Chapter 15 Eden
Eden
Ifeel like we walked in on something. Sloane and Jenna are sitting right next to each other, and there’s no hissing or growling from my sibling. Weird.
Sloane gives me a wink. I’m not sure what it’s supposed to mean.
The fact she is so close to Lucifer and isn’t burned to a crisp is interesting.
Jenna’s fuse is at an all-time low at the minute.
None of us have been able to get within ten feet of her lately without a full meltdown or screaming match.
Mealtimes are the only safe space, and that’s because we’re all too busy munching to really pester her.
That’s what she calls her family taking an interest in her day, fyi.
I go to ask what they’ve been talking about, but Sloane subtly shakes her head. Mum and Dad haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. They’re too busy bickering over what music to put on.
Jenna watches them and rolls her eyes before leaving the room without a word. Oddly, Sloane stands up, pecks me on the cheek and follows my sister out. Yeah, I’ve definitely missed something.
Ten minutes later, Sloane comes back into the living room. She’s got her paint-stained clothes bundled up in her arms and a small smile on her face.
“Hey, are you leaving?”
I was hoping to whisk her up to my room for a little while. Maybe do a little bit of that exploring we touched on earlier.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. Mom messaged. Becca’s in my room crying.”
“Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. I think I know what it’s about, but I can’t be one hundred percent. I’m sorry,” she says quietly.
Looking over my shoulder, I catch my parents not so subtly watching us. Rolling my eyes, I walk Sloane to the front door. I’d like just two minutes of privacy.
Pulling her to me by the hips, I brush our noses together. “Will you let me know when you get home?”
“Of course. I’m really sorry to be running out like this. I was kinda hoping we’d spend a little more time together…alone.”
Yeah, you and me both, darling.
“Me too, but it’s cool. Becca needs you.” Then I remember Jenna. “Something I should know about you and my sister?”
She grins. “Just some girl talk. Nothing to worry about.”
Girl talk? That seems like something I absolutely should be worried about.
Even though Sloane clearly needs to get home, we spend a few minutes snogging. The feel of her mouth on mine is quickly becoming an addiction.
I have Sloane pinned against the front door. I now have an ache in a place that will require some attention before the night is out. I may not be ready for sex with another person, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to sort myself out. I popped that cherry a few years ago.
“Jesus, Eden,” she whimpers. I didn’t realise I was rolling my hips. I’m mortified. We’re in the hallway of my house, with my parents just a door away.
“I think I just found another boundary I’m okay with,” I pant.
Sloane breathes heavily through her nose and licks her lips. “Okay, I need you to back away from me. Like six feet. Then I’m going to leave.”
“Okay.” But I don’t move. I feel rooted to the spot.
“Eden. Baby.” Her voice is almost pleading.
Shitballs. I’m so turned on. Maybe I’m the one who needs to chill out. Sloane was at my door earlier, apologising for pushing me, and yet I’m the one whose thoughts can’t climb out of the gutter. Am I the one that is making our relationship all about sex?
That’s something to work through later.
Gritting my teeth, I do as she says and take several steps back. “Text me.”
Nodding, Sloane edges away from the door and, with what looks like a lot of effort, turns away and leaves.
With how my body is reacting, it must seem weird that I don’t want to go all the way with Sloane just yet.
It’s not that I don’t want to have sex. I do.
It’s just for me, taking that step, being vulnerable like that with someone, is a big ask.
I want it to mean more than just the act.
It’s another facet of my character. Pia thinks it’s from the Dark Ages.
Waiting to have sex with someone you care for isn’t the cool thing, apparently.
Although we both know she and Todd waited until they were serious.
Also, I want to feel a little more confident.
I know my body, but navigating Sloane’s is still new.
I don’t want our first time to be shit. There’s only so much you can learn from TV.
Sloane and I have been together for a few days, although I think the time spent pining means we’re moving at warp speed.
It’s like everything feels so much more when we are together than it would be with someone brand new.
Ugh, whatever. It’ll happen when it happens, I guess.
Setting boundaries has helped. It’s like we’re playing a game, conquering one level at a time until we get to the boss match.
That’s Sloane and me getting it on for real.
I feel like I’m waffling now.
Huffing, I head for my studio. I need to paint away some frustration before masturbating away the rest.
It’s close to midnight by the time I finish. Instead of painting, I ended up sketching Sloane. It needs a few more hours before it’s done, but it’s not bad. I like being able to look at her pretty face whenever I want. Does that sound a bit stalker-y?
Jenna’s bedroom light is still on when I go upstairs. She’s usually out like a light by this time. I want to knock on her door and ask if she’s okay, but all I’ll get is a barrage of abuse so I don’t bother. I will, however, ask Sloane tomorrow what their convo was about.
Speaking of the golden-haired beauty, she sent me a message when she got home.
I answered but never received a reply. My smile grows when I see a waiting text from her.
It quickly disappears when I read it, though.
Sloane is cancelling our morning walk. She doesn’t say why, just that she needs to spend some time with Becca.
I hope everything is good. Like Sloane, I have an inkling I know what Becca is struggling with. I think it’s a tiny pink-haired powerhouse called Bella.
Tomorrow I’ll make sure to grab some time with her. Bella is the friend that will keep things to herself. She always prioritises everyone else before herself, so if there is something going on between her and Becca she’ll lock it away.
After a quick shower, I say goodnight to Sloane and slip into bed.
It’s a no-gym day. In my life pre–Sloane I would’ve been on top of the fucking world knowing I didn’t have to interact with Mr Ass Hat. Today, however, I’m not so pleased, simply because it means I have to carve out some of my personal time to complete the next app session.
My choices are as follows: climb out of bed now and do it, or wait until after school. If I wait until after school, it means I either have to spend less time with Sloane, or she does it with me and I end up sweaty and gross around her.
Even though the sun is rising, it’s still pretty dark out. I bet it’s cold too. Ugh, fuck my life. I didn’t get enough sleep to deal with such decisions. It was close to 1 a.m. by the time I’d relieved myself enough to fall asleep.
Now my mind is protesting at the thought of dragging my ass around the block. Not just my mind. My body doesn’t seem keen either. I bet Sloane would jump at the chance to go for a jog or something similarly hideous at the butt crack of dawn.
How are we dating?
The thought brings a smile to my face and finally gives me the kick up the arse to throw the covers back and fall out of bed.
My gym gear is on my desk chair, waiting.
I put it there on purpose, knowing that if I didn’t shove it in my face I’d find an excuse not to wear it.
Walking/jogging in Doc Martens isn’t an option.
I suppose the one upside to it being on the dark side this morning is there’s less chance people I know will recognise me on the street.
The reason I dislike gym wear so much is because it’s so tight.
Now, I know I wear skinny jeans. But leisure gear takes it to another level.
Especially the top half. I like wearing baggy hoodies for a reason.
I might look like a beanpole, but I’m a beanpole with boobs.
Maybe if I had more definition or shape I wouldn’t be so conscious of them, but I’m neither of those things.
My tits were the only things that developed on me.
Muscle certainly didn’t. It’s a miracle I have somewhat of a decent ass.
That must be good genetics or something.
I’ve certainly never done anything to boost the glutes.
Anyway, enough about my butt and boobs. It’s time to head out into the cold and get my heart rate up. Sloane would be so proud. I plan on telling her later. Hopefully, it will earn me an extra-long make-out.
Dad is sitting at the table when I shuffle in. He looks at me like I’m an alien. That’s fair. I can’t remember the last time I was up with my dad on a workday.
“Morning, love.”
“Mmm.”
“Coffee?”
“Water.”
I’m not very talkative in the morning as is. At this hour, my brain is still upstairs asleep in my bed.
“Eden, what…what are you wearing?”
Slapping my cheeks several times, I down my glass of water and turn to my dad. “Nothing we ever need to discuss. Forget you saw me. Now I have to go and listen to Sarah Millican. Have a good day.”
His chuckles follow me out of the house. I was right. It is cold. Putting in my earbuds, I try to switch mindsets. I’ll never reach 5k if I keep being my own worst enemy.
Completing the challenge is turning into a personal thing. Let’s be honest: I agreed to the whole thing because Sloane wanted me to do it, and I wanted to spend time with her. But now I’ve done a couple of sessions, I’m serious about completing all ten weeks for myself.
Sarah Millican’s voice isn’t melodic. It’s a little high-pitched, which is great because I’m thirty seconds away from falling asleep.
She tells me to walk at a pace that will get my heart pumping.
It’s only five minutes, which I’m happy to report I can now do without feeling like I’m gonna collapse.
I’ve already mapped out a rough route. It’s not 5k, and I won’t get to that point for a few weeks. My legs are burning by the time Sarah tells me to slow down and take a drink of water. I didn’t bring any. Bugger.
With the brief rest over with, Ms Millican tells me I’m going to do my first long bout of jogging.
She even tells me how to do it, which I appreciate.
Apparently, I shouldn’t bob up and down as I run.
She says if someone were to see me on the other side of a hedge, they shouldn’t be able to tell I’m jogging.
With that firmly in mind, I wait for her to finish the countdown. I have one full minute of jogging for each interval. Yesterday it was only thirty seconds. The music playing is techno, and I’m not happy with it. I need to see if I can use my own tunes.
At the halfway mark I’m breathing hard, but I’m not struggling as much as I thought I would be.
The sun is higher now, and the worry that I might get jumped lessens significantly.
However, with the daylight comes people.
Notably, my neighbour who lives a few houses down.
Karen Miltz and her four-year-old cockapoo.
She spots me and I see her eyebrows raise.
We have a few seconds of awkward eye contact.
I’m breathing too hard to talk, so I give her a quick smile and carry on.
With one last jog to go, I focus my energy on the scrambled eggs and coffee I’m going to shove down my throat as soon as I’m home. Every muscle in my body hurts. Several I didn’t even know I had are piping up too.
The irritating music finishes just as I reach my front porch. I won’t deny I crawl up the steps and collapse for a few seconds. I just have to get my breath back.
When I can hold my own bodyweight up again, I fall through the door and stumble to the kitchen. Mum is sitting where Dad was, wearing the same shocked face.
“Morning, love.”
“Mmm.” This time, it’s my need for water that has me rendered mute. My mouth is that gross, tacky kind of dry. Where your saliva is more solid than liquid.
The litre of H2O barely touches the side, as I feel my organs sigh in relief. I need to buy a water bottle for my next session. Thankfully, I get tomorrow off for recovery. I’m thinking about an evening of Netflix after a long bubble bath. I’ve still got today to get through first.
“Are you alright, Eden?” Mum laughs.
“I…I…did…it!”
“Jesus, Eden, you look like you’re about to die!” Jenna says as she sweeps in on a cloud of damned souls. “Why are you so sweaty?”
“Jogging,” I gasp. God, am I like allergic to this shit? How can I feel worse than I did when I got back?
“Sloane has got you so whipped.” She laughs.