The years have passed.

Scars are not always visible. Sometimes, they live in the form of silence, of broken dreams that visit us at night... like the nightmare that Olga still drags from that damned night in the forest.

She knows it.

She knows what her father did.
She knows that he and Dusty killed a man.
And that they never...ever...mentioned it again.

The voices of guilt don't scream. They whisper. Especially when you're alone.

Now Olga is a teenager with a calm gaze, a soft voice and a restless soul. Her life has become a delicate balance between the obedience they expect of her... and the freedom she dreams of.

 

She loves yoga, aromas, contact with the human body. She wants to be a masseuse.
But her parents...
- “A girl like you should study business.”
-“Massage doesn't pay for college.”

 

So she takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and nods. Like always. Like a good daughter.

Her best friend, Samia, on the other hand, is the opposite.
Daughter of Amina, the uncrowned queen of the neighborhood, Samia is an unapologetic bad bitch.
She smokes at recess, makes out with two different boys a week, and when she walks down the hallways, everyone turns around.
Next to her, there's always Anabell, Dusty and Dawn's daughter. Popular, provocative, dangerous.
The three of them get along well... but they're not the same.

Olga is something else.

And then there's him.
Rusty.
Her confidant.
Her grounding cable.
Her laughter on gray days.

Since they were kids, they've shared secrets, games, long looks that no one else understands. Now, as teenagers, they remain inseparable.
What Olga doesn't know is that Rusty is madly in love with Samia.
But Samia would never notice someone like him.
Too nerdy. Too real.
And he knows it.

That afternoon, while they're doing homework together, Rusty drops the bombshell on her:

- "They've opened a new spa downtown. They're looking for people."

Olga looks up, excited.

-“Really?”

 

- "You'd do well there. You're all about touch. Relaxation. The good vibes."
-“My parents would kill me...”
- "You can go in as a model first. So they can see what you can do."

She laughs. Olga does too. He always manages to make her laugh.
She accepts.

The spa is scented with lavender and Japanese flute music.
They are greeted by Cassandra, an elegant woman with painted lips and a sly look.
Rusty runs happily in his white robe.

Free massages! Hahaha!"

Olga laughs. She always does.
Until, for an instant, she watches him from another angle.

So happy. So innocent. So close.
And yet...
He's never told her what happened in the woods.

- “Olga, are you okay?”
She blinks.

 

- “Shall I lie down now?” -Rusty jokes, pointing to the gurney. “I'm ready, my star masseuse.”

She smiles and begins.
Her hands run down Rusty's back with a confidence he didn't know he had.
Rusty sighs, moans low. The warmth of skin. The absolute trust.

Cassandra watches from the doorway and nods approvingly.

-"You're a natural. You're hired by the time you finish high school."

Rusty claps exaggeratedly from the table.

- “I want this massage every day! Free, of course!”

Cassandra laughs. Then she looks at Olga:

- “Come, sign some papers in the office while your friend gets dressed.”

Olga signs the pseudo-contract with her hands shaking with excitement.
She feels... happy. Capable. Free.

She runs down the hall to tell Rusty the news.
He opens the living room door without thinking.

And then...

Time stands still.

Rusty's back is turned.
Standing in front of the small mirror.
The robe open.
Hand moving urgently.
Phone in the other.
The moans.
Her choked voice saying “Samia...” between her teeth.
Her body shaking with desire.

Olga freezes.
Her eyes widen.
She can't move.
She can't think.

The boy who made her laugh.
Her confidant.
Her refuge.

...She masturbates with the image of another.

She doesn't make a sound.
She doesn't breathe.
She doesn't tremble.

She just closes the door.
Gently.
In complete silence.

And walks away down the corridor.

Without saying a word.

 

That night, Olga found it hard to sleep. Between the excitement of her new job and the unexpected discovery of Rusty...her best friend...in such an intimate and surprising situation with Samia, her mind couldn't find rest.
He never told me anything... I guess we all have secrets.

The next morning, at school, Olga couldn't hide her excitement. She told Samia everything, even about Rusty as her first massage model.

-Rusty? -laughed Samia disdainfully. That nerd sure is a virgin.
-Hey, stop it! -Olga replied, offended. He's my best friend, Samia. Don't mess with him.

 

 

Samia had changed. She was no longer that somewhat shy girl who told him about her insecurities. Along with Anabell, Rusty's sister, they had become the popular ones. Girls with the haughty look, the easy laugh, the words that could cut like razors.

-Well, let's celebrate, shall we? -Samia said mischievously. Remember Devon? He moved here... and he asked me about you.

Olga stood still. Devon. That boy with the crooked smile she'd met on vacation in the woods. She remembered him with a certain nostalgia, like an adolescent sigh that was left floating among pine trees and shooting stars.

That night, they met at the bar. The first to arrive were Rusty and Olga, and perhaps because of nerves -or the desire to feel bigger than they were-, they began to drink more than they should. Olga took the opportunity to ask Rusty about Samia, but he didn't say a word. He just looked at her with those big, intense eyes... full of something she still couldn't decipher.

Samia arrived accompanied by Devon. Tall, confident, with that air of a guy who's had too much and still wants more. When he saw Olga, his eyes lit up.

-You look beautiful," he said as he hugged her. Olga blushed, not quite knowing how to respond to a compliment she hadn't expected.

-Leave them alone," Samia murmured to Rusty.
Rusty, cup in hand, offered Samia another, but she declined.
-Your sister is my friend, but you... What would they think if they saw me with a freak like you?

Rusty rolled his eyes. He said goodbye to Olga without looking her in the eye.
-Are you staying? -he asked in a quiet voice.
-Yes..." Devon answered for her, not even looking at him.

 

With each encounter, Devon seemed more enchanted with Olga. He liked her hearty laugh, her curious eyes, the way she blushed when he complimented her.

-You're different..." he whispered to her one night at the fair, with the lights swirling around them and the air scented with cotton candy. I'm tired of girls who are perfect on the outside but empty on the inside. You... you make me want to stay.

Olga smiled. Something in her chest stirred. She believed him. She wanted to believe him.

 

They began an intense relationship, impulsive on his part, cautious on hers. Olga wanted to go slowly. Not because she didn't want it...but because she was a virgin, and her body, though curious, was not yet ready.

Devon insisted, gently at first, then with some disguised anxiety.
-Don't you love me? -he whispered as he stroked her back.
-Yes... but I'm afraid.

 

One night, in the privacy of her bedroom, she let herself go. Devon's voice was a lullaby.

-We're alone, baby," he said, as his hands gently ran down her thighs.

Olga closed her eyes. She felt her skin ignite under his caresses, she shivered, but not from cold. It was all new. Her breathing was becoming ragged, and her heart was pounding.

Devon kissed her slowly, as if each kiss was a promise. His hand slipped between her legs, and as he touched her he felt her wetness. She tensed, he smiled.

 

-You're ready...

Olga opened her eyes, meeting his. There was desire, yes... but also something else. Something she couldn't read.

He leaned close to her ear and whispered:
-It's going to be okay...

She felt it at the entrance of her body. Olga held her breath. The pain was stabbing, but she said nothing. He held her hand, moving slowly, until a high-pitched moan escaped her lips. Devon shuddered.

-Fuck, baby... you're perfect.

 

Olga didn't know whether to cry or moan. It was a strange mix... between fear and pleasure. Between surrender and doubt. Every movement was an unanswered question.

Devon sped up, and she felt it deeper, stronger. Their bodies moved to the rhythm of her gasping breaths.

-I'm... I'm coming," he whispered, his eyes closed.