yeah, that was all him, honestly. We got caught, so Jason basically confronted Father and made him realize if he let us see each other, he’d have more semblance of control.”
“Pretty badass. Dad can be scary.”
I nodded. “Not much scares Jason.”
Ben eyed me quizzically. “You seem…better. Happy. You’re not stuttering at all.”
I shrugged, hiding a grin. “I am. I’m happy. Jason is awesome.”