And I Never Said I Was Sorry.

TW: Self-harm, SA.

I don't mean to hurt her, honest. Really, it's the nerves that make me act strangely. She's so unabashedly charming; it makes me so afraid of making a fool of myself that I do it inadvertently.

We met our junior year. I was sitting beside Mikey. Mike. I keep forgetting he wants to ditch the nickname. We had an assembly, but I can't remember what it was for. All I remember was the stress it caused me and others, I'm sure. As juniors, our biggest worry was preparing for college. My older brother got into the ivy leagues. He could be the valedictorian if he didn't have a penchant for parties. But even still, they are big shoes to fill.

I was focusing on the wood paneling of the auditorium when I saw her for the first time. She was with the cross-country girls. She'd always tell me she joined the team more to make friends and less to compete. But she was pretty good. She made the varsity cut at least. I thought her hair was red at first, but it must have been the lighting. Her hair sort of straddles a line between blonde and brown.

"Mike, who is that girl?" I leaned towards him and pointed towards her.

He squinted. I never knew why they kept the lights so dim in there before the assembly even began. "That's Amelia. She has chem with me. She's from Virginia."

I sought her out after the assembly let out. I thought I'd lost her, but I caught up with her in the hallway. "Hey, it's Amelia, right?"

She looked as if I'd asked her to strip in the middle of the hallway. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes got wide. But she did answer. "That's me." Even her voice was pretty.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" I laughed, hoping I played it off well. "I just saw you in the auditorium and thought you were really pretty."

She tilted her head to the side with a little smile, "Oh, well thank you. What's your name?" I could tell she was from Virginia. It wasn't overt, but there was a twinge of a southern accent in the way she spoke.

"Daniel," I said. And I regret it now, but I stuck my hand out to shake hers. She took my hand firmly. I didn't think about it until after, but that may have been the weakest handshake I've given in my life. "This might seem abrupt, but would you like to go out with me sometime?" My brother told me that being forward was the best method, but I could tell I caught her off guard again.

"Sorry, but we just met," she said with a little laugh. It wasn't mean, but I was still a little hurt. I think she could read it on my face, because she was quick to add to her previous statement. "I would, but my daddy wouldn't let me. Because, you know, you're a boy." The left side of her mouth quirked up a little as if she and I were sharing some private joke.

The warning bell rang, and we went our separate ways. Maybe I took it the wrong way, but I found it unfair to her that her father wasn't letting her date; she was a junior!

Looking back on it all, she spent a lot of time apologizing about her dad. He didn't let her do anything, especially not with a guy. He was the old school Christian type who valued their daughter's virtue in a borderline creepy way.

Eventually, after bumping into each other a few times in the hall, she agreed to meet with me to go for a jog around the campus of a local college on a Saturday afternoon. She hadn't told her dad.

A jog was not my idea of a good first date, but to get out of the house without suspicion, she said we were out of other options. I like to run a little bit. I'd go a few times a week, so I wasn't too worried about it.

She showed up in a light blue jacket and leggings, something I'd never seen her wear before. They were flattering. "Daniel!" She waved. Even though I'd already seen her, I waved back and jogged over as if I had just spotted her.

"Good to see you!" I grinned. Tentatively, I stepped forward to give her a hug and, to my delight, she let me. It was an awkward side hug, but I would take it.

We ran slowly around the campus. She said she only wanted to get to five miles. It was getting cold, and the fog had begun to seep through the trees and over the pathways.

She told me all about Virginia. She had a tomboyish disposition, but a girly face and voice. It was the perfect combination.

I convinced her to get ice cream with me from the local shop, Cal's, despite the cold. She agreed but only because it was on the way to her house. She let me drive her there even though the walk would have taken maybe five minutes. I had an old Toyota, but it ran pretty well. Well enough.

It squeaked when I rolled to a stop at a traffic light. "I'm taking it in to fix that noise," I apologized. It was hardly impressive.

"You just need new brake pads," she chuckled.

I turned to her with a little bewilderment, "that's what the mechanic told me. I'm waiting until he gets the new pads in. How did you know that?"

"I try to know a little bit about everything," Amelia confessed with a shrug. Her cheeks were turning pink.

We got ice cream. I always order butter pecan, but when she saw the flavor on the menu, she wrinkled her nose. "I hate butter pecan. It doesn't taste like either of those flavors."

I didn't tell her I liked the flavor. I ordered black cherry instead. We sat in my car for a few minutes. The parlor was a little too crowded and it was too chilly to sit outside. I told her that I played violin. Her eyes lit up. She didn't play it, but she played the piano and the flute. “I find the violin such a romantic instrument.” She laughed.

For a first date, it began a little unconventionally I suppose, but it turned out well.

Amelia told me she loves listening to music, so I gave her the aux cord and asked her to play some songs. She pulled up some little-known artist. Jonathan something, I think his name was. And to my delight, she even sang along. I adored her voice when she spoke, but when she sang it was near ethereal. If I didn’t want to date her before, I sure did now.

“Can I kiss you?” I blurted before I could think better of it. We were sweaty from the jog and my lips were completely chapped from the wind, but I couldn’t have imagined a better time.

I expected another rejection, but she didn’t say anything. She closed her eyes and let me do the rest.

Of course, her dad found out about our date. She avoided me at school the next week. Even my texts went unanswered. Our school had a zero-phone policy, so I didn’t know if her dad had taken it or not, and I only caught a glance of her before she’d disappear into the crowd.

It made me worried. I hoped I hadn’t gotten her into serious trouble, but did she really have to avoid me at school? We kissed. Did she not want to talk about it? Had she hated it?

She texted me on Saturday. She’d told her dad about the date. Her dad wanted to talk to me.

I tried to joke. Do I need to ask permission to date you? I thought it was funny. But no more than a couple minutes later, she sent back one word: Yes.

We made arrangements for the following day. Amelia met me at the door and gave me a hug. “Thanks for doing this. My dad is a little overprotective.”

I met her two younger brothers and her little sister. Her mom was sweet too. Her dad smiled, but I could tell that it was only for Amelia’s benefit. He was an intimidating guy. I think he knew it. He stood at almost six and a half feet tall and wore an old T-shirt from his days in the military. He had a buzz cut and a couple scars on his face.

He invited me into his study. Amelia was not allowed to join us. He gave me the typical speech about how Amelia was his daughter and that I’d need to treat her well. He asked about my faith. I answered honestly. My parents were Catholics, but I was still exploring my options. Agnostic. He didn’t like that answer. He wanted Amelia to date a Christian man. But eventually he said I could take Amelia on dates as long as she was back by 11 pm. 9 pm on school nights.

Amelia and I spent every moment her dad allowed us to. I started to wait for her after her cross-country practice. She even began to come to my house after school to do homework with me. I guess that’s where things went wrong.

She was alright with hugs, but she didn’t let me kiss her often. Especially not at her own house. She was always looking over her shoulder for her dad. But even at my house, they were always the lightest kisses.

We sat on the floor of my basement on the beige rug my parents had just put in. She was kicking my butt in a card game, and I leaned over and kissed her. She giggled.

“You always laugh when we kiss. Does it tickle or something?” I smiled at her. I loved when her face flushed. The bridge of her nose, her cheeks and her ears all turned hot pink.

“It tickles a little,” she said, tracing her finger through the grooves of the corduroy couch she leaned on.

“You can kiss me harder,” I said, stumbling over my words a little. I scooted over to sit next to her.

She obliged and put a little more pressure against my lips.

“Open your mouth a little,” I said with a laugh.

“N—no!” She laughed. But it was a nervous laugh.

I sat back. I couldn’t hide the frown. A hug always stayed a hug. A little kiss always stayed a little kiss with her. “Amelia, we’ve been dating for months now. I thought you’d be a little more comfortable around me.”

She shrugged, sensing the change. “It’s just that my dad—”

“Enough about your dad.” It was probably more forceful than it needed to be. “I don’t care what he wants. What do you want?”

She was quiet, looking at her hands. “I want to be a normal teenager.”

She let me kiss her hard. She let me put my hands under her clothes. I didn’t realize she was crying until I had two fingers on the button of her jeans.

“Please stop, Daniel.” She whispered.

I stopped. But it happened again and again. She’d kiss me. I tried to let it be enough for me. But I wanted more. It always made her cry.

In December of our senior year, she took half a bottle of acetaminophen. Her mom called the ambulance in time to save her. We broke up a month later.

She’s married now to a man her dad handpicked for her. She’s even got two kids.

My biggest regret is not saving her. I could have shown her that she had the right to choose her own path, but I hurt her. And I never said I was sorry.