According To Jane Part 17

A moment later, we heard the telltale scratching of the hotel room's door lock and the hushed giggles of Nate and Sabrina. Oh, h.e.l.l. Now what?

See? Jane said, all but gloating. For a split second I wondered at the extent of her powers here on earth. Could she have been responsible for compelling Nate and Sabrina back to the room?

Didn't matter, I decided, as Jason sat upright in panic. I had a plan. I grabbed two pillows off the bed and motioned for him to follow me. Into the closet.

"Quick thinking," he said appreciatively. He pulled on the door until it was almost closed.

"Uh, Ellie? Are you here?" Sabrina's voice called out.

I took a deep breath. "Yep."

We heard Nate chuckle. "Jason around anywhere?" he asked. "Or did you ditch him downstairs?"

"Present," Jason said, his tone sharp.

Nate laughed a bit louder. "Alrighty then. So, are we, uh, all locked in for the night?"

I looked at Jason. He nodded. "Yeah," I said. "You two?"

There was a pause then Sabrina answered, "Yes."

"Goodnight, then," Jason said. "And, Nate, stay the h.e.l.l out of here." He tugged on the doork.n.o.b until the closet door clicked in emphasis.

Jason and I didn't move for a few long moments. We stood next to each other, the odor of vodka pervading my senses and the cool air dancing against my bare chest.

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw Jason's shadowy figure stirring. He removed his tux jacket and dress s.h.i.+rt and pulled a bunch of small squares out of his pocket. "Trojans," he whispered.

I nodded and hoped he could see me because, suddenly, my throat was too parched for speech.

Jane tried one more time to reason with me. Ellie, you can still stop this- I know, I told her. Then I locked her out of my conscious mind. Before that night I'd never wanted to block her from my thoughts, but if ever there was a time to do it, this was it.

Jason dug into his jacket pocket and then pressed a plastic soda bottle into my hands. "I also brought us this."

I squinted to read the writing. "7Up?" I rasped out.

"Um, no," he said.

I unscrewed the cap and a new alcoholic aroma wafted up to me.

"Some of Matt's Everclear," he said. "I know you said you didn't want any more to drink, but in case you changed your mind and did want some."

I already had the bottle to my lips and was in the midst of a long swig. Yeah, I'd changed my mind all right. Fire burned down my throat, but at least I could speak freely again.

"Thanks," I said as I dabbed my mouth with the back of my wrist and returned the bottle to him.

Jason leaned in to kiss my forehead before guzzling several swallows of the stuff. Amazing the guy was still conscious after all the liquor he'd consumed in the past few hours. I'd had only a fraction as much, but I could sure feel it taking effect.

We heard Nate and Sabrina's moans on the other side of the door. The closet afforded only so much privacy.

After listening for a sec, Jason shoved his belongings to one side and positioned the pillows on the floor. We'd spotted an extra blanket stashed in the closet, so he put that on the carpet, too, patted it and whispered, "C'mere, Ellie."

I peeled off the rest of my dress, kicked off my pumps and joined him on the floor. He slid his palm down my body, a slow glide starting at the curve of my shoulders and snaking past my waist to my hips. His fingers came to rest on my thigh.

"You feel really great," he said, his voice a hoa.r.s.e whisper in the darkness. He pushed his body next to mine, squeezing me to him in a straightjacket hold. His belt buckle stabbed my stomach, and I had to pull away.

"Can you get rid of that?" I whispered, tugging on his belt.

Jason, obviously interpreting this request as my uncontrolled eagerness, kissed me hard and said with enthusiasm, "Totally!"

He shed the rest of his clothes, placed his fingers on top of mine and slid my hand right to the hard part. "Here," he said, stroking upward. He moved my fingers over him, and I felt his p.e.n.i.s jump. "Like that."

So I did it again.

"Oh, baby, yes."

And again, about ten more times, marveling all the while at my control over him.

Jason became increasingly less coherent. He mumbled some words I couldn't catch, pumped his hips toward me and, finally, shoved my hand away, breathing hard. In one stunningly swift movement, he tore off his briefs and grabbed at the Trojan squares.

"You-your p-p-panties," he said in my ear.

"What about them?" I watched him, in an oddly detached way, as he fumbled with a condom.

"Off."

But before I could do that, he'd gotten the Trojan on and had both hands squeezing the edges of my lace-trimmed panties. With absolutely no attempt at finesse, he dragged them down my legs and whipped them off. A second later, he had me on my back with his hands between my thighs and his tall body poised above me.

"Oh, G.o.d," he groaned, pus.h.i.+ng my legs further apart and sticking a couple of fingers into the sensitive area between them. I was dry, so let's just say this was less than comfortable. "I'll make it good for you, Ellie."

He poked and prodded at the soft flesh there, reminding me of the unpleasantness of that gynecological exam Mom made Di and me go to once. I swallowed and tried to relax. In no way did that work.

I felt the sharp jab of a fingernail against my inner wall and gasped. Jason increased his poking until the discomfort was too much for me to take.

"Stop," I whispered, batting at his hand.

"Too intense for you, too?" he said, grinning. "I know. I can't wait anymore either."

Without giving me a chance to correct his latest misperception, he shackled my wrists above my head with his hands, constricting my circulation. His mouth latched onto mine and the force of his body plunged on top of me.

I writhed beneath him, trying to loosen his grip. His hands relaxed a fraction, but his hips crushed mine and his erection pressed tight against my opening.

"Jason," I managed to say. "Slow down-" I was feeling a little warmer at my core now that he'd removed his fingers, but I was nowhere close to catching up with him.

"I'm so hot for you." He pumped his hips again, the tip of his p.e.n.i.s sliding just barely inside me.

Then a peculiar thing happened. Jason's face contorted strangely, and he arched his back and pushed, moaning all the while. Only, his erection popped out of my body and, instead of bursting through my virginal wall, it slithered between my legs. I suspected he didn't notice.

After a few additional moans, he collapsed against me and hugged me tight. "You're so amazing, Ellie," he mumbled in my ear before falling to the blanket with a thump.

"Um, thanks."

I paused, waiting for him to acknowledge that what he'd planned on happening didn't, in fact, happen. But there was nothing. Not a sound out of him.

I nudged his shoulder. "Jason?"

"Mmm?" He swiveled slightly toward me and glanced at my face with a sleepy, half-glazed-over smile. "So sweet," he murmured.

"Do you need to do anything else?" I hinted.

"Hmm," he sighed. "Don't think so." There was a pause. "Go to the bathroom, maybe." He looked down at his limp condom and tugged it off. "But I'm too tired."

"Oh."

"Thanks, Ellie. You were great." Thirty seconds later he was snoring softly.

I shut my eyes and, if my soul hadn't ached so much, I would've laughed. I remembered something Jane once said: "The power of doing anything with quickness is always much prized by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance." Truer words.

Please, I thought, tell me all guys aren't this stupid. Or this incompetent. Are they? Without thinking, I opened my mind up to Jane again and asked her this same question.

After a few huffs, she answered tartly, I would like to think not. You, however, have been remarkably foolish. Get dressed.

For once I didn't argue with her. I slipped my clothes back on and positioned myself on my pillow, my head five inches from Jason's. I didn't touch him, though.

Nate and Sabrina were still going at it on the other side of the closet door, having a more mutually good time. I felt a pang of envy and brushed away a tear that wouldn't go away on its own.

This couldn't possibly count as my first time, could it? If so, s.e.x really sucked. I hugged myself and tried to keep from clenching my jaw.

Take care, Ellie, Jane whispered in the moments before I finally fell asleep, her tone the comforting voice of a caring elder. A mistake was made this one time, but you need not reproach yourself forever. You shall recover from this hurt, she promised me. I shall help you.

The next morning I awoke, in the closet, amidst a sea of scattered belongings: high-heeled shoes, hairclips, Jason's discarded clothing, the empty 7Up bottle still reeking of Everclear, used and unused Trojans, my ruined reputation...you know, the usual post-prom wreckage.

I brushed myself off, tried to stretch the kink out of my neck and opened the closet door to slip into the bathroom just as Terrie and Krista snuck into our room.

"Morning," I whispered, since the others were still asleep.

Krista gave me a good once-over and giggled. Terrie grinned and said, "Congrats, El! The first time's really exciting, huh?"

I caught my reflection in the room mirror and gasped before I could stop myself. I looked flushed. Tousled. Like I should've been auditioning for the role of Streetwalker/Chorus Girl in Pat Benatar's "Love Is A Battlefield" video. I opened my mouth to explain, but just then Jason emerged from the depths of the closet.

"Mornin', ladies," he said, kissing the top of my matted hair. "You look sweet today, El," he whispered to me before sauntering into the bathroom with a blanket wrapped around his waist, a saucy smile on his lips and a prideful gleam in his eye.

Terrie winked knowingly. "Wow, you got yourself a gentleman."

Appearances can be QUITE deceiving, Jane inserted.

"Uh, yeah," I murmured, more to Jane than to my friend.

"Glad you two had fun," Terrie said before waking up Sabrina.

And so the day began.

A little over an hour later, we entered the restaurant for the Morning-After Breakfast. Jason slung that proprietary arm around my shoulders and, again, pecked the top of my head with a kiss. He caressed my arm slowly with a fingertip and, I swear, gave off some kind of I-Just-Had-s.e.x-With-A-Virgin pheromone.

Heads turned. The overt signs of our familiarity were not lost on anyone. Peers, who'd been too self-absorbed to care during Prom-Day One, now watched us with real scrutiny.

I was tempted to give Jason a good hard shove and announce to the crowd that Jason Bertignoli didn't know how to satisfy a woman, or even know what he'd done (or hadn't done) the night before. But, of course, a Good Girl wouldn't blow the charade, so I didn't.

Amanda was whispering something to Sam as we walked pa.s.sed the long table where they sat. He nodded at her, but he turned his eyes toward Jason and me. An expression, somewhere between a glower and a grimace, flashed across his face. A moment later it was gone, and so were we. The waitress seated us in another room.

As we waited for our food, the guys debated the instruments they wanted to "play" for the upcoming Air Band Bash. Matt proposed they take on a Guns N' Roses song, and Nate said, "Hey, the girls could be back-up singers and-"

"For GNR?" Steve laughed. "Nah, man, I don't think so."

"What if we did Robert Palmer's new one, 'Addicted to Love'?" Jason suggested. "Our girls could dress up in short skirts, wear s.h.i.+ny red lipstick and pretend to play guitars behind us."

"Awesome!" Matt said.

Nate nodded.

Steve smirked and said, "Now that's an image I like."

I thought, Our girls? Shoot me now.

Jason gave me a warm, lingering look, which should've brought a feeling of relief after our embarra.s.sing night in the closet. Maybe I was the only one who was embarra.s.sed, though. Jason, by contrast, looked exultant, and the other three couples seemed closer this morning. More relaxed with each other.

I felt strangely disconnected from all of them and more exposed in jeans and a tucked-in T-s.h.i.+rt than I had that morning in my crinkled, half-on/half-off prom dress.

I forced a smile and said, "Thanks for my share of the invitation, but I'm not into performing onstage."

Merely into acting everywhere else, Jane chimed in.

I took a long, slow sip of ice water, hoping it wouldn't add to the chill running through my veins.

Terrie and Sabrina begged off the project, too, but Krista really got into it. She giggled and announced, "I have lots of short skirts." Steve raised an eyebrow at that and began giving her air-band pointers.

As Terrie and her sister worked on getting their stories straight for the upcoming parental inquisition, I sat back, watching it all with a painful vulnerability churning in my stomach that I wanted and needed to squelch. Soon. And with a lack of s.e.xual satisfaction too intense to verbalize, even to Jane. (Although, certainly, she'd guessed.) And with a sheer determination never, ever to feel this indifferent toward making love again.

I gritted my teeth and stabbed at my French toast.

Next time, I promised myself, I'd get it right because next time I'd choose the guy, not let him choose me.

8.