This page contains a Flash digital edition of a book.
Brenda should have recognized the signs. She should have run fast from Eddie; stayed far away. Yet, when he was near her, she felt a tiny flick of excitement. There was something about him that made Brenda feel curious about boys in a way she had never experienced with Bobby, like parts of her body were suddenly awake.


One afternoon, when she was thirteen, she found herself alone with him. Eddie was sixteen, and his arms were long strips of muscle, angles of tanned skin. His blond hair was cut short, so that his face seemed large. His eyes were a dull light blue; he had a way of seeming disinterested in everything.


―I was looking for Bobby,‖ she stammered. ―He‘s not here,‖ he said in a voice deeper then she remembered. As he fiddled with a saddle, he glanced at her breasts.


―Ok. Thanks.‖ Brenda was awkward with her changing body. She found hair where there had been none, started her monthlies, and her mother seemed determined to bind her breasts with all sorts of brassieres. How Brenda hated them – the feeling of being restricted. They were tortuous devices with hooks and straps and edges that cut into her skin. On that day, she had decided not to wear one, and snuck out without her mother noticing. The summer heat was unbearable and she longed to breathe.


Ed smiled at her, and she noticed that her breasts were growing pointy, tingling with excitement. All at once she became aware of the silence. They were alone. Danger trickled through her; a hot wave of panic.


He finished putting away a saddle, and turned to her. In one breath he was up against her as she tried to scoot by. He stopped, rubbing his pelvis against her front. She could feel something hard against her stomach and blushed, then seconds later when she realized what the hard thing was, she felt her face burn with embarrassment. Suddenly his hands cupped her breasts. He rubbed up against her and bent down as if to kiss her. Brenda turned her face away and stepped back, feeling the wall against her back. His gaze changed from playful to mean. She crossed her arms, hiding her breasts.


―I… I..‖ she started to say.


Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32  |  Page 33  |  Page 34  |  Page 35  |  Page 36  |  Page 37  |  Page 38  |  Page 39  |  Page 40  |  Page 41  |  Page 42