Well, it's been two years since I came up with my Falling Sun (although not since I posted it. I probably won't actually write an entire sequel but I came up with a little bit. I know what when I read a book I always want to know what happens to the characters afterwards - especially if something dramatic happens.
Rated 16+ because they talk about sex...
Junior year was enough to put it all behind me, pretend that it never happened.
I had new friends, most of whom didn’t even know about that little period in my life, and with that it was easy to forget about it.
Well, mostly forget about it.
I still had those dreams, so many of them so that months into sophomore year I had gone to bed expecting them every night. Some were better than others. There were some dreams where he would come back, he would walk into school, he would hug me and kiss me, he would promise me that he would stay with me forever. And that is all I wanted. But always, with those dreams, I would wake up. Always I would wake up and remember that he was not back, he will never be back. And with those dreams I could never go back to sleep.
There were other dreams where I would relive everything that happened. They would lead up to the moment when the car swung around the corner. When nobody saw it coming. I would awake with short sudden shrieks, the screams, his and mine, would echo through my head for hours, even when I close my eyes and begged his memory to leave.
The worst ones where the ones I didn’t except. They’d always start out like the good ones, he would come back and he would hold me. We would walk along the beach, we would kiss. But while we were kissing he would always fall still. I would open my eyes and look at him, he was dead. The next moment there would be blood. He would be covered in it and then I would be covered in it. His blood would be everywhere, in my mouth it tasted salty. Ocean and tears. I would scream and cry and wake up trembling and sweating. Those days it was hard to go to school but somehow I managed to do it.
But now I was a junior. Sophomore year, that summer, those dreams, they were all behind me. I was ready.
“If you give it all away on the first date it takes away the suspense and then the guys have nothing to look forward to, you know? If it weren’t for that I would screw him right now.” My friend Margaret was sitting at the lunch table, her legs crossed, her icy blue eyes locked onto Connor Ratting’s back.
“Is that honestly the only reason you would wait,” Anna spat back in disbelief.
Joanna laughed, a little harshly, “Don’t you have any morals.”
“It’s not about morals,” Margaret replied, “It’s about hormones.” With that, she dipped her purple nails into the pretzel bag and popped one into her mouth. “You agree with me, don’t you, Sophie?” She asked me where I was sitting innocently at the end of the table. I had been looking at Connor, too. He was easily the hottest senior in our school so why was it that I was so repelled by the thought of interacting with him whatsoever. Wasn’t it about time I started, at least looking at boys again?
“What?” I asked.
Margaret clarified, “If God didn’t want us to have sex with boys than He wouldn’t have made is so desirable. Dontcha think?”
I just shrugged my shoulders and Joanna narrowed her eyes at me, “But don’t you think there’s some value in waiting. What happened to finding the right person?”
“That’s crap,” Margaret declared. “There’s no such thing as finding the right person.”
Before anyone could argue, the bell rang and we rose from our seats, pushing past the swarm of freshman I hurried to the door and out to history.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what Margaret had said. Was the right? Was there really no such thing as the right person? No use in waiting?
The memories from the summer came flooding back no matter how hard I tried to suppress them.
