Underaged

Listen to Avianca Jackson read her story:

They called him “Lil T,” but his real name was Tavon Q. Wesson. I was twelve and he was sixteen. He helped the basketball team players and the coach.

On a Sunday afternoon, I was in the bathroom dancing to my favorite song, “Roni” by Bobby Brown. I had left my bathroom towel in my bedroom. In my room, I saw my phone light up. It read, “One missed call” from a random number and an Instagram notification from Tavon that said, “Call me.” I called the number back and he answered.

“I got a question,” Tavon said.

“Ask,” I told him.

I had to keep asking him what he said because I couldn’t hear him. All I could focus on was if he was going to ask me to date him.

“I’ll ask you in person. Where you live at?” Tavon said.

“732 Youngs Road,” I said, wondering why he was trying to talk to me now.

“Okay, I’ll be there,” Tavon said.

I put on my yellow hoodie, black jeans, and some beige Timbs. There was still snow outside. I got a text from Tavon. “I want to hit, that’s why I called you.”

My heart sank to my stomach when I read that. I spotted him walking up the hill like a seagull on the beach. He wore a closed red jacket with a giant letter C on the left, skinny jeans the color of the ocean, and all-black Adidas low-tops.

He stood in front of me, and I stared in his huge brown eyes and asked, “Do you have a condom?”

“No,” Tavon said.

“Then we aren’t doing anything.” I walked away.

He grabbed my arm and squeezed it. “Please?” he said.

“Will you be my boyfriend if I do it?” I asked.

“Yeah, where we doing it at?” Tavon said.

“Let’s go behind my house,” I said. Tavon and I hid behind one of the doghouses so we couldn’t be seen. “Lay your coat down,” I told him.

He climbed on top of me. I looked up at the blue sky filled with white clouds. My mind roamed around about Tavon and me sitting next to each other in McDonalds, where the bus stopped on the way back from a game, talking about things we have in common. Him sticking it in back and forth like a razor slicing my insides brought me back to reality.

“It hurts,” I cried.

“Give me some head then.” Tavon got up.

I pulled up my pants, and he sat down next to me. While doing it, I threw up on him. He skedaddled to the river in the woods behind us. He was back there for a while. When he came back he said, “I gotta’ go. I’ll text you later.”

A few hours went by, and I still didn’t hear from him. I tried checking the messages, but his name wouldn’t come up.

He’d blocked me.

I went into the bathroom. I pulled my hood off my head and stared at my reflection in the mirror. A girl with light skin, hazel eyes, pink, plump lips, a small nose, and a huge forehead. I looked at her and thought, What have you done?

I never heard from him again.

Read the other prize-winning works from the Fourth Annual “Tell Me a Story” High School Contest:

Far from the Tree” by Chloe Green
Homecoming” by Uriel Acuna
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