I leave to go to the bathroom and then come back to the cabin. The leaves sifted the moonlight, throwing patterns on the forest floor.  Everyone was in shadow, under the patio roof.  It was so dark under there that I was disoriented, even without help of the beer.

I walked up to this figure in the dark.  I was less than a foot away before I recognized him.  So I snaked my arm around his waist and gave him a hug, nuzzling in his neck.  After a few minutes, he leaned down and kissed me.  I was the one that started it though.  I don’t think he even wanted to kiss me.  I was the one that was all over him.

We stumbled back to the tents together.  My best friend saw us leave and called out to me, asking if I was okay.  I laughed and shouted out that I was fine.  I was buzzing just enough that the world was spinning. The stars were whirling, dancing with the ground.

It was cold.  So cold.  But when we got back, the tent was warm as a familiar chest.  I didn’t mind him taking my clothes off; I loved him, you know?  But then he lay on top of me, holding my arms down.  I could feel every stone and twig through the thin floor of the tent.  That was okay too, he wasn’t hurting me or anything.  I mean, yeah, I was a little uncomfortable, but it wasn’t a big deal.  Then he pried my thighs apart with his knees.

It was my fault anyway.  I should have just got up and left.  But I was happy he wanted me at least.

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  So I turned over.  My face resting on a sodden pillow.  

I didn’t mind.  I never had.  But he was so rough, so impersonal, I couldn’t stand it.  He must have noticed something.  I’ll only stop if it hurts, he said. Does it?

I shook my head, being honest.

What was that? he asked, breathing on my neck.

When I thought about it for a moment, I realized that I didn’t want to do it.  Even though I loved him and the only thing I wanted was for him to love me again, you know? It didn’t hurt, it’s just the way he was touching me was so… I don’t know, like he just didn’t give a shit.  I took the easy way out and lied.  I whispered Yes, that it did hurt.  I felt bad about lying to him.  I mean, at least he asked.  And he stopped when I told him it hurt.  A lot of guys wouldn’t have asked.  And they wouldn’t have stopped.    

He lay down on his back beside me.  I was afraid that I had pissed him off, but I had to go to the bathroom.  So I got up to leave, crawling on my hands and knees.  Naked.  I didn’t care, I just wanted to get out.  I tried to open the tent door but the zipper was stuck.  He reached out to grab me – his palm was sweaty when it cupped my bare ankle and pulled me towards him.

I felt guilty for saying no to him.  I didn’t want him to think I was a tease or anything.  So I compensated.

He let me.

His fingers tangled in my hair, yanking painfully.

Does it even matter to you that it’s me? I asked afterward.  Would it be the same with some random girl?

Silence.

I still can’t 
believe that.

I remember it so well.  
Every detail impressed upon my memory like flowers trapped between the pages of a book. 

His toes made an odd popping noise when I cracked them.

The wheels thumped softly on the road as I watched everyone else sleeping on the bus, on our way there.

The leaves sifted the moonlight, throwing patterns on the forest floor.

I could feel every stone and twig through the thin floor of the tent.
         
It stabbed me to see him kissing my friend outside of math class. They scuttled into their classrooms when they spied me.