For about three weeks, Justin and I dated.  He got jealous often, but I always soothed his temper.  Stupidly, I excused his behavior as passion, despite the fact that I condemned Ruben and other men for similar behavior.  Ruben ignored me the whole time I dated Justin.  I think that was one reason I kept seeing Justin.  I liked Ruben ignoring me.  The final week before Summer returned ended up being the final week for my “summer romance.” 

After a week of dating, Justin and I had begun seeing each other on private dates that usually led to us kissing.  Didn’t matter where.  Movies theaters, his car, restaurants, parks.   His kisses tended to be heavy and wet, but I liked him so much I didn’t care that I didn’t really like kissing him.  After two weeks he told me he loved me.  I didn’t reciprocate his feelings, yet Justin interpreted my stunned silence as mutual feelings.  By week three the whirlwind romance began to wear off for me.  I found him to be needy and dominating, always pushing for more and more physical intimacy.  I just wasn’t ready to take the next step physically.  Every time he tried to touch my breasts or between my legs, I would grab his hands and stop him.  It frustrated him and made me nervous. 

Maria and Kristy had come to accept Justin.  They never spoke ill against him until after we broke up.  Then they told me how they really felt. 

“He was a jerk and super controlling,” Maria told me a few days after Justin and I ended. “I thought you’d have enough of that from the soldiers in school.”

“He just wasn’t good enough for you,” Kristy said kindly. 

Of course, I didn’t learn this until after the breakup.  The final date happened on a Saturday night.  I slipped out after making dinner for the men.  It surprised me that no one ever stopped me or asked about where I was going when I went out with Justin.  They would say nothing to me as I left the house in a cute outfit, dressed to impress.  That night I wore a short black skirt with white stitching and a stretchy blue tank top.  Since Justin and I were only going to the movies, I wore sandals, seeing no point in high heels if we were to be sitting in a car all night.  About five years earlier drive-in movies had become popular again.  They allowed customers to enjoy the night sky and the outdoors while obtaining more privacy than a regular theater provided. 

Justin picked me up in his father’s new Audi, a car that Justin treated like a child.  He wouldn’t allow me to put my feet up on the dash or draw on the windows when they fogged up.  The boy was terrified of dirtying or putting a scratch on his father’s car. Slipping into the car, I gave Justin a peck on the lips before he drove off.  Holding hands as he drove, we talked about our days and plans for the evening.  We ate a small food truck and then went to the movies.  Honestly, I don’t recall what movie was playing, but I guess it’s not really important. Once the movie began, Justin started his routine. Skillfully, but obviously, he would slide an arm around me and pull me close.  Then he would nuzzle my neck, kissing it gently.  After a while, he would turn my face towards his and kiss me.  That would begin the hours of kissing that comprised most of our relationship. 

As was usual after about twenty minutes of kissing, Justin started to let his hands wander.  I would push them away or hold them, squeezing so he understood I meant no.  Yet that night he was more aggressive than normal. Leaning over me, Justin laid on top of me, my back pressed into the passenger door.  The position was awkward, and I found it difficult to maneuver under him.  While his kissing remained the same sloppy mess it always was, his hands grabbed for my breasts with more strength.  It became harder and harder to push them away.

“Come on, Eri,” he moaned.

His lips were close to mine as he spoke, pleading in his voice.

“I love you,” he said.  “I just want to be within every possible way.  Is that so wrong?”

“No,” I said.

My stomach tightened.  We had had this argument before.

“But I’m not ready,” I continued.

“But I love you.”

“I know, but I’m still not ready.”

Instead of pouting as he had before, Justin kissed me again.  For a few minutes his hands behaved, but then I felt them on my legs.  Twitching, I tried to close my legs, but his weight made it impossible.  His right-hand slip under my skirt and caressed my lace underwear.  I had worn it to make myself feel sexy, but I did not plan on Justin seeing or feeling it.

“Sexy,” he whispered.

Quickly my hands pulled at his arm, but I couldn’t budge him. Normally it wasn’t a problem.  Justin was nowhere near as strong as the men and so I could stop his attempts.  Unfortunately, with Justin squishing me to the seat and door with his body, I didn’t have the room to push or pull effectively. 

“Justin,” I said, fear skittering my stomach.

“Yes, Eri,” he groaned.

Two of his fingers looped around the waist of my underwear.  Panic began to bubble in my chest. Pushing as best I could, I stopped kissing him.  Justin didn’t notice as he kissed my ear, neck, and collar bone.  All I could think was no! 

“Justin, stop,” I gasped.

“Why?  You will like it.  Just trust me.”

“I said no!”

“Eri, just relax.  I will make you feel good.”

“I said no, Justin!”

Releasing his arm, I pushed his face back.  Justin’s grip tightened on my underwear and his free hand grabbed my chest.  Grunting he pulled and squeezed at the same time.  Angrily, I pushed his head back harder.

“Eri, stop being such a stubborn bitch!” he snapped. “You will like it!  So stop!”

Going cold, I froze for a moment.  The sound of my tearing underwear brought me back to reality with a hard thump.  Without thinking, I slapped Justin hard across the face, angry tears popping out of my eyes.  Stunned, Justin stopped.  Blinking stupidly, he just looked at me.

“Don’t you ever call me a bitch!” I growled.  “You will show me so goddamn respect, Justin.”

“Well, you are acting like a prude!  What is the big deal?  We have been dating for three weeks and I told you that I loved you!” he snapped back, his fingers grabbing my shirt collar.

Prying his fingers back, I broke his grip, adding more pressure than I had in the past.  I wanted to hurt him, just a little.  Flinching, Justin pulled back both hands.  Straightening my skirt, I grabbed my sandals, still crying.

“What are you doing?” he asked bitterly.

“I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?  We are at the drive-in at least thirty minutes from your house.  How are you going to get home?”

“I don’t know.  I’ll call a cab or something.  I just know I’m not going home with you.”

“Eri, you are being ridiculous.”

Smiling patronizingly, Justin reached out to stroke my hair.  Slapping his hand away, I glared at him.  Holding his hands up in defeat, he grinned at me, that same stupid, cocky grin.

“I’m sorry, okay?  Is that what you want to hear?  I got carried away.  Don’t be stupid though.  Just settle down.  We’ll finish the movie and I’ll drive you home.”

“Now I’m stupid?  First I’m a bitch and now I’m stupid?” my voice sounded shrill in my ears.

“You are acting stupid.  I didn’t say you were stupid.  Don’t put words in my mouth.”

Wrenching the car door open, I swung my legs out and stood up, the ground warm under my feet despite the late hour.  Leaning over, Justin stared at me in disbelief.

“Eri!  Get back in the car.”

“No!  I will get home on my own.”

Losing his temper, Justin frowned.

“If you don’t get back in this car now, I’m going to leave you here and we will be over!”

“We are already over!”

Red in the face, I screamed my response to him.  A few people in near bye cars looked but quickly averted their eyes.  Storming off, I heard him start his car and then tear out of the parking spot.  Crying, but trying to appear strong, I marched off, looking for the concession stand where I could safely make a call for Kristy or Maria, anyone to come and get me.  My hands gripped my sandals and phone tightly.  How could I have been so stupid to think Justin actually cared about me?  What was wrong with me that I found a guy almost as bad, maybe even worse than the Reformers?