Don’t Knock

Chapter One

The Beginning

It’s the last day of high school. I should be excited to finally finish this chapter of my life, but I find myself conflicted.

The thought of leaving the familiar and starting something new in a different city with new people sends my mind reeling.

Taking a year off before starting college never crossed my mind.

It has always been my plan to graduate, enjoy my summer and dive right into my new adventure.

My boyfriend Jayce hooks his arm around me and tugs me closer, a massive smile plastering his face.

His lips press into the top of my head as we stroll down the main hall of Southside High for the last time.

We didn’t get into the same college, but he’s only an hour away, and we plan to see each other every weekend.

Maureen, my best friend since kindergarten, races toward us, slinging her backpack across the ground like a bowling ball, trying to wipe out our legs.

Jayce and I separate, letting the bag slide between us.

Maureen has always been overly affectionate.

I love her, but I could do without her hands constantly touching me.

She wedges herself between Jayce and I, hooks her arms around ours and says, “Who’s ready to party? ”

Every year, the graduating class has a bonfire behind the school.

Railroad tracks separate the school zone from a long-abandoned industrial area that is likely contaminated with hazardous materials.

Woods surround the former factory, providing cover from the outside world, and a small pond and park are located just beyond the tree line.

No one goes inside the vacant building, ever.

It’s not only boarded up, but word is, it’s haunted by the people who died in a fire there a decade ago.

I peer over my shoulder as we continue walking, Maureen leaving her bag where it landed in the hall without a care in the world.

She will start college in the fall with Jayce.

I’m bummed we didn’t all end up together, but at least I can hang out with them both on the weekends. You know, two birds, one stone.

We approach the exit, and instead of unhooking arms with us so we can go through the door one at a time, Maureen turns us sideways, and we shuffle in a line through the opening.

She giggles and looks up at me, then turns to do the same to Jayce before releasing our arms and skipping across the parking lot.

Maureen is not only blessed with a petite frame and perfectly silky long blonde hair, but she’s rich.

Well, at least her family is. Her father owns a chain of porn shops around the state.

They live in a big fancy house on the west side of town, where the line between the city and the town is clear.

Duplexes, apartment houses and raggedy homes suddenly cease after the sign “Now entering the Westside Neighborhood.” It’s like someone purchased the plot of land on either side of the road, leaving an acre-sized gap between the city and town, so as not to contaminate their precious space.

She’s not stuck up or anything. In fact, she’s more like us than she is the other Richies from the west side. Jayce and I think it’s because of who her father is. I imagine being a porn shop owner doesn’t sit well with the doctors, lawyers and investors in the area.

We shake our heads as Maureen leaps into her mom’s Porsche Boxster convertible and plops into the passenger seat. She waves at us like Princess Diana as her mom cruises out of the parking lot and disappears.

I turn to Jayce, stretch my neck and peck his soft lips. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me tight against his body and presses his tongue into my mouth. His deep, penetrating kiss sends prickles through my body and a tingle between my legs. We have yet to have sex.

Although we’ve done other things to bring each other pleasure, waiting to have sex until the school year ended was something I made clear to Jayce when we started dating.

The end-of-year party is a perfect opportunity in his mind. We’ll all be drinking, our inhibitions will be lower, and my mind won’t be so focused on the future. The only problem is, I’m afraid. What if he gets me pregnant? What if someone sees us? What if…?

Jayce removes his tongue from my mouth and says, “See you at the bonfire.”

I smile broadly, the heat in my face rising as my cheeks redden. “I’ll be there.”

He has this charisma about him that I find irresistible.

His ability to turn me into putty excites and annoys me at the same time.

I can’t get mad at him, no matter how hard I try.

All he has to do is flash me his crooked smile and bat his long lashes over his brown eyes, and I melt.

He has me, mind, body, and soul; he has it all.

As he climbs into the back of his friend’s pickup truck along with four other guys, I find myself wanting to throw myself in the back and ride home with them.

A car horn beeps as I cross the street, and I flip them the finger. I’m on the crosswalk for God’s sake.

I kick rocks down the sidewalk as I close in on my house. Both my parents are at work for another couple of hours. I insert my house key in the lock, turn and push the door open.

Boozer, our black lab, leaps on me, his paws slapping my chest, nearly knocking me back out the door. I push forward, grabbing his paws and placing them on the floor. “Down, Boozer.”

He wags his tail hard, slapping the entryway table, jarring it. The lamp on top wobbles, and I grab it before it falls and roll my eyes. “Come on, dip shit, let’s go potty.”

His feet scrape against the floor as he races ahead of me. When he reaches the kitchen, he skids on the throw carpet and slams into the door, rattling it. I shake my head and wonder if this is why he was at the shelter for a year before we adopted him. He’s dumber than a box of rocks.

I open the back door, and he jogs into the yard. After circling the same spot three times, he hunches over. A line of shit cruises out of his ass at breakneck speed, landing on the ground in a pile like chocolate soft serve.

That’s one thing I’ll give him; he can hold his bowels and bladder for hours without an accident.

He flicks his back legs at his poop, completely missing it, and walks toward the only tree in our backyard.

One day, I’m going to time how long it takes for him to pee.

I stand there, waiting impatiently for the urine stream to stop flowing so I can go inside and get ready.

My phone pings, and I gaze down at the screen.

It’s Jayce.

Can’t wait to see you later.

I hover my finger over the keyboard, ready to respond, when my phone pings again.

It’s Maureen.

Tonight’s going to be epic.

Three dots appear and disappear, and seconds later, a photo of her manicured nails holding a bottle of Vodka appears.

I send Maureen a thumbs-up emoji and Jayce a heart.

Boozer rubs his face on my leg, wraps his paws around it, and thrusts his pink lipstick into my shin.

“Ewwww, Boozer. Get your dick off my leg,” I yell, pushing him back.

He smiles up at me, his tongue dangling, oblivious of my wishes, and tries again.

“Get, you freak.” I yank my leg from his grasp and storm inside, swinging the door around behind me.

A note from my mom sits on the kitchen table.

Don’t forget, your father and I are going to dinner tonight.

Oh, I didn’t forget, I think to myself as I climb the flight of stairs to my bedroom.

My closet is full of clothes, yet I’m struggling to find something to wear.

Perhaps it’s because I know tonight Jayce is supposed to take my virginity, and I want it to be perfect.

The problem is, the more I think about it, the more scared I become.

I’ve seen the size of his cock and the way just his fingers inside me hurts.

I worry about the pain he will cause me.

He’s told me many times before he’ll be gentle, but it’s not just that. Having sex changes things.

If there’s one thing my mother instilled in me since I got my first period at the age of twelve, it’s that sex can be scary.

She told me stories about people who only had sex once and got pregnant or contracted diseases.

Instilling fear was partly her intention, and the other part was to make me think it through beforehand.

Now, I find myself second-guessing my promise to Jayce.

My fingers hover over Jayce’s number. Calling him to say I’ve changed my mind about tonight seems rude. I need to tell him in person.

I haul out a graphic T-shirt, leggings, sneakers, and a matching hat. It’s the most unsexy thing I can think of wearing tonight.

After taking a hot shower, I pull on my pants, put on my shirt, and tie my sneakers.

Maureen has already texted me twice, wondering when I’ll be ready.

I’m her ride, so she’s growing impatient.

I tie my hair in a ponytail and pull my hat down low on my forehead before jogging downstairs.

Muddy footprints scatter around the kitchen when I enter, and Boozer stands at the open door, wagging his tail.

Flies buzz around my head, and I swat at them as I yell at Boozer.

“Bad dog. Get inside.” He bobs his head at me and crosses the threshold.

I take paw wipes, clean his feet, and pat his backside.

“Go lie down.” After doing a quick sweep across the floor with the wet jet mop, I lock up the house and make my way to Maureen’s.

When I pull into the driveway, her mom stands in the doorway, arms crossed, arguing with her.

It’s her outfit. It has to be. Her mini skirt barely covers her ass, and her cleavage is seconds away from busting out of the top. Her mom stuffs a white sweater into her hands and grits her teeth as she says, “Take it.”