Eva

Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.

I am sitting in ninth period study hall, watching the clock.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of white fly through the air. A folded up piece of paper lands on my desk.

Hey, you've been really quiet lately. Are you OK?

I sigh and look over at Eva. She's studiously reading her history text, but I can see the concern in her eyes.

Just a little under the weather.

I pass the note surreptitiously back to her. I watch her unfold it and read. She nervously chews on the end of her ballpoint pen.

Jacob called. He wants to get back together.

Surprised, I turn my head to look at her, but she is staring straight ahead, her face betraying nothing.

What are you going to do?

I don't know. I know he broke my heart, but I still love him.

Love. I knew that things were serious between them, they went out for a year after all, but I had no idea that she

loved

him.

All of my hopes for a possible relationship with Eva fly out the window. What had happened between us really was nothing but what it was, a drunken mistake.

For the rest of the period, I stare intently at the chalkboard, ignoring Eva, fighting tears.

The moment the bell rings, I am out the door, running to the gym. Despite my heart being wrenched out of my chest, I still have volleyball practice, just like every other day.

Two hours later, I drive home, mentally and physically exhausted. I trudge through the front door and into the kitchen.

Instead of seeing my mother cooking dinner, as I expect, I see her sitting at the island, chatting with a vaguely familiar man.

They hear my footsteps and look up, startled.

"Hi, mom."

"Hello, honey! How was school today?"

Her eyes are nervous as they dash from me to him and back again.

"Good, I guess. Hey, Uncle Joe."

"Uncle Joseph is here for the weekend, isn't that wonderful? You know we haven't seen each other much since I moved out here to New York. You know, I don't think my mother ever did get over me marrying your father."

While my mother continues babbling nervously, I look over at Joseph. He is tall and strong. Rugged and dark, many women would consider his features handsome. I don't. The way his sharp blue eyes look at me is cold, lacking the warmth necessary to make such color friendly, like Eva. When he smiles at me, it is nothing more than a smirk.

My mother's only sibling, Joseph is two years younger than she is. Apparently, when they were kids, they were very close. Nonetheless, my mother had a tense relationship with her parents and married my father the minute she turned eighteen. She left the state and never came back.

That is why I had never met my grandparents. Every few years Uncle Joe would show up for Christmas, but I never really got to know him. He just rubs me the wrong way.

I quickly excuse myself and walk upstairs to the shower.

I turn on the water as hot as it will go, relishing the faint burn it causes on my tender skin. The steaming water is cathartic for me and I allow the pounding jets to work out all of the stress in my back and shoulders.

As the steam rises in tendrils off the shower floor, so my visions of Eva rise as well. I allow the memories to envelop me as I unconsciously smooth soap in lazy circles over my skin.

I fondle my breast as I recall her scent, so full and enthralling. My hand circles lower and lower, massaging my smooth belly.

I close my eyes and lean back against the wall, my flushed skin jumping in contact with the cold tiles.

My dark hair lies heavy and wet upon my breast, sharp in contrast to my recollections of Eva's honeyed strands.

As my hand drifts down to caress my slit, I imagine that it is not I, but Eva who touches me there. Her slender fingers stroke me gently as she leans her head against my shoulder and whispers in my ear.

"So soft, my darling. So sweet."

Alone in my shower, I moan in ecstasy and spiral up towards heaven. As I reach my climax, I cry out her name and sink to the floor.

Reality crashing down on me, my face crumples and tears threaten to spill onto my cheeks.

Long minutes pass as I fight a losing battle to my tears, until I finally pull myself together and step out of the shower.

Pulling a towel around me, I stare into the fogged up mirror. My dark brown eyes are bloodshot, making my lily-white skin look even paler, wan even. Unshed teardrops glisten on my dense lashes, causing them to flutter and clump together.

As my eyes float lower, I drop the towel to view the rest of me.

The stress of the last few weeks has not been kind to me. My figure, normally lithe, is skirting on unhealthy. Already prominent, my collarbones and shoulder blades stick and jut out with every movement.

The full but modest swell of my bosom distracts from my delicate figure usually, but has deflated with my recent weight loss.

I look sick.

It is just this moment when the bathroom door swings open. I shriek and grasp my towel around me.

My Uncle Joseph, beet red, quickly slams the door shut with a muttered apology.

In a few minutes, when my heart rate has returned to normal, I dress and go downstairs for dinner, unable to meet my uncle's eyes.

Three days later, Eva calls to tell me she has taken Jacob back. Again, I remind her of how he broke her heart, but she is deaf to me.

"Won't you please just have dinner with us? Jacob's really changed."

I sigh. She keeps saying that, but somehow I can't believe her.

"You know how I feel about him."

"I know, but won't you just do this for me? It would mean so much to me if the two people I cared most for in the world cared for each other too."

Our conversation continues along this vein for another few minutes until I finally give in. I always do. We make plans to have dinner together, the three of us, the next Saturday.