Deflowering Rose

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“I can’t believe you’re really back!” I cried, flinging my arms around my brother right where he stood in the doorway. “It seems like it’s been forever!”

My step-brother Alec, momentarily stunned by the display of affection, dropped his luggage and guitar case and reluctantly returned the hug. His hand awkwardly patted me on the back.

I pulled away, and punched him on the arm. “I missed you, asshole.”

“ What the hell, Rose?” He said in disbelief. Then he looked me over, cradling his bicep. “Are you really my little sister? I barely recognize you!”

He had been away for eight months, touring with his mildly successful band. And I had turned eighteen while he was gone, and was just about to finish school.

I laughed. “I know! I got the braces off finally.” And I smiled at him, striking a pose, showing my newly straight white teeth.

But that wasn’t all. I was what you’d call a late bloomer. When he’d left, I had been a petite, skinny, slightly nerdy girl. I’d been self-conscious of my teeth and my gawky body. Now all of a sudden, I had filled out in the hips and my breasts had grown full and soft — I was curvy where there had been no curves before. It suited me, as though I had finally grown into myself, and lent me a new sense of confidence. I’d let my blonde hair grow long for the first time, and of course the braces had come off my teeth.

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