Sibling Love Ch. 02

I can say now, without a doubt, that I have no regrets. I've had my first time, and I'm no longer a virgin. I'm glad I had it with someone so loving and gentle; I'm glad I had it with Kevin.

* * *

Dear Journal,

I'm not a virgin anymore. I suppose that's one of the pinnacle entries a typical teenage guy would make in his journal – his moment of glory – but for me, it brings mixed blessings. I'd have to say though, more positive than negative.

As you may have guessed, it was with Kyla – my sister. I don't regret that part because it was one of the most intimate and tender experiences of my life; so foreign to me and yet soright. As I said: I don't regret it. There is, however, a small knot in my stomach that seems to be telling me that I'm starting down a dangerous path; that what I'm doing is borne out of desire and nothing more. But then there are all kinds of desire. Lust is desire, but so is love – and I'm sure I love Kyla. There is no doubt in my mind about that.

I slept soundly last night, following the event itself. I hope that doesn't make me pig-headed to think of it as an 'event'. God knows I probably wasn't spectacular, but to me it really felt like a memorable occasion – one that, when I look back on it in years to come, will be one of the most important incidents responsible for shaping my life.

Of course, there are burdens as well: the burden that I can never admit, to anyone, who my first time was with; the burden that I will never be able to bring my lover home to meet my parents, both because it would destroy them and because...well, thisis her home. I guess complications are to be expected in any relationship though.

As I said, I slept soundly; better than I have in years. In the morning, I woke up with that 'something big has happened but I'm not sure what' feeling. Pleasant realisation began to trickle in eventually. The first thing I felt was an overwhelming urge to see Kyla, to ask her if she was all right, if she had slept well, if she had thought about what we'd done during the night. It wasn't exactly feasible though, so I opted for a visit to the shower instead.

I was hoping, post-shower, to see her downstairs before we left for school, but mum mentioned something about Kyla starting later today. Luckily, mum didn't seem to find my curiosity on the matter unusual.

So I walked to school and had a pleasant, if rather boring day. Once the final bell had rung and I'd visited my locker, I walked to the back gate that I usually exit from at the end of the day and found Kyla waiting for me. I got the feeling that she tried – and failed – to suppress the smile that lit up her face when she saw me. I can't tell you how it made me feel to know that I could make someone smile like that. It was like falling in love with her all over again.

I discovered then that something I really loved about her, and about being with her, was that unlike with other girls from school, or out of it, I was entirely comfortable with her. I mean, there are girls who I'm nervous around, and girls who I find I have nothing to say to, and there are also girls who I just can't stand to be around because they're so egotistical or slutty; but with Kyla, being nervous is okay because I know she's nervous too, and if we don't have anything to say, that's okay too, because the silence is always comfortable and relaxing. And I don't evenneed to say that she's not egotistical or slutty.

I fell into step beside her in a casual way that wouldn't arouse any suspicions. I guess I'm more paranoid now – thinking that the slightest touch or kind word could send out warning bells to a passing observer. I know I'm being stupid though – brothers and sisterscan be close without being intimate. I know I've read about it somewhere.

The walk was, to say the least, extremely pleasant. Just walking with her like that, catching sight of her bright little grin that seemed to claim a permanent spot on her beautiful face – it was nice. We spoke too, of course. I asked her how her day was.

"Good," she replied simply, beaming me a smile. "How was yours?"

"Good," I replied. Around that point I began to pay more attention to the backs of her knees, which were visible above her school socks. I like her legs.

We slipped into a comfortable silence, which was broken again by me.

"Did you sleep well last night?" I asked out of curiosity, which I tried to hide.

Kyla grinned at me. "Like a baby." I laughed a bit.

I noticed how close we were walking – hip to hip with our fingers occasionally brushing as our arms swung at our sides. I wanted more than anything to open my hand and close it around hers, but I abstained from doing so.

Spring is really showing its colours now and the weather is picturesque. I couldn't help but notice the soft tweets coming from the trees we walked under or the bright orange flowers that ran alongside us for most of the way. It seemed as though the background had been specially ordered for Kyla, emphasising every beautiful feature of her body.

When we arrived home, Kyla dropped her bag on the doorstep to search for her key. A creamy strip of bare skin showed itself between the bottom of her shirt and the waistband of her skirt as she bent down. I smiled to myself and looked away before she'd notice.

Inside the house, I realised for the first time that we were alone, and would be for another three hours at least. Kyla, I think, had already thought about it. She put her bag down beside the door and turned around, tapping her palms against her hips aimlessly.

"So..." she said. "Are you hungry?"

I slid my bag off my shoulder and dropped it next to hers. "Very," I said, taking a step towards her and encircling her slender waist in my arms. She looked pleased, draping her arms over my shoulders and turning her face up playfully. I lowered mine until our noses pressed together.

Slowly, I closed the distance between our lips and kissed her softly on the mouth. It was difficult though – she was smiling so broadly.

"What are you so happy about?" I asked. I was so close to her – our noses, chests, foreheads touching – that I could smell the scent of shampoo on her hair.

"I'm happy," she said, nudging my nose playfully with her own, "because last night I made love to the most wonderful guy in the world."

"Really?" I asked lightly. "And what did this guy look like?"

"Oh, young, handsome...about yay high," she rested her palm on top of my head.

"And you had fun with him?"

"Oh, yes."

"And if he asked for an encore?"

Kyla's smile widened. "I'd be happy to oblige." Once more our mouths met, this time in a more passionate lock of moist lips and probing tongues. Again there was a flutter inside my chest, which Kyla alone could produce.

I was just about to pick her up and carry her upstairs when she pulled her lips off mine and looked over my shoulder. She gasped. I turned around to see mum's car through the window, rolling into the driveway. We instantly sprang apart, Kyla smoothing her skirt down and me running the back of my hand across my mouth. After another few seconds, there was a rattling in the door of mum's keys turning in the lock, before she pushed it open and stepped through.

"Hi, kids," she said cheerfully as she noticed us. Straight away I knew she hadn't seen anything, and my heart returned to its normal place in my chest. Kyla, too, seemed to visibly relax. "Can you give me a hand with the groceries?" mum asked.

"I'll get them," I said, implying that Kyla didn't have to. She got the message and took her bag upstairs.

It turned out that business was slow this afternoon, so mum had decided to do some shopping instead. I can't help but feel we were lucky this time, and that we might not be the next. It was stupid to just drop everything and kiss like that in front of the door. We'll have to be very careful about what we do from now on. The idea of mum, or dad – or both – finding out is too horrible to bear. We just can't take that risk.

* * *

Dear Diary,

This afternoon Kevin and I were rudely interrupted when mum decided to come home early. I know it's not her fault and I know we should have known better than to do what we did in plain sight, but I still feel slightly angry. I was looking forward to being alone with Kevin for a while, maybe even making love again. With our first time behind us, I'm no longer craving the experience to an unhealthy extent; now, I want to take our time and explore different things. We won't get that chance though – not today and, according to Kevin, not very often.

I visited his room briefly after mum came home, while she was in the kitchen preparing some extravagant meal or other. I pushed his door open and found him reading a book on his bed. When he looked up, his expression was almost apologetic. I crossed the room quickly and knelt down beside his bed.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah, just a little shaken, I guess."

"She didn't see anything."

"No, but she might. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but one day she might."

"We'll be careful," I insisted. Kevin fixed me with a dubious look that softened eventually into reluctant acceptance.

"Very careful," he said. "It can't be every day and it can't be downstairs."

"Okay," I replied, and smiled. "I wasn't planning on every day anyway, you know."

"I know," said Kevin, going a little red. He looked rather cute.

I reached a hand up to touch his face and my lips too to kiss him. He pulled my hand gently away though. "We'd better not," he said. Disappointedly, I retracted my hand and left the room.

I agree with Kevin, of course – wedo have to be careful. And I know it's the best hope we have of making our relationship last, but it's still hard. I don't want to sit in my room alone, calculating the soonest possible time we can be alone together. It's almost like an addiction – I want to be close to him, close enough to feel his breath on my face and his eyelashes brushing against my cheek. I finally find the guy of my dreams and I can't be with him whenever I want. It's just not fair.

* * *

Dear Journal,

I have a feeling that Kyla thinks of this forced caution as unnecessary. She mopes whenever mum or dad are around, which is something I've very rarely seen her do; and once they leave the room – and that's all it takes – she'll hurry over to me and start to kiss me squarely on the lips until I tell her to stop. It's come to the point where I have topretend I hear mum walking back down the hall so that Kyla will take her hands off my neck and go back to her seat.

I'd be lying, though, if I said it wasn't hard for me too. Just looking into her pretty little face makes me want to pick her up, carry her upstairs and lock the door, before I slowly undress her and kiss my way all over her body and thisreally isn't helping.

I should also mention thespiteful looks Kyla gives mum whenever she interrupts us. Shereally doesn't like to be disturbed when she has her mind on those things.

What I realise after writing all of this down is that this relationship – if that's what it is – isn't exactly smooth sailing. We have to hide so often and plan out the times when we think we'll get to be alone together. I've started worrying about things like Kyla's perfume sticking to me or my sheets; creases appearing all over our clothes even though mum's only been out of the room for a few minutes; even hickeys have become a possibility.

I'm certainly not saying that itbothers me to go to all these lengths just to secure a few minutes to ourselves. Kyla is worth it, I know that. But I'm just worried about how...attached she's becoming to the whole idea. She has to realise that things won't necessarily get better. We can move out and we can meet up in out of the way places but it'll never get easier. It'll never be normal relationship. And I don't think Kyla sees that, so I have to. I just don't want to see her life ruined because of me.

* * *

Dear Diary,

When you're in love with someone there are three little words you long to hear (I love you) and four that you hope you'll never hear (we have to talk). I've heard all of them from Kevin now.

I was sitting on my bed after school, flipping through one of my schoolbooks and thinking about Kevin as usual, when he came into my room and shut the door quietly behind him.

"Hey," he said distractedly, his eyes refusing to settle on one spot.

"Aren't mum and dad..." I asked, trailing off.

"They went out," Kevin replied.

I spilt into a grin and leapt up off the bed. In an instant my arms were around his neck and my lips all over his face. There was a reluctance in him though. "Kyla, wait," he said, gently taking hold of my arms until I took a step back.

"What is it?" I asked, searching his face.

"We have to talk," he said, and then my heart melted.

"Talk?" I asked in a tiny voice. "About what?"

"About us."

I was breathing very fast now, my stomach twisting into knots. "What about us?"

"Sit down," he said, taking a step towards the bed.

"No!" I said firmly, refusing to move. "If you have something to say, then say it."

He stopped and looked back at me, fiddling with his fingers. He sighed heavily. "I don't think this is going to work."

And that's when it felt as though the floor had fallen away beneath me, as though I was tumbling into a huge, empty void. He couldn't be saying what I thought he was saying. Heloved me!

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean you and I," he replied. "Us. It won't work."

I could feel tears then, threatening to overwhelm me. I held them off with every ounce of strength I had. "Why not?"

"Because of what we have to do," he said. "We can't keep hiding from people and scavenging a few spare moments to ourselves. We can't stay indoors forever and never tell people how we feel about each other. It just won't work."

"Itwill!" I said, taking a step forward and clutching his arms. "It will. We'll make it work."

His expression was full of pain. "Kyla," he said, "you're not looking at the bigger picture. You think it's simple now but it won't be forever. You'll grow up and you'll want more than this. You'll want someone who you can take to the movies and show your friends; someone who you can kiss in public and have children with."

"Children?" I said incredulously. "Don't you think that's a bit premature? Who said I wanted kids?"

"You might not," Kevin replied. "Not now, anyway. But you will one day. One day you'll want to start a family and you'll want all those other things too...and I can't give them to you."

I clutched his arms more tightly – as tightly as I possibly could. I put my chest against his so that not a sliver of space existed between us. I tried desperately to communicate to him what I felt. It was like one of those horrible dreams where someone you love is leaving you and no matter how hard you scream or how much you plead with them they won't stay.

"I don't care about any of those things," I said earnestly. "I'd rather live like this with you than like that with anyone else. Ilove you."

"You do now," said Kevin. "But you might not tomorrow."

I recoiled as though he had slapped me. "How can yousay that? You think love is just something that starts and then stops again? You think I would confess it to you if I weren't sure? Iam sure, Kevin. I love you and nothing will ever change that. I won't everstop loving you."

"Don't," he said, his face torn apart by pain. "Please, don't do this."

"I have to," I said, squeezing his arms and digging my fingers in so that it would hurt him. "I can't just walk away from you like that. And if you can, then maybe you don't...."

"I do," he replied firmly, almost angrily. "You think this is easy for me? You think Iwant to be apart from you? I don't! Not for a second. But this is something I have to do – for your sake."

"If you cared about me at all," I said, looking into his eyes, "you wouldn't do this."

He stopped short. "That's not fair"

"And you think what you're doing to me is?"

"I'm doing itfor you!" he said loudly, making me jump.

"Well, I don't want it!" I yelled. "I don't want you to do that for me. If you want to stop what we're doing,fine! Break up with me then. Tell me you don't love me. But don't pretend that you're doing this for me because it'snot what I want." I swiped angrily at the tears in my eyes, wishing that I could keep my face as straight as Kevin's. I felt like I was going to collapse. I couldn't stay like that. I wanted him either to leave or to take a step forward and catch me; to hold me and promise me he would never say anything like that again.

"Kyla...."

"No!" I said resolutely. "Don't say anything else. I don't care about the things you think I want. I don't care about other people. You can tell me that you don't want to be with me, but if you do then you can't ever tell me you love me again and I won't ever forgive you."

His gaze hit the floor and his shoulders sagged. I could see how much he was hurting and how agonising this was for him. I wanted so badly to reach out and hug him, but I wasn't going to – not until he gave me an answer. I was trembling so hard, waiting for his words. If he told me it was over, that he could live without me and without my forgiveness – I was sure I'd die. There was no way I could keep living after that. No way in the world.

At last, he looked up. "That's really what you want?" he asked.

"That's what I want."

"Even though you'll never have a normal life and you'll never be able to share what we have with anyone else?"

"Yes."

He sighed again. "Then...I guess I don't have a choice." My teeth were chattering, my bottom lip quivering. Slowly, he smiled. A weak, bone-weary smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I love you," he said.

Before he'd even finished saying the words I was rushing forward and throwing my arms around him, sobbing like mad on his shoulder. "Don't youever do that to me again," I cried. "Ever, ever."

"I'm sorry," he said, putting a hand on the back of my head and burying his face against my neck. I held him as fiercely as I'd ever held anything in my life – like a child protecting a beloved toy or a lioness guarding her cub. I held him so tightly my fingers were white and my chest was in pain from pressing so strongly against his – but I didn't care.

I raised my face enough to plant dozens of quick kisses all over his neck. "I don't ever want you to leave me," I said. "If you do, I'll die."

He lifted his face and kissed me on the lips, my legs turning to jelly. His arms went around my back and legs and lifted me off the ground. He carried me to the bed and laid me down gently; I pulled him down on top of me. I was hurt and sad and relieved, but I knew exactly what I wanted – what I needed. I was unzipping his fly as he kissed my neck. My breathing was feverish; I couldn't relax until I had him inside me.

He raised the sheets and put them over us. Outside, the sky was dark, the first few stars of the night twinkling into existence. The room was bathed in shadow and there was hardly any moonlight moonlight, but I could see Kevin as clearly as if his image had been burned into my eyes.

"Quick," I said, panting. "I want you inside me."

Still kissing me, he bunched my skirt up around my waist and slid my panties down my legs. I grabbed his back and pulled him forward, gasping over his shoulder as he entered me. I exhaled a long, contented breath. Once he slid all the way inside me, my breathing was normal again.

Most of our clothes were still on but it felt like we were closer than ever before. We lay down with our heads on the pillow, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Kevin was on top of me so I turned my head to the side and stared at the wall, clutching his shoulder blades. His face was buried in the crook of my neck and I couldn't see it but I couldfeel him inside me, filling me up wholly and completely just as he was filling my heart. The pleasure was immense but so was the emotional pain I felt. I held him desperately, sobbing against him.