"I'll see you later, darlin'." Cole lets go of my hand as we pull up to the front of my house.

"Mhm." I force a smile as he leans forward to kiss my forehead.

"Tell your mama I said 'hi'," he tells me as I open the passenger side door and step out.

Or, you could do it yourself.

I nod. "I will." I probably won't. "See you at school tomorrow."

Trying to close the door as gently as possible, I get all the way out of the truck. Between my legs is sore. It hurts to step out of the car and walk up the path that leads to the front door.

Not wanting to draw attention from Cole or my family when I walk in, I attempt to walk normally. Never had I heard or read from anywhere that talks about not being able to walk properly after your first time.

Also, on top of that, I feel a strange sensation in my belly. It's a dull and aching pain.

From behind me, I can hear him drive off down the street. Relief washes over me. Walking slowly to the front door, I keep my mind on trivial stuff so I am not able to dwell on my pain.

My eyes water, but I don't let it continue. I pinch my wrist until I reach the front door and the wound is tomato red.

The door opens before I even pull my keys from my purse.

"Where were you?" my mom stands there with her arms crossed.

The laugh lines on her face are the only thing that reveals her age. One of the only reasons I appreciate my bloodline. The women on my mom's side of the family age at a really slow pace.

Her evergreen shade eyes burn into me.

I'm so not in the mood for you, mom.

Walking in past her, I head straight for the kitchen. "I was with Cole and some friends."

"Whatever," my fifteen-year-old brother, Jeremiah, cuts in. "You only have one friend here and she wouldn't be caught dead hanging out with those 'southern belles' Cole and his friends hang around." he walks past me and laughs. "I bet she was somewhere making out with him."

My heart thuds one good time and my throat dries.

In the kitchen, I grab a can of soda. "Butt out, turd breath." I pop it open and chug till the fizz and caffeine burns my oesophagus.

"Oh my God, Christina." my mom pulls at the back of my skirt. "Where did this blood come from?"

A small patch of red stains the back of my yellow skirt. I stare at it horrified.

Shit, shit, SHIT! Why is there so much blood?

When I got up from where I was lying down in the back of Cole's truck, there was a blood stain the size of my fist. My heart sank and I wondered if that was why it hurt so much. The only thing I could do was tell Cole I would take the sheets home and clean them. But, he shook it off and said he would get his sister to do it. He told me he would tell her that the blood came from a squirrel that he hit and buried.

That sounded ridiculous, but I didn't want to go back and forth with him. I was already traumatised at how much there was.

"What's going on in here?" Tom trudges down the stairs. He must have been in his office working on something because his hair is a terrible mess and he's wearing sweats and reading glasses. Normal authors these days use computers or laptops to write their rough drafts, but not Tom. Tom uses a typewriter like the one used by Edgar Allen Poe. "Oh, Chris is back?"

"Tommy," I hate when she calls him that. "Look at this blood stain."

"Ouch," he says rubbing his eyes. "That's gonna be a bitch to clean."

I roll my eyes and yank the fabric from my mom's hands. "It's nothing, I probably just started my period or something." I push past Tom and head to my room. "Don't worry, if the stain doesn't come out, I'll just burn the skirt." sad because it's my favourite.

"Might wanna burn the rest of your clothes, too." Jeremiah jokes. "Your wardrobe is an eyesore."

I halt at the top of the stairs. "Your face is an eyesore, Jer Bear." it's really not. My younger brother is actually pretty good looking according to anyone's standards. I just say that to annoy him and because I know it's sappy and I can't think of anything else, I use his hated nickname.

"Fuck you, Chris." he retorts.

Laughing I walk away while my mom tells him to put a dollar in the swear jar.

When I get to my room, I open the door and close it very slowly behind me. What is left of my soda can't be more than two swallows. I drink the rest of it and throw the can in the trash. This town doesn't have a recycling system. If you want to recycle stuff, you have to pack it all up and drive for like an hour to get to the city.

Slowly, I take off my clothes. I really, really want to take a shower, but I have no energy left. I'll just have to settle with stripping down and changing my underwear and taking a shower tomorrow morning.

The stain on my skirt is a really dark red. It's almost dry. Blankly, I think about Cole's truck.

Did I get a stain on his seat?

I wonder if his sister believes that story.

I've met her once, and she seemed like a pretty okay girl. I mean, she's nice and everything, but she smiles way too much. It doesn't feel real.

Slipping off my panties, I avoid looking at them so that I can't see the blood on them. When I'm done, I wrap them up in my skirt and throw them both in my dirty clothes bin. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to pull them out and wash them, but for now, I'd rather just put them away and forget about them.

Why was there so much blood?!

Whenever I read about girls losing their virginity, there was usually only like a spot of blood or maybe a small circle, but mine was the size of my fist and that scared me, My privates still hurt and I remember how painful it was while he was moving inside me. The thoughts make me shudder.

Maybe it'll be better next time? The second time doesn't hurt... at least, it's not supposed to.

"Chris, can I come in?" my mom's voice resounds from the other side of my door.

I'm standing here in just a bra. Making a beeline for my dresser, I grab a gown and a pair of granny panties.

Pulling them on, I clear my throat."Come on in, mom!" I almost trip getting into the underwear.

She walks in dressed in her pyjamas. "Honey, can you do me a favour?" I know exactly what that favour is.

I walk over to my bed and lie down, before holding up the comforter, inviting her in. "I'm fine with it, but you need to let Tom know that you need him to come to bed. I'm not going to be here for much longer and I know that you don't want to sleep with Jer Bear in there."

The projects my brother does in any room he gets always makes the place either smell like a morgue or a dusty old science lab. He has to keep the room door closed whether he is in there or not.

"Thank you, honey. I promise I'll try not to bother you anymore." she slips in next to me and faces me.

"You're not a bother, mom," I tell her, trying to discreetly lie on my stomach. Lying on my side hurts way too much. "I love you, and I just worry about you sometimes."

"That's my line." she chuckles. "Goodnight, honey. I love you."

"Goodnight, mom," I say pushing the button on my nightstand that turns off the lamp sitting on it. "Don't let the bed bugs bite."