Free Under the Peach Tree by Charlay Marie Page A

don’t love me?”
    He sighed, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “You know I love you, Hope, but—”
    â€œThen prove it to me. Momma ain’t gotta know. She ain’t never gotta know.”
    He shook his head. “No.”
    I nodded once and ran away. I heard him shouting for me but I didn’t care. I ran back into the house and into my room. I locked my door and threw myself on my bed and cried. I didn’t care about putting a pillow over my head to drown out the noise. I wanted to world to hear my pain. Rejection is cruel. I felt it from Momma, Grandma, and now John. I no longer wanted to live if love was not an option.
    John knocked on my door a few times that evening, but I ignored him. I ignored my sister’s phone call. I ignored the world.
    John had to love me. We were so close to each other, so open. He told me his secrets, ones no one else knew. We were closer than Momma and him. Even closer than Faith and me. I just knew I wasn’t being delusional.
    Somewhere along the night, I decided that I wasn’t going to give up. I knew John had to have wanted me too. I went into Momma’s bedroom where John slept while she was gone and crawled in next to him. He groaned in his sleep but kept snoring. I felt under the covers and placed my hand on his bare chest and journeyed down south. I had never touched a man like that before, but I’d have done anything for John.
    â€œJuanita . . .” he mumbled in his sleep, turning toward me. I scooted closer, kissing his neck, rubbing on him, feeling him get excited under my touch. “Juanita . . .” He reached for me, touching my breast, pulling me closer. I let out a moan and his eyes snapped open. “Hope!”
    â€œShh,” I said, scooting closer before he could protest. “Please. Just let it happen.” I started kissing his tensed neck, pulling his arms around me, pushing my hips to his. He groaned deeply, trying to resist the temptation, but I knew I’d won by the way his manhood responded. He finally gave in and began to undress me. I was beautiful girl; he wouldn’t have been able to resist for long.
    I let him remove my clothes, feeling victorious.
    â€œThis will be our secret,” I whispered.
    That next day, my body hurt in strange places, but it was a good kind of pain. I felt like a woman. I walked taller and with a purpose. My smile was wider. I felt loved and for the first time. When I had woken up, John was already out of the bed. I was slightly hesitant about what would happen between us after that night.
    I walked out of the room in my pajamas and saw John in the kitchen, making breakfast like usual. I shrugged. Maybe not much had changed. I took a seat at the kitchen table and waited for him to speak. He acted as if I weren’t there. I smirked, stood up, and wrapped my arms around him from the back. “You’re not talking to me?”
    He tensed but didn’t move. “Good morning.”
    â€œGreat morning . . . and night.”
    He sighed and turned to me. “Hope, what we did last night—”
    â€œWas amazing. It was the best gift of love you could give me.”
    â€œI don’t see it that way.” John looked torn and weary. I could see the darkness forming under his eyes.
    â€œThen change how you see it. What we did wasn’t wrong. What Momma don’t know won’t hurt and ain’t no point in regretting what you can’t change. Might as well embrace it.”
    â€œIt’s not going to happen again,” he said, and yet he didn’t move away from my touch. “Crushes from little girls should be innocent.”
    â€œI ain’t innocent and I ain’t every girl. Besides”—I laughed—“you just made me a woman.”
    He finally pushed my hands away from him and turned to face me. His face was serious. “Hope, it’s not going to happen again.” His words sounded final.
    Of course