Be Free, Be You

I bit my lip as I put my head against the glass window in Puck’s car, staring out at the black pavement that passed underneath the tires of his truck. I had seen the look on my sister’s face when she told me to get lost, and I’d seen enough movies and read enough books to know what that glint in her eyes meant.

Valarie was going to lose her virginity.

“Are you okay?” Puck questioned, glancing over at me for a second as he drove. “You’re, like, hyperventilating.”

Instinctively, I stopped breathing altogether. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he chuckled. “Is there something wrong?”

Ugh. What an awkward conversation to have with a friend. Or whatever Puck was. But either way, I was almost positive that Valarie wouldn’t want me discussing her sex life, or possible beginning of a sex life, with anyone. Especially Puck. The two of them weren’t on the best of terms.

“When did you lose your virginity?” I burst out instead, having been incredibly desperate for a change in subject. The second the words were out of my mouth, my entire face gave off heat like a radiator.

Puck found the question funny, though, not awkward. He turned and grinned at me for a second, my blatant embarrassment making the topic even more amusing. “Why? You worried about dying a virgin? Just say the word, Steph, and we’ll get rid of that v-card right now.”

“Stop it, pig,” I snapped jokingly. “Are you going to answer the question or not? ‘Cause it looks like you’re avoiding the subject.”

For a minute, he stared straight ahead, wracking his brain for the memory he so desperately searched for. “I think I was thirteen,” he responded after what seemed like an eternity. “Yeah, I think that was my first time.”

“When there are that many experiences to sort through, you have a problem,” I joked. But when thinking about his answer again, I stared at him, slack-jawed. “Are you kidding? You were only thirteen?”

“Yeah. Why?” He turned to look at me for a second and saw my disgust and shock written all over my face. “If it makes you feel better, she was seventeen.”

“That does not make me feel better. That makes me wonder exactly how desperate she was.”

“Oh, hey there.” Puck pulled to a stop at a red light as he turned to glare at me. “I’ve always been a catch. Even when I was kid.”

“Were you even through puberty at that time?” I gasped.

“I could get it up, if that’s what you’re asking.”

My face burned just as red as before as I shook my head and crossed my arms in front of my chest. “That’s not what I was asking, thank you very much.”

“Maybe not intentionally, but underneath your innocent little act, I think you were thinking it.”

“My innocence isn’t an act,” I argued. “I’m just young. And Valarie kind of sheltered me. She may not always act like it, but she’s really a caring older sister.”

“She can’t shelter you forever,” Puck expressed in a husky voice.

I stayed quiet, since I wasn’t positive what he meant, but soon enough, he pulled into the driveway.

“Are your parents home?” he questioned, nodding toward the front door, as if I wasn’t sure what a home was.

There were no cars in the driveway, which typically meant no, but I had a pretty good idea of what he was thinking. “No. But just because I asked you about when you lost your virginity doesn’t mean I want to lose mine.”

“Doesn’t it?” he snickered, leaning in closer to me, cupping a hand around the back of my head to keep it there. “Because I’m more than willing.”

I thought back to a few weeks previously, when I would have gone weak at the knees and done absolutely anything Puck offered, no matter what consequences awaited me. All because he was Noah Puckerman, and I was a lowly loser who skated under the radar of everyone’s vision. If I was known at all, it was because people would sigh in recognition and say, “Oh, you’re Valarie’s sister, right?” And then, as they walked away, they’d snicker about how it sucked for Valarie to have me as a sister.

But I was no longer that girl. For some reason, hanging out with Puck, working toward being in Glee Club, narrowly avoiding scandal: they all made me into a stronger person.

So I pushed him off me and glared at him solidly, straight in the eyes. At the beautiful hazely-brown color of them, I almost caved. But the thought kicked in that I would have hated myself later, and I regained my composure.

“Stop it,” I snapped at him. “Look, I really liked you, but this isn’t going to work. You don’t really like me. You just keep using me to make out with, and now that’s not even enough for you. I’ll have to know that when I do have sex for the first time, I’m going to make sure it’s with someone who cares about me. Not someone who cares about my body, but cares about me as a person.”

Puck opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off immediately, knowing that if he got to say anything even slightly romantic or charming, no matter how much of a line I knew it would be, I’d melt. “No. You’re going to have to find a new friend, a new fuck buddy, and a new tutor. Because I’m not doing this anymore.”

With that, I threw open the door to the car, hearing the hinges scream in protest, and slammed it behind me before running into the house.

Once inside my kitchen, a place that I knew so well, I collapsed behind the door and buried my face into my knees, feeling my body lurch forward violently as a sob bubbled up from my stomach. The tears came soon after.

I knew I was pathetic, but I didn’t care. I should have been proud of myself for standing up to someone that was trying to take advantage of me.

But instead, I just felt numb, empty, and sad. While my conscience was screaming at me that I shouldn’t regret what I’d done, my heart (or what felt like my heart, anyway) told me that I’d just let the one thing I’d ever wanted in my life, romantic-wise, get away.

After the tears dried up, leaving stiff trails of salt on my cheeks, I got to my feet and took a deep breath. My head pounded from the force of my tears, and my feet dragged against the ground as I made my way toward the stairs, not having enough energy or bounce to walk normally.

I was halfway up the stairs when I realized something. I didn’t remember hearing the screeching sound Puck’s truck made when it backed up.

Granted, it was a possibility that I’d simply missed it over the sound of my pity session, but another option was valid enough to go under review.

Quietly, as if Puck could have heard me, I snuck over to the living room window, which had a perfect view of the driveway.

And there was Puck’s truck, idling. He sat in the driver’s seat, both hands on the steering wheel, a grimace on his face.

My eyebrows drew together in confusion as I went out to the driveway. I knew I looked like a hot mess, but he deserved to know how much he was fucking with my head.

The second I entered his line of sight, Puck shut off the truck and stumbled out. “Look, Steph, I’m sorry.”

Just that word by itself was enough to get me to stop in my tracks and cross my arms defiantly. “For what?”

“For leading you on.” He ran a hand through his Mohawk before letting it drop back down at his side with a sigh. “I hear what you’re saying, but I have to tell you my side of the story.”

I nodded, waiting patiently.

“This is weird for me, too. I’m used to fucking girls and women of all ages, and then leaving before the night is up. That’s just what I’m all about. It’s what I’ve always been about.”

“And since I won’t give it up to you already, you can’t leave me alone?” I hissed, although I’d sworn to myself that I’d listen.

“No! It’s that…” Puck brought his eyes up to mine, staring straight into my soul, stripping down the beginnings of walls that I had been trying to build. “It’s that I actually don’t want to leave you alone. I don’t want to make you another girl that I sleep with and leave in the middle of the night. I’d want to stick through to the morning.”

I swallowed, knowing that was probably the nicest thing that Puck could ever said, considering Puck was kind of an idiot. And maybe those were lines, but part of me figured they weren’t, considering he’d been sitting in his truck for over an hour.

“Come on,” I insisted, waving him toward me. “Let’s get something to eat.”

And just like that, our discussion about where our relationship was going ended.