We are stretched out on the floor, lying close to each other, listening to Boyz II Men sing about love. The only light in the room comes from a streetlight, filtered through drapes. I have my hand under Tracy’s sweater, feeling the warmth and smoothness of her skin, below her bra. I move my hand up, to feel her breast. She moves my hand back down where it was. I kiss her, long.
“I can’t get enough of you,” I say. “I love you so much—I want to be with you in a way I’ve never been with anyone else.” I look into her eyes, searching for the answer I want to see.
“Oh, Josh. I love you so much it scares me.”
“Don’t be scared. Don’t be scared. I’ll watch out for you,” I say, kissing her again, moving closer, holding her tight to me. “Look,” I say, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the foil-wrapped condom. “It’ll be okay. I love you,” I whisper, moving my hand up, slightly, closer to the place I’m longing to touch.
“Josh,” she says, moving away from me, letting a space come between us. “I’m not ready. I’m sorry. I love you, but. . .” She is crying now.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” God, I hate when people cry. I put my hand up to her face and feel her tears. What am I supposed to do now?
“I don’t want to lose you. I’m just not ready, you know? When I am ready, I want it to be you.”
“God. I’m ready,” I say.
“I know,” she says, resting her head on my shoulder. “And I really want to make you happy. And I want to be closer to you, as close as I can get. But I’ve thought and thought about it, and it just isn’t time for me yet.”
I sigh and put the condom back in my pocket.
“You probably won’t love me anymore, will you?” she says, getting all teary-eyed again.
“I can’t imagine not loving you,” I tell her. “I think I might love you even more, if I could be with you in that way. But I can wait.”
With this she starts crying again. I mean sobs, like a kid. “I was so afraid I’d lose you.”
I hold her close and listen to the music as she gradually stops crying. I am about to burst with wanting her, but when it happens I want it to be right for both of us. And like they say in the Safe Sex talks at school, nobody ever died of an unsatisfied hard-on.
“Go get us some sodas, will you?” I whisper to her. “Let’s watch TV for a while.” I turn the stereo off, turn on this improv comedy show. These guys are really funny, and pretty soon Tracy and I are both laughing so hard we can hardly talk. I stay until about three in the morning.
“Call me if you get scared,” I say.
“I’m fine,” she says. She gives me the world’s sweetest kiss, and I leave.
I think Uncle Tweetie is asleep when I sneak back into my room, but just as I pull the covers up over me he says, “You been with that Tracy girl?”
“Yes,” I say. “She was afraid to stay alone, so I stayed with her for awhile.”
“You oughta have your tail jerked in a knot,” he says.
“Why?” I don’t even know what that means, but it can’t be nice.
“Because if’n you don’t marry her, she’s gonna get away from you, and then where’ll you be? Soon as I fell for Chickee, I married her. Smartest thing I ever did, and I’ve done some pretty smart things in my time. Don’t think I haven’t.”
“I’m too young to get married,” I say, turning on my side, away from him.
“Hogwash,” he says. “If’n you’re too young for marriage, you’re too young to be lettin’ your bull loose in her pasture.”
“My bull’s not loose in her pasture,” I laugh. “He’s still in the pen.”
“Thank the Lord. Me’n Chickee been piecin’ on that ever since I woke up and saw you was gone. We both know no good comes from a quick romp in the pasture. Now a union blessed by God, that’s somethin’ that’ll last you forever, not wear out by the end of spring.”
“Didn’t you ever, you know, want to . . . you know, let your bull loose before you and Chickee were married?” God, I can’t believe he’s got me talking this way.
“OOOIE, Son. I was on fire from the time I was twelve—on the farm, seein’ the animals and the crops live their natural lives and I had to keep ever’thing all held in. OOOIE, I know that ain’t easy. But it’s kindly like the difference between the easy way, plowin’ shallow and gettin’ a puny crop, or plowin’ deep and true, and gettin’ a plentiful crop, livin’ in abundance through the whole winter, with plenty left to sell . . . You asleep?”
“Almost.”
“Sometimes I don’t know when to stop talkin’.”
“No, it’s okay. I like your stories,” I say.
“Well, good night, Son. I expect it’s close to daylight.” “Good night, Uncle Tweetie,” I say, turning on my side and letting my mind drift back across the street to Tracy.
I hear Uncle Tweetie say, “Good night, Chickee.”
I swear, I practically say goodnight to Chickee, too. I’ve heard
Uncle Tweetie talk to her so much she’s beginning to seem real to me. I wonder if I could get Dad to let me partition off part of the garage and put my bed out there? I asked him once and he said no, but if he hears me starting to talk to dead women, maybe he’ll change his mind.
The truth is, though, old Uncle Tweetie has sort of grown on me. I’m still not wild about sharing my room with a spit can, or being awakened at dawn, every day, seven days a week, but I can’t help liking him. And he and Chickee have given me plenty to think about.
Just before Thanksgiving holiday I come dragging in from school, loaded down with the books I need to get caught up on my homework. I toss my backpack on the bed, then go to the kitchen for a snack. Uncle Tweetie is sitting in the living room with his suitcase and his snuff can beside him.
“What’s going on?” I say.
“Well, Son, I’ve got to be going home soon. I’m going to spend a few days with Vee and then get back to where I belong.”
“But how will you get along, alone?”
“I’ll be fine,” he says. “Does it look to you like I cain’t take care of myself?”
“No,” I say, looking at his wrinkled, wiry old body and his broad smiling face.
“I’m more worried about what’ll become of you. I hoped at least I’d get to see you be saved or married while I was here, but you ain’t got sense enough to do either one,” he says.
“When did you decide to leave?” I ask, thinking again how nobody ever tells me anything.
“Just this morning. I called and got me a bus ticket for San Luis Obispo. Vee said she’d carry me into some other San place in a few days and I can fly to Shreveport from there.”
“San Francisco?”
“Nope.”
“San Jose?”
“Maybe.”
“But why don’t you just visit Vee and come back? Why are you going home?” I ask, forgetting for a minute that this is good news and it means I get my room to myself.
“I’m sure the Lord knows everything. If His eye is on the sparrow, He must know I’m in California. But I just cain’t help bein’ afraid He won’t know where to find me when he comes to take me to Chickee.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
Later in the evening, as he’s leaving, he hugs me tight. “I love you and I’m prayin’ you’ll get saved,” he says. “And if you don’t marry that Tracy girl right soon, you ain’t got the sense of a plowed-out mule.”
I laugh and hug him back. After he leaves I spend some time thinking about how it would be, if I were a farmer, and Tracy and I got married right away. And how it would be to be so certain about God and heaven and being saved. But that’s his life, not my life. I’m actually glad, though, that I got to know some things about his life.
I get out the Escher prints and tack them up on the wall. I clean the snuff dribbles off the table where his snuff can set. Then I start reading stereo ads. I’ll go to Circuit City tomorrow. And there’s a song I heard the other day that I think might
help Tracy think it’s time for us to be together. I mean, really together. It’s not that I don’t respect her decision to wait. I do. But every now and then I remind her of how much I want her, and how nice it could be, just in case she’s ready to change her mind. And she reminds me of Uncle Tweetie’s advice, not to take the easy way, but to work on something that will last, that will be abundant.
In the morning, I wake up with the sun, and it’s almost like I can hear Uncle Tweetie singing, “When the roll is called up yonder I’ll be there.” And I know my mom was right when she said there are more important things in life than having your own room. But I may not admit to her that she was right for a long, long time.
Praise for the Hamilton High Series
“Reynolds’ treatment of youth and their challenges, from sexual abstinence to mixed-race parentage, is compassionate, never condescending; the dialogue, situations, emotions, and behavior of the well-defined teen characters ring true. [If You Loved Me is] an engaging, thought-provoking read . . .”
—Shelle Rosenfeld, Booklist
“Out of all the books I’ve read (and trust me, I’ve read tons of books), yours have impacted me the most. They are filled with reality and hope and strength, and make me feel stronger.”
—Gillian, Georgia
“For all the sadness in [No More Sad Goodbyes], Autumn and her baby’s story is ultimately one of love and hope.”
—Claire Rosser, Kliatt
“I have just finished reading Detour for Emmy. I wanted you to know that in all my years of school that book is the first book that I have honestly read from cover to cover. I can’t wait to read more of yours.”
—Amy, Montana
“Touching on the adolescent themes of teenage sex, adoption, and abortion - this [No More Sad Goodbyes] topical novel is poignant and inspiring.”
—Lambda Rising
“I want to tell you that I find your books very interesting and reading them has helped me get through a lot in my life. Thank you.”
—Julie, La Puente High School
“Before I read If You Loved Me I had never bothered to check out a book at a library, but now I can’t stop reading. Thank you for changing the way I lived my life.”
—Maria, Bell Gardens High School
“Your book [But What About Me?] touched me because it feels like I was the only one going through these things, but when I read your book I knew that I wasn’t alone.”
—Kendra, Wisconsin
The Complete True-to-Life Series from Hamilton High
BY MARILYN REYNOLDS
1–TELLING When twelve-year-old Cassie is accosted and fondled by the father of the children for whom she babysits, she feels dirty and confused.
2–DETOUR FOR EMMY Classic novel about Emmy, pregnant at 15. Read by tens of thousands of teens. American Library Association Best Books for Young Adults List; South Carolina Young Adult Book Award.
3–TOO SOON FOR JEFF Jeff is a senior, a nationally ranked debater, and reluctant father of Christy’s unborn baby. Best Books for Young Adults; Quick Pick for Young Adult Reluctant Readers; ABC After-School TV Special.
4–BEYOND DREAMS Six short stories dealing with situations faced by teenagers - drinking and driving, racism, school failure, abortion, partner abuse, aging relative. “...believable, likeable, and appropriately thoughtful.” —Booklist
5–BUT WHAT ABOUT ME? Erica pours more and more of her life into helping boyfriend Danny get back on track. But the more she tries to help him, the more she loses sight of her own dreams. It takes a tragic turn of events to show Erica that she can’t “save” Danny, and that she is losing herself in the process of trying.
6–BABY HELP Melissa doesn’t consider herself abused - after all, Rudy only hits her occasionally when he’s drinking . . . until she realizes the effect his abuse is having on her child.
7–IF YOU LOVED ME Are love and sex synonymous? Must Lauren break her promise to herself in order to keep Tyler’s love? “engaging, though-provoking read, recommended for reluctant readers.” —Booklist
8–LOVE RULES A testament to the power of love - in family, in friendships, and in teen couples, whether gay or straight, of the same ethnicity or not. It is a testament to the power of gay/straight alliances in working toward the safety of all students.
9–NO MORE SAD GOODBYES “For all the sadness in it, Autumn and her baby’s story is ultimately one of love and hope. It’s a very positive presentation of adoption, especially open adoption.” —Kliatt
10–SHUT UP Mario (17) and Eddie (9) move in with their aunt after their mother is sent to Iraq with her National Guard unit. Months later, Mario discovers their aunt’s boyfriend in the act of sexually molesting Eddie. Mario’s sole purpose is now to protect his little brother. He takes extreme measures.
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Also by Marilyn Reynolds
True-to-Life Series from Hamilton High
Telling
Detour For Emmy
Too Soon for Jeff
Beyond Dreams
But What About Me?
Baby Help
If You Loved Me
Love Rules
No More Sad Goodbyes
Shut Up
Eddie's Choice
About the Author
Marilyn Reynolds is the author of eleven books of realistic teen fiction: Eddie's Choice, Shut Up, No More Sad Goodbyes, But What About Me, Love Rules, Baby Help, Telling, If You Loved Me, Beyond Dreams, Too Soon for Jeff and Detour for Emmy, all part of the popular True-to-Life Series from Hamilton High. Reynolds is also the author of a book for educators, I Won't Read and You Can't Make Me: Reaching Reluctant Teen Readers, and Over 70 and I Don't Mean MPH. Reynolds has a variety of published personal essays to her credit, and was nominated for the ABC Afterschool Special teleplay of Too Soon for Jeff.
Reynolds worked with reluctant learners and teens in crises at a southern California alternative high school for more than two decades. She remains actively involved in education through author presentations to middle and high school students ranging from struggling readers to highly motivated writers who are interested in developing work for possible publication. She also presents staff development workshops for educators and is often a guest speaker for programs and organizations that serve teens, parents, teachers, and writers.
Reynolds lives in Sacramento where she enjoys neighborhood walks, visits with friends and family, movies and dinner out, and the luxury of reading at odd hours of the day and night.
About the Publisher
New Wind is an independent publisher dedicated to providing readers with quality fiction and non-fiction. We believe in the craft of writing, the importance of books, and the ability of the written word to express truth, convey beauty, and change lives. We work closely and collaboratively with each writer through the entire stage of bringing a book to life. Writers interested in submitting manuscripts to New Wind Publishing should request to be added to our mailing list; we will notify you when our reading periods open.
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