Jacob put his finger to my forehead and told me to close my eyes while he did this, but I just had to have a look. I looked up at him and realized he had his eyes closed, but in pain. I kept my gaze focused on his eyes as they lowered closer and closer to my eye level. Soon enough, he looked like an exact copy of me. I had to scooch closer as his arm shortened; he hadn’t warned me about that.
He opened his eyes to look at me. “Did you watch it all?” he asked me in my own voice. I didn’t expect how much I would hate the sound of my own voice.
“Yeah, why didn’t you tell me it was that painful?”
“You might say no.”
I brushed the hair off his face and looked him in the eye. My own reflection danced in his eyes. Suddenly, the recital didn’t feel like such a big deal, and a tremendous amount of guilt hit me. I was putting my boyfriend through all this pain because I hadn’t felt like practicing; I felt so childish. I had to look away, sobbing slightly with my face in my hands.
All the guilt instantly melted away when I looked back up at Jacob. It looked like he was too busy fondling my boobs to even remember all the pain he just went through.
“Wow, I’ve never gotten to be a girl before. I’ve only ever tried this with my brother or my friends. Why do they hurt when I squeeze? Are you on your period or something? I heard they hurt when you’re on your period.”
“They probably hurt because you’re manhandling them, literally,” I finished with emphasis as I slapped his hands away. “How about instead of using those little fingers for mischief, you get them practicing? It’s not going to feel the same as before.”
This time it was Jacob’s turn to roll his eyes. He picked up the violin and played a quick melody that was years ahead of my current level.
His smug look was infuriating.
“See, these little fingers have plenty of time for mischief.”
