Page 84 of Irish Betrayal

…PS~ Today was the last day of classes. And something weird happened. Kind of weird, like not a huge deal or anything.

His hands began to shake, the fingers tracing her words, unable to stay in the lines, and his mind screaming, begging that what he was thinking wasn’t true.

…I already knew all that, but my parents told me it’s rude to interrupt. I didn’t have anything to say anyway because Peter wasn’t wearing a SHIRT. I know he’s a guy and they always have their shirts off, but he’s my TEACHER, and he isn’t my DAD or BROTHER or Bébhinn’s brothers!

“That sonofabitch,” Daniel whispered as his eyes darted across the page.

I was about to start the process for myself after watching him do the second pot transfer when he told me that I should take my shirt off.

MY SHIRT!

He said that it was “hotter than hell” in the hothouse and that it would also save my shirt from getting dirty. He didn’t have any aprons small enough for me – that was embarrassing. But he did tell me that he preferred to go shirtless while he worked and not to worry. He said the girls at the gym wore a lot less than that.

I was wearing a sports bra even though I didn’t really need one, except that I do have nipples and they do get too pointy at times.

I tried to act nonchalant, but I know very well I looked like a hot, sweaty, red-cheeked hedgehog.

So, I did it. I took my shirt off. He didn’t even look at me and went back to work on his laptop, which made me more comfortable. And he was right. Women did wear a lot less at the gym.

And I’m just a young girl. So, it didn’t really matter anyway.

Daniel felt sick. So sick that he thought he might have to go to the toilet and vomit. This couldn’t be what he was thinking. Blair would have said.

The third book. Blair was thirteen.

…I think I might skip camp next summer. I know everything they teach anyway. Maybe Mom and Dad would let me go just to spend time with my friends.

…There were a few new kids in the program this year. They were really great, but he, Peter, thought it best that I didn’t befriend them.

It only got worse from there.

…I made the mistake of telling him that I have a crush on someone.

I know I’m weird for confiding in an adult like that, and one I only see a few weeks out of the year, but HE ASKED! And despite how old he is, he really cares about what I say.

He also texts me. A lot.

He sends me pictures of amazing plants and root rot and…his body. He says I’ll never reach the academic level I dream of if I focus only on plant systems.

He said I should know about the human body too.

When he asked me to send him a few of me…I did. It made me feel kind of sick. I don’t think I know my mom and dad wouldn’t like it, but he says all the most brilliant people in history have more than one area of interest.

The final words in that entry were, I just got a notification on my phone. Peter sent a new picture.

He went to the last journal. Blair was fourteen. His hands were shaking so bad he could barely open the cover. Her handwriting had changed, matured.

…He had me take my shirt off to see if my body had changed since last year. I was totally humiliated until he explained that most men don’t like women with such small breasts, and mine are small! But Peter prefers them just like mine.

…I don’t ever want anyone to know, not even my best friends, but he kissed me, and I liked it. I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust Peter. He rubbed my chest. It was awkward, but he really liked doing that.

Peter undressed completely so that I could see what a man looks like. He didn’t ask me to touch him, but what can I say? The scientist in me was curious.

He reminded me that no other man would find my small body attractive like he did. He never wants me to be ridiculed and made me promise that I won’t do these things with anyone else.

The final part was a punch to his stomach, and rage began to cloud his vision.

…My biggest secret is that I’ll never love Peter the way I love Daniel.