This feels different. So different from all the other times I’ve been with boys.

I look into his hazel eyes, clear like crystal. They’re actually a little like Luis’s, only lighter…and kinder. Much kinder. Luis always looked at me in pieces—my boobs, my butt, my belly. It made me feel sexy at first, until I started to wonder if he only really saw me as a combination of sexy parts rather than a person. Jackson looks at me in a way I’ve never seen from him. Not from anyone. The looks that I’ve always loved getting from Jackson are still there, just different. More intense.

He’s not looking at me as a way to get something he wants. That’s what I’m used to, but he isn’t like those other guys. I can feel it in his every movement. He wants me, but not like he wants to use me. It’s like he wants to keep me.

Heat rushes to my face, and even though he’s close enough now to see, I don’t turn away. I want to soak up that look, remember it for the next time I feel myself slipping into the darkness of my past. I’ll close my eyes and remember this. Remember Jackson.

He leans in closer and pulls me against him. The pressure of his body against mine awakens the memories of everyone who’s ever done this to me before, whether I wanted them to or not. But one look at his face and those memories feel too far away to matter.

My stomach tumbles again; my heart pounds. I find myself wanting him to be even closer. I lean in, too, and I rub my thumb along the top of his neck, the feel of his skin there.

He presses his cheek to mine, his lips brush my ear, and he whispers, “You’re so beautiful.”

And now I’m lost. In this world of lights and music, everything else disappears.

My past, my future, all that matters is me and this sweet boy who thinks I’m beautiful.

We’re alone in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, dancing like complete fools, but this feels so right.

It feels right in a way it never did with Luis, because with him, it was always about what he wanted. When what he wanted was me, times were good. But once he started wanting to pay the electric bill, buy a new television, get some new clothes, and wanted me to start working to afford those things…that’s when things started to change.

Now, it’s more. It’s about what I want. And I want Jackson.

It’s about us. What we want. Each other.

My heart pounds. I close my eyes when I feel Jackson’s fingers touch my ear and push a strand of hair away from my face. His hand lingers there, touching softly.

I pull away only enough to look at him. His eyes search my face.

I’m scared.

I’m scared of what I’m feeling, scared of what it means. Scared of knowing that I can never really be with him, so how can I want to now?

Scared of changing my mind and being trapped.

But as I look into his eyes, I know he’s not like Luis. He’s not like the older guys I dated before I left for New York. I know he’s not like the man who raped me, or the dirty johns who only saw me as a pretty face and body they could buy.

I can trust him.

So when the song changes, we don’t move, don’t change our tempo or care that people might be watching us through the windows of their picket-fenced homes.

And then he does it.

He leans in. When he’s close, my lips buzzing with anticipation, I lean into him. I can’t stop myself. His hand comes up into my hair and gently pulls my face forward until his lips touch mine.

I don’t pull away. I don’t run.

This kiss is like nothing I’ve felt before. It’s so simple and soft, but so very intimate.

My skin simmers. My heart floats.

His warmth spreads through me like a gift. Like he’s giving me a piece of himself.

He pulls back for a moment and whispers, “Is this okay?”

I slowly nod, and he comes back in. When he opens his mouth, I’m delighted to find he tastes just like I expected. Fruit and brown sugar.

Then he releases me and backs away.

I don’t want him to stop, but I’m too scared to pull him back in. Instead I look at him, hoping he can read my desire.

I feel silly, like this was my first kiss. How stupid is that? The whore is embarrassed to be kissed.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and I blink.

He takes a step away, and now I’m confused. He’s almost out of my reach, but I manage to grab his hand and stop him. He turns back to me.

“If…” I start to say, but I don’t know what he needs to hear. “Why did you…” I begin, but that sounds just as lame.

He stands there, looking at me. “I don’t know why. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” He runs his hand through his hair. “That was dumb, I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t mean why did you kiss me. I mean, why were you walking away? Why did you—”

“So you don’t mind?” His eyes hopeful but scared. It makes my stomach flutter a little. Maybe I should mind, I don’t know. But I don’t.

“I didn’t mind,” I say softly. And then I remember what happened with his last girlfriend, so I tell him, “And I’m okay if you want to stop.”

A look of relief comes over him, so intense that I realize I probably wasn’t the only one nervous about tonight.

If my face wasn’t already red, I’m sure I’d be blushing. He licks his lips a little, like he wants to kiss me again. I guess he and I are like each other at least in this way. A little freedom is all we ever wanted to feel okay.

I want more of his mouth. I press my lips to his again, mostly because I’m not sure I could resist if I wanted to.

When we’re out of breath and finally pull away from each other, I don’t know what else to do. What’s the next step when the guy’s okay drawing the line at just kissing? So I sit in the grass and lie back. The stars are pretty bright now. The sun’s light completely lost to the other side of the world.

Jackson lies beside me.

“What about you, Jackson?” I whisper.

“What about me?”

“I’ve told you lots about me, but you’ve told me nothing about you. What are your deep dark issues? I mean, if you have any. You seem pretty perfect to me.”

“Perfect? Seriously?”

I nod and feel a blush inching across my cheeks again. I’m not sure he sees me, though. I’m still staring up at the stars as they slowly grow brighter.

“I’m definitely not perfect,” he says.

I don’t speak, waiting for him to tell me something, anything.

“What do you want to know?”

I stop to think. “You used to date that Liz girl, right?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, and for the first time, I wonder if he still loves her. If he’s still upset about what happened between them. “That was a long time ago, though.”

“Did you…love her?”

His head whips to me, and I look back at him. He’s silent for a long time. What’s he thinking?

“Maybe,” he says finally. “But I was only fourteen. I don’t think I really knew what love was then.”

“Fourteen isn’t that young,” I say, thinking about how young I was when I met Luis. “Will you tell me what happened?”

He takes in a deep breath. “We dated in middle school and most of ninth grade. She was my best friend. But then things changed. She changed. She started lying to me about things and then eventually…she dumped me for some jock guy and became…well, not a very nice person.”

“Why did she change, do you think?” I realize I’m pushing him in exactly the way I wouldn’t want someone to push me, but I want to know more about him. This is making me hate those popular girls even more, to know how one of them hurt Jackson, but it makes me feel a little better, like I’m not the only one with a past we’d like to forget.

He shrugs. “She never told me this, but the rumor is that she slept with some guy at a party a few months before we broke up. It would make sense, because it was around the time things started changing.”

“What a bitch,” I say, but I didn’t mean to say it out loud. “Sorry,” I whisper.