Young Annabelle Series: Young Annabelle, the Truth About James, What My Heart Wants (14 page)

I thought about it for a moment.

When I was packing my bag, grabbing the basic essentials, I had felt a rush of adrenaline pump through me as if the choice I was making was a big one.

One that made a statement.

I had walked out while they were scolding me, just like I had two weeks ago, but this time it was different. I’d had enough of their constant nagging about what I ate and how I looked. This time, I did something to show them that their actions were not okay: I had walked out without giving any information as to what I was going to do, where I was going, or when I was coming back. In a way, I had hoped it would remind them that my days as a teenager who had to listen to them were almost over.

The express train to adulthood was coming straight for me and, whether they liked it or not, that feeling of being able to decide what I wanted to do and when I wanted to do it wasn’t going to go away. In fact, it was only growing stronger each day. My attitude was definitely heading for a direction where I would finally feel in control.

“Yeah, that’s what it felt like. Sort of. But ‘runaway’ is more of a kid term. I’m going to be eighteen in April and, until then, I’m putting my foot down when it comes to doing things I don’t want to do.” I felt empowered by my words.

“That’s right. Do whatever the
hell you want to do,” He proclaimed then laughed into my arm.

I laughed a little too but stopped when James began to snuggle deeper into me, his body rubbing against mine.

Well, the deep chat ends here. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, staring down at his head.

“Enough talking,” he murmured.

“Oh yeah, then what are we going to do?” I asked, laughing.

“Oh, I can think of a few things…”

He got up and pushed himself off the bed. He stood at the edge of the bed and grabbed my feet. I stared at him in confusion as he pulled my legs. I slid down the headboard, my head hitting the pillow, and James lowered my legs back onto the bed.

“There you go, that’s better,” He exclaimed, climbing back over the bed to hover on top of me.

I just got manhandled!

I grinned as he pushed aside a strand of hair from my face.

“Much better,” H
e said softly as his fingers caressed my cheeks.

We gazed into each other eyes. My stomach began feeling soft and squishy. A warm, gooey hug squeezed my heart, sending waves of brand new feelings through my body.

Shit!

I think I’m going crazy!

Before I could say anything to stop the madness, he leaned in and planted his lips back on mine.

Oh!

Okay!

I was taken aback by the sensation his lips shot into my body. My body rejoiced happily at the return of his touch, as if it had been drowning and his lips were the life raft.

God!

I returned his kiss, moving my arms around his shoulders as his body sunk further into me.

*~*~*

I took out my phone and texted Mom:

Annabelle:
I had a nutritious lunch

A few minutes later…

Mom:
Thank You!!!!

I closed the message and tucked my phone back into my backpack. I had just left James’ house after an hour and a half of kissing and fondling.

I’d let him touch my boobs again, which made him think it was okay to pull my shirt back up but I’d stopped him immediately, telling him that I wasn’t comfortable with that part, that it was too soon. Although I had no problem with him being shirtless; his body was perfect, beautiful, and muscles galore. My hands began buzzing with sensation at the memory of the circles they had made over every inch of his naked chest.

That was nice…
I remembered each muscle my hand had grazed.

Unlike him, my body, especially my stomach, was nowhere near naked-ready. Even a small sliver of skin exposed made me nervous at what he would think or feel when his hand met the roundness of my skin.

But now that I had time to think about it, if I was a bit skinnier and my stomach was flatter, would I have let him lift up my shirt? Would I have let him pull the entire thing off? Would I have gone the whole way with him? I’d practically groped his entire body and let him do the same, and he wasn’t even my boyfriend nor was my body even close perfect.

Would I be more of a slut if I were skinny?

The thought horrified me.

Damn!

I would…I think I would have…probably…gone all the way…

I hugged myself, shocked at my own admission. It felt good, really good, kissing him. I didn’t mind when his
hand kept caressing my breasts. I had to control myself; my emotions were all over the place. With what happened this morning, then meeting James and ending up in his bed having a marathon kissing session, I’d better re-evaluate my decisions next time my mind was not in the right place.

The events that took place this morning had left me emotionally damaged, so much so that my brain had lost all logic. That was how I so easily let James take me to his bed and kiss the hell out of me while copping many feels.

It did feel nice though…No!
I shook my head. I had to snap out of this ‘feels nice’ thing. If things kept going at this pace with him, what would happen next time?

Because I was sure there was going to be a next time.

He definitely would want something more in our next meet up; he had taken his shirt off, lay across my body, and held on to me as if he wanted his body imprinted onto mine.

He probably expected the next time
to be my turn to be
au naturale
on top – with or without a bra, whatever floated my boat, as long as there was some major skin showing. In my case it was a lot of easily jiggle-able skin that needed the help and support of a structured shirt to keep it pushed back.

Oh my God, am I ever going to have a flat stomach? I wish I did!
I tormented myself for a few seconds but stopped when I realized what might potentially happen when I became more confident with how my body looked.

I’d become a big slut, sleeping with anything that would have me!

I shook my head at the exaggeration.

No! Not
everything that would have me, but probably – definitely – give James the green light to do his thing!

My phone beeped.

I paused on the sidewalk to grab my phone.

New Message from: Tiger!

James!
I was instantly excited at the sight of his name, even though I’d only left him twenty minutes ago.

I opened his message with a huge smile plastered across my face.

You are sucked in! Totally in deep!
I thought as his message popped up.

Tiger:
I wish u let me take u home…

Annabelle:
And I wish u wouldn’t text while driving to baseball practice!

James’ phone had rung while we were kissing. By that time, things had cooled off a little but were still going at a nice pace. He grudgingly got off me and checked the caller ID before answering.

“Yeah?” he answered curtly.

I heard a muffled voice from the other end.

“Oh, yeah, shit. Okay. See you in ten,” he said to the phone then hung up.

I rose up on my elbows and stared at him as he put his phone back on his side table.

“What happened?” I asked.

He let out a long sigh and turned to me. “Baseball practice was rescheduled for noon.”

“I thought it was canceled?”

“It was. Sort of. The assistant coach told everyone to be available around noon just in case it was rescheduled,” he explained, giving me a quick peck on the lips before grabbing his uniform shirt off the floor and pulling it back on.

“Okay,” I replied, getting off the bed.

Damn!
I thought, disappointed, as his beautiful body was sheathed again.

“I’ll drop you off at home,” he said as I reached to pick my backpack off the ground.

“No, that’s okay, I want to walk. Get some fresh air, you know.” I slid my bag over my shoulders as I explained.

I stretched my arms out and took a deep breath while he locked the front door. It felt like I’d been cooped up inside a musty, sweaty cave for God knows how long, but my phone said we’d been up there for less than two hours.

My phone beeped.

I checked the new message as I continued down the sidewalk.

Tiger:
Baby u care about my safety, I’m touched
.
Miss u, can’t wait to see u again!

He misses me!!
I gushed mentally.

My heart swelled with joy.

He missed me and couldn’t wait to see me again.

With an exclamation point!

What did that mean?

Did that mean next time would be even more exciting than the first time?

Shit!
His expectations of where we were going had jumped big time! I knew one thing for sure: as long as I was still in this body, with all its jiggly bits, there was no way anything was escalating, including his excitement.

Even if he missed me and couldn’t wait to see me.

New high!
I thought happily, planning to remember his words the next time he decided to piss me off by acting like the asshole version of himself.

Annabelle:
That’s sweet. Have a good practice

I pressed send and tucked my phone back into my bag. I didn’t want to see any more messages from him today.

It was enough. My body and mind couldn’t take anymore of him.

Okay, I was lying, my body wouldn’t mind taking a little more of him but that wasn’t the point. I needed to maintain some ground control when it came to him. I had to show him – and myself – that there were limits where he was concerned.

Even if I really,
really
didn’t want to.

*~*~*

I walked to Subway and grabbed a 6-inch whole-wheat turkey sub, no sauce, and heavy on the lettuce.

This is healthy,
I told myself as I bit into my sandwich.

It was around 1:30 pm when I went back home. Not because I wanted to, but because I had nothing to do and I didn’t want to spend any more money. I had to save every penny for when I could finally move out.

I unlocked the front door and walked inside. As I pulled off my shoes, I heard the familiar sound of excited footsteps rumble up the basement stairs.

“Annabelle? You’re home?” Mom called as she ran up the stairs.

“Yes,” I answered brusquely. I was still pissed at her for the stunt she pulled this morning and had no intention of letting her off easy.

“How was your morning?” S
he asked breathlessly as she walked over to me.

“It was fine,” I replied suspiciously.

“That’s good.” She was trying her best to be nonchalant. I wasn’t buying it. Her hands were shaking subtly next to her thigh.

“Alright, well I’m going to my room,” I announced as I took a step towards the stairs.

“Wait!” Mom blurted out.

I turned to face her. “Yes?”

“I understand that this morning I may have gone a little too far with the scale thing,” she conceded. “From now on your weigh-in time is yours, privately. Indefinitely.” She actually looked a little sorry.

“Thank you.” I took another step towards the stairs.

“Wait!” 

I turned around again. “What is it now, Mom? Is there something you want?” I asked, beginning to feel a bit irritated. I really wanted to go upstairs, change into my home clothes, relax on my own bed, and imagine new scenes on my ceiling.

“Do your old mom a favor and tell her what you ate for lunch? Pretty please?”

I let out a long breath and answered as calmly as I could. “I had Subway. A 6-inch whole-wheat turkey sub. No sauce. Lots of lettuce.”

She nodded happily, clapping her hands. “Excellent choice, I’m so proud of you!”

“Anything else you’d like to know before I go upstairs?” I asked hesitantly.

“Actually, yes.” Mom looked at me warily, like I was a wild animal about to escape. “How many calories have you burned ’til now?” she asked cautiously.

I felt a small touch of anger stir in my throat, itching to yell at her, to give her a piece of my mind about this stupid daily calorie burn I was forced to complete or else feel the wrath of her disappointment. I was practically an adult and did not need to prove myself by how many calories I could burn a day. But my comfortable and very private room was within my grasp; all I had to do to get there was answer this one question. I glanced down at my calorie-burn watch and grinned widely.