Fuck!
"I'm celibate, Brian." Maria's voice was so quiet and calm that I almost missed what she said.
The air sucked out of the room as I froze to process her words. Maria's striking eyes glowered at me defiantly, her little chin lifted in challenge.
What?
"What?"
"I'm celibate," she repeated.
"Celibate?" I parroted.
She blew her breath out. "Yes. It means abstaining from sex," she slowly explained as if I were dense.
"Can I ask why?"
"You can, but you lost the right to know my reasons."
I flinched. Ouch.
Her eyes searched my face before she decided to take pity on me. "I'm choosing not to enter into a sexual relationship until it's committed and monogamous, and we're both working towards a permanent future," she softly explained. "Since I know you're not at that point in your life, this ends here for us."
My jaw worked as I stood there, unmoving. She was right. I knew she was. I wanted to be with Maria, but I was still unsure if I was ready for commitment. I raked my brain, trying to devise a solution, but I knew there was none.
None that made it fair to Maria, anyway.
"I - I don't know what to say."
She gave me a smile laced with sadness. "I need to lock up." She walked to the door, unlocked it, and held it open. "Goodbye, Brian."
Feeling numb, I walked like a zombie towards the open door. My mouth opened to say something, but there was nothing I could say. Before I knew it, I was out on the street, with Maria locking me back out.
This time, the air chilled me to the bone.
Chapter 15
Maria - 7 Years Old
FROM THE PRIVATE NOTES OF DR. ANNA MORRIS
My stomach gurgled again, and I pulled my legs up, wrapping my small arms around their skinny frame. Maybe if I squeezed my stomach hard enough it would stop hurting.
From the other side of the wall, a rhythmic squeak was picking up speed, and I grasped my ears with my palms, pressing deep.
I squeezed my eyes shut and imagined hot sausages, waffles with cream, warm bread rolls, and hot fries with a tall glass of soda.
Last year, at the end of school, we watchedThe Little Princess. Princess Sara and her friend had been starving, just like me, and pretended to eat a make-believe feast. The next morning, they woke to their room filled with real piping hot food. I tried to pretend that I was Sara. At least she had friends.Maybe if I wished hard enough, I'd wake up as Princess Sara, with a father who remembered me and would take me away.
I wasn't always hungry. Sometimes, mom would meet some guy who would buy us groceries for a few weeks. But then they would leave. They always left.
A loud moan came from mom's room, and then a man's shout. I knew not to disturb them. The first time I heard that sound, I ran to her room, scared that my mom was hurt. The scene confused me, and even more so when mom yelled at me and threw a can at my head.
The moans got louder and longer, and I squeezed my eyes tighter, pressing harder on my ears until the noise stopped.
"The trick to beach waves is to keep the ends straight. People tend to curl them all in the same direction without breaking them up. So then you're left with bent hair that look like drill bits. It doesnotlook cute unless you're in a kids' beauty pageant."
The young teen's shoulders sagged as she stared at me through the mirror. "That's where I've been going wrong."
