The Teal Wall

I could feel the throbbing between my legs and wondered if I was still bleeding. I hadn’t been ready for so much blood. Frankly, even after years of regular periods, it still shook me a bit to see that amount.

Randy lay next to me, snoring softly. His relaxed breathing wasn’t what had kept me up until…what time was it? It was sometime between midnight and dawn, I knew. It was still dark, but I’d been lying for hours staring at the teal motel room wall. My brain refused to shut off; there was too much to process.

Had I been ready for such a big step? Randy seemed to think I was. He reminded me of how mature I was for my age. He was always telling me I was smart and beautiful and strong and making me feel like a woman.

Tonight was different, though. I didn’t feel like a grown woman, despite the very adult thing I had done earlier in the night. Actually, I felt more like a child than I had in a long time.

I’ve heard the expression about love being pain. I guess it just never occurred to me that it was anything more than a metaphor. I could understand the idea of heartbreak being emotionally painful, but I thought the good parts of love would feel nice. And Randy and I were in love. Weren’t we?

Randy and I had a real connection. For months he would look at me a certain way that made my heart race or skip or sometimes even stop beating altogether. How I had ached for him, heart and soul. And now I physically ached. Was sex supposed to be so painful? Did I do something wrong? He didn’t tell me that I was doing anything wrong. He seemed to like it, so I must have done okay.

His snoring stopped for a second, and so did my heart. I didn’t want him to wake up. I wasn’t ready to face him again. Instead, he shifted in the bed and wrapped his arm around me. The snoring started again. I wanted to puke. I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. But it was like I couldn’t move. Was it some kind of post-sex shock? Maybe it was the gravity of having just lost my virginity.

I shut my eyes. Whenever I felt sick, my parents would always tell me to go to sleep, and I’d feel better in the morning. It usually worked, so maybe it could work now. I hoped I would open my eyes to sunlight pouring into the room, and like magic I wouldn’t have this pain or nausea or be fighting back tears. I would remember how much I loved Randy. He would smile that handsome smile, and everything in my world would be right again. I would realize that what we did was an act of love and nothing shameful or wrong.

He was my one and only. It was just like in books when the two main characters felt love at first sight but refused to give in at first. And then one day, they just knew they couldn’t fight it anymore. That was Randy and me. And true to the best stories, our love was forbidden.

My parents would never approve of him. I had to keep lying to them for a little while longer. Even now they thought I was attending a sleepover with my friends – girls only, of course.

I opened my eyes again. Sleep wasn’t coming any time soon. I stared at that ridiculously painted motel room wall and wished that I was at a sleepover. My girlfriends and I would all be in our pajamas right now, lounging on sleeping bags, eating popcorn and giggling at whatever goofy movie was on. I would feel carefree and happy…

Instead, I found myself uncomfortably naked on scratchy sheets and a well-used mattress with my thirty-nine-year-old history teacher pressed up against me. If this was love, why didn’t it feel like love? Where was the glowing feeling? The bursting heart? The smile that locked on my face and couldn’t fade no matter what?

I had all of that up until a few hours ago. I couldn’t wait for Randy to give me what he called my “special night”. Ever since I’d told him my birthday was coming up, he’d been telling me all about the gift he was going to give me. He was going to treat me to a beautiful dinner and take me to a five-star hotel, and we would dance in the room and have flowers and room service…imagine my shock when we pulled into the parking lot of a cheap motel.

Of course, that was after he had picked me up at the back of the movie theater. That was another lie to my parents. They had taken me out to birthday dinner, and I had concocted a story about my friends wanting to see a late movie followed by a sleepover. Since it was my birthday, my unsuspecting parents were happy I had a fun night planned with my friends. My father dropped me off at the front of the theater we frequented, and I pretended I saw my friends inside. I waved at nobody and hopped out of the car quickly, reasoning that I didn’t want to miss any of the previews. Ever the protective one, my father waited until I was inside before leaving.

Minutes later, I left the theater and walked around to the back where my teacher could pick me up without the risk of us being seen together. Stupidly, I’d thought it was romantic. It was as if our love was so powerful that we could only be together in secrecy. For months, Randy and I had snuck around. Mostly he would drive me around in his car and find some quiet non-populated area to park, and we would make out in the backseat. His hands would travel my body so gently and pleasurably. The first time was awkward, but things got so much better. Maybe sex was the same way?

Part of the awkwardness had to be the age difference. He was so much older and more experienced. I’d only ever kissed a boy before, so everything after that was brand new to me. He was the first guy to touch me…down there.

It was also a little strange knowing that he was my teacher. He graded my work. Would he grade me on my physical performances, too? Would he grade my body? I was self-conscious enough around guys my age, but a grown man who had seen tons of other naked women? It felt like I would be competing with all the women before me. I rarely felt pretty, so that made it really tough to show him parts of myself. But he always assured me I was perfect, and he never pressured me. He would ask for favors, sure, but that’s normal boyfriend-girlfriend stuff, and I figured I needed to learn anyway. As long as he didn’t ask for sex. That was too much.

But I knew the dreaded subject would come up eventually. And it did as soon as I mentioned my eighteenth birthday was coming up. Then he got very excited, and that’s when he told me he was planning my “special night”.

Deep down, I knew what that meant. But I thought it would be perfect and beautiful, and I would magically be ready for it. I would be a real adult then. In my mind, I would look like a prom queen, and he would wear a tux and bring me a dozen roses. He would drive us to a gorgeous five-star hotel, and we would drink chilled champagne and have gourmet food from room service. The room would be lit with candles, and gentle music would play. He would lay me down on an oversized bed, and my body would practically sink into its soft comfort. Then he would gently kiss and caress me and tell me I was sexy and that he loved me so much…

I certainly hadn’t fantasized about these ugly teal walls. After we drove away from behind the theater, with me ducking down until he said we were away from prying eyes, he parked at this very plain-looking motel. To his credit, he had presented me with a bouquet of pretty flowers. They weren’t roses, but I liked them anyway. I stayed in the car while he got us a room. He told me that even though I was officially an adult now, a teacher-student relationship could still get him in trouble, so we had to keep a low profile. Sitting in the car, I began to rethink things. He was only gone a few minutes, but in that time my mind raced. It didn’t feel right. I didn’t want this. Randy must have sensed it, but he chocked it up to the poor setting.

“You deserve the best hotel in town, but hotels have cameras. After you graduate, I promise we’ll go somewhere incredible. But tonight, our love will have to be enough.” He held my hands and stared at me with those deep brown eyes, and I melted. I hated disappointing him, so I swallowed my nervousness and set myself on doing what he wanted.

We stepped into the room. Dark green carpet. Teal walls. A bright orange comforter atop a king-sized bed.

Randy squeezed my shoulder gently with his free hand. His other hand carried an overnight bag. I studied the room, trying to find a way to get my body and mind ready for what was coming. Randy pulled out two candles and lit them. They smelled nice. He pulled out a box of rose petals and scattered them on the bed. I couldn’t help but smile. It was partially because I loved the gesture, but it was also because they looked so ridiculous in that setting, and I almost laughed out loud. Randy pulled out a few more items. The sight of lubricant and condoms slapped the smile off my face. I was back to feeling uncertain. Randy noticed.

“We’ll go slow.” He put his hands on my upper arms. “I’ll never hurt you.”

Fast-forward to me staring up at the ceiling, saying things like, “ow” and “wait” but never quite “stop” because I didn’t want him to think I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t a grown woman. Despite the pain, his body on mine felt comforting. Still I tried to focus on anything else with each of his thrusts. The feel of the sheets as my fingers dug into them. The teal-painted wall to my right. The joy in Randy’s moans. Pain again. The feel of my body being rocked by his hips. The teal wall as I turned my face away from his. Then his hot breath on my neck. More pain. His final cry. And again that hideous teal wall to my right as all the movement stopped.

He collapsed on top of me, and I was so grateful it was over. There was still an abundance of pain, even as he removed himself. But I knew it would fade. Pain always fades eventually.

From beside me, Randy lay on his back catching his breath. “Congratulations. You’re officially a woman in every way.”

I pulled the comforter up to my neck.

Randy scrunched up his face at me. “You should probably clean yourself up. There’s a lot of blood.”

I was all too happy to get away from him. I doubted he’d actually even tried to be gentle. He’d been too busy enjoying himself. I kept replaying the way he’d pushed himself into me, as if he didn’t hear my scared cries. He’d even closed his eyes so he didn’t have to see my face contorting into obvious displeasure.

The fluorescent light in the tiny bathroom showed me my reflection in a way I hated. My face was red. There were dried tears on my cheeks. My hair was a mess from the way my head had rubbed back and forth against the pillow.

I stepped into the shower and looked down at the blood smeared on my thighs. More of it trickled down my leg and joined the pooling water in the tub. I twisted the water knob all the way in the hot direction, as if I could bake off the layer of skin that had just been through that experience. Maybe I could get rid of all those disgusting cells and feel like my old self again. I could be the happy teen I was twenty minutes ago, before Randy had laid his naked body across mine. Before he’d kissed me on the forehead, looked into my eyes, and whispered, “just relax, and it’ll feel amazing.”

I couldn’t expect him to know how it would feel for me. He wasn’t a woman, after all. But I still felt let down by him. He should have realized it didn’t feel good for me. I had the sad feeling that he did but kept fulfilling his desire anyway.

I don’t know how long I stayed in the shower, but the room was full of steam when I finally emerged. The mirror was so cloudy I couldn’t see myself in it, much to my relief. My clothes were still on the floor by the bed, so I had no choice but to walk out in just a towel. I wrapped myself snugly to ensure it wouldn’t slip off. The last thing I wanted was to feel his eyes traveling my raw form. I felt disgusting and humiliated.

And I was terrified he might want to do it again.

Fortunately, my appearance didn’t matter; Randy was completely passed out on the bed. I couldn’t help but notice that he had used the bed sheet to wipe my blood off himself. I empathized with the sheet just then. We had both been used and left bloody and in dire need of cleansing – and by the same selfish man.

I watched him for several moments, contemplating whether or not to stay. Honestly, what choice did I have? I couldn’t just take off in his car. And I definitely couldn’t call my parents to come pick me up. It was too late – or early – to call a friend.

The phrase: “you made your bed, and now you have to lie in it” passed through my mind, and in this case, it was a literal bed. I tossed the towel aside so the feel of it wouldn’t awaken Randy. Against my wishes, I crawled back into the bed, again wishing I had just gone out with my friends for the night. I could have had actual fun – innocent fun. I could have stayed a child for just one more night. I could have avoided all these confusing feelings and all of this anguish.

But here I was, sometime between midnight and dawn. Just me, Randy, my pain…and that ugly teal wall.