Ten Things We Did (and Probably Shouldn't Have)

by Sarah Mlynowski

  “Are you on the pill?” Vi asked.

  “No.”

  “Do you want to be?”

  “Maybe?” I said.

  She opened the freezer door and checked out the various sorbets. “I’m going on it.”

  “Yeah? How come?”

  “So I can have sex and not get pregnant. Hello?”

  “What did you use the last time you did it? With Frank?”

  She picked lemon, dropped it in the cart, and then looked at me. Then back at the cart. Then back at me. “I never slept with Frank.”

  “Oh,” I said, confused. “Then what was the guy’s name from your mom’s play?”

  She pushed the cart down the aisle. “His name was Frank. I just never slept with him.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked, catching up to her, even more confused. “Why did you tell me you did?”

  “I told everyone I did. I felt like people expected me to have done it. Dean did it and Hudson did it and Joanna did it—this was before she realized she was gay—so I said I did it too.”

  I wasn’t sure how to process this information. Vi had lied to everyone. Vi—strong, confident Vi—had felt the need to pretend to be something she wasn’t. Why did she care so much what other people thought? I guess if all her friends had done it, she hadn’t wanted to be the only one.

  “So . . . that means . . . you’re a virgin?”

  “You don’t have to announce it over the loudspeaker or anything. But yes. And it’s time to change that. So I’m going to have sex.” She moved us into the cheese section.

  I smiled. “Who are you gonna have it with, though? Dean?”

  “No way,” she said with a flick of her wrist.

  “Why not? I’ve always wondered why you guys haven’t gotten together.”

  “I am not interested in a boyfriend, thank you very much. And anyway, I know way too much about Dean’s sexual escapades. He’s constantly hitting on everyone. He hit on Doreen this morning for God’s sake.”

  I laughed. “He wasn’t actually hitting on the school secretary!”

  “You never know. In a different setting, if we hadn’t been there . . .”

  “Ha ha,” I said. “Why are you so convinced that you don’t want a boyfriend?”

  “I’m too busy as it is. And I don’t want anything keeping me trapped here. I am out of this place come graduation. Hells yeah!” Vi had applied to all the top undergraduate business and economics programs in the country. She was going to go to wherever gave her the best financial aid package. “I just want to have the experience. I want to know what it’s all about.”

  “So who are you going to sleep with?”

  “Liam Packinson.”

  I scrunched my nose. “The redhead? Ew.”

  “I love redheaded guys! They’re hot.”

  “Redheads are evil.”

  “Oh, get over it. You can’t blame Corinne for what Noah did.”

  I pretended to be absorbed in the cheese section. “Do you like goat cheese?”

  “No. Let’s get cheddar,” she said, grabbing two wedges and dumping them in the basket. “Nice way to change the subject.”

  “Back to Liam. If you like him, why didn’t you invite him last night?”

  “Because Jodi Dillon snatched him up on the first day of school in September. But I just heard this morning that they’re splitsville. And I’m up next. Operation Sleep with Liam begins tomorrow.” She patted down her hair and squared her shoulders.

  “Sleep with Liam? Not date? Just sleep?”

  “I told you, I’m not wasting time on a boyfriend. I have too many other things to do than be a girlfriend. But it’s time for me to have sex.”

  “But why now?”

  “First, because I cannot go to college a virgin. That would be pathetic.” She turned down the cereal aisle and tossed a box of Cheerios into our cart. “Second, it’s for research. For The Issue. I think it’s important that I actually do it before I write about it. So I’m going to Planned Parenthood to get the pill first.”

  “Can’t you just use a condom?” That had been my plan.

  “I’ll be using a condom plus the pill. Condoms can break and I am not going to be my mother.” She pursed her lips. “Accidents happen.”

  “Fair enough,” I said as we turned into the cleaning supplies aisle. I wondered what it was like to know you were an accident. My parents had tried for two years before having me.

  “If you want to start the pill too, I’ll get both of us appointments.”

  “Maybe.” I rolled the thought around in my mind. Starting the pill sounded responsible. Sexy. Grown-up. “Yes. I would like to go on the pill.” One more thing to keep from my dad. Which reminded me . . . “Oh! Oh! Lucy lives on your street? With her parents?”

  “It would be a crazy coincidence if she lived without parents on the same street as we live without parents, don’t you think?”

  “You know what I mean! Why didn’t you mention that to me? Isn’t that dangerous?”

  She shrugged. “She hasn’t set the block on fire yet.”

  “Ha. Ha, ha, ha.”

  “Don’t worry so much.”

  After half an hour in the cleaning products aisle (apparently we needed garbage bags and recycling bags and laundry detergent and liquid dish soap that did not look like the dishwasher detergent and Swiffer refills and a Miele filter . . . and thank you, parents, for shielding me from all this as long as you did), we finally reached the cash register.

  The Miele filter was sixty dollars.

  “I don’t even know what a Miele is,” I said.

  “An expensive vacuum cleaner. It was a gift from my grandma.”

  “Where is your grandma these days?”

  “A home. I visit her after school once a week.”

  “You’re a very good granddaughter.” I had no grandparents left. Besides Penny’s parents. But I didn’t count them. Even if I did, I wouldn’t expect them to give me a vacuum cleaner as a present.

  They did send me fifty dollars for the holidays, come to think of it. Um, come to think of it, I really needed to write them a thank-you note.

  The bill came to three hundred and twenty-two dollars. Ouch. “I got it,” I said, handing over my debit card. “Consider it rent.”

  THE FIRST TIME NOAH AND I ALMOST HAD SEX

  It was four months earlier, the beginning of junior year. Noah’s parents were out of town, his sister was at a movie, and his brother was listening to music in his room. I’d told my parents I was at Marissa’s.

  We had stuffed ourselves on Chinese food. Noah had over-ordered, as usual. He had big eyes. We would definitely have leftovers. We were in sweats watching a crazy sex scene from Vampire Nights in his basement. Noah was fidgeting. He always got antsy whenever he watched anything longer than a half hour.

  Vampire Nights was hot. “Maybe we should do it,” I said, not sure if I meant it or not.

  And he said, “Now?”

  And I blushed and said, “Yeah!”

  “Okay!” he hollered, and jumped off the couch like it was a trampoline. “Do you have anything?” he’d asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Me neither. Let’s go to the store.” Before I could blink he already had an umbrella in hand, his shoes yanked on, and the garage door opened.

  The idea of getting all dressed up and facing the rain made me reconsider. “Oh, never mind. It’s too wet out.”

  “What? No!” His face deflated. “I’ll go by myself!” he continued, already out the door. “You don’t have to do anything!”

  “Okay,” I’d said, sinking back into the couch.

  I’m guessing the entire block heard the squeal of the tires.

  We had been together for almost two years. We had decided to wait until at least junior year—having sex as a sophomore seemed too young to me, but junior year seemed acceptable. And now it was junior year. I knew he’d been waiting for me to bring it up. And I had been planning on bringing it up . . . as soon
as I felt ready.

  Maybe spontaneity was a mistake. First-time sex should be planned. Considered. You couldn’t just cannonball in, like it was a pool.

  By the time Noah got back I had a nervous, pounding headache. Was I really ready? Or was it just Vampire Nights? The show also made me want to be a vampire, but that didn’t mean it was a good idea. Would everyone know? And did my breath smell like General Tso’s chicken?

  “Don’t hate me,” I said.

  He looked at me. Not in a mad way, but definitely disappointed. He dropped a Walgreens plastic bag on the wooden floor and kicked off his boots. “Hey, that’s okay. Whatever you want.”

  “I don’t feel great.” The next thing I knew the room was spinning. I sat down on the carpet and bent my head into my knees. “I think I might pass out.”

  He sat down beside me and put his arm under my neck. “Aw,” he’d murmured. “Is it the MSG? Maybe we should have ordered Bertucci’s instead.”

  He ended up taking me home. As we left the basement, I glanced into the Walgreens bag and saw that he had bought five packs of condoms, all different types: lubricated, non-lubricated, non-latex, ribbed (for her pleasure), glow in the dark. Two per pack. Ten total.

  “Big eyes,” I teased him.

  He laughed. “I’m planning on using them all. Whenever you’re ready.”

  FROM THE REAL SUZANNE TO THE FAKE JAKE

  From: Suzanne Caldwell

  Date: Tues, 13 Jan, 2 a.m.

  To: Jake Berman

  Subject: Settling In

  Hi, Jake!

  The girls are really enjoying themselves! I just called and they had a whole bunch of people over. I heard singing in the background and everything! I’m so glad they’re settling in well. Also, I met a man last night named Jake German! How funny is that! I asked him if he knew you, but he didn’t. I hope things are going well in Cincinnati!

  All the very best,

  Suzanne

  _______

  From: Jake Berman

  Date: Tues, 13 Jan, 6 a.m.

  To: Suzanne Caldwell

  Subject: RE: Settling In

  Suzanne,

  I’m thrilled the girls are settling in well. I knew they would. And Jake German? Sounds like he might be my evil twin. Maybe you should steer clear of him. Just a suggestion. Things in Cleveland (you were close enough) are great.

  Best,

  Jake

  AND GOOD MORNING TO YOU

  “Today’s the day!” Vi said, throwing open my door. We’d been living together for two weeks, and though I’d learned to change a lightbulb and run the dishwasher without causing a flood, Vi had yet to learn that I wasn’t an early riser. She, on the other hand, did a HardCore3000 exercise DVD every morning. There were five—abs; legs and glutes; arms and chest; cardio; and stretch. Yesterday, I’d caught the last two minutes and discovered it involved a gym mat and ten-pound weights. I’d spotted them in the front closet, but hadn’t realized they were in active use.

  I yawned, glancing at my alarm. “I have ten minutes of sleep left. I don’t know why we didn’t kick everyone out earlier last night.”

  “Because we were having fun! And too bad. Our appointments are this morning. I’m eight and you’re eight fifteen. And the clinic is in Darien so it’s at least a half-hour drive.”

  I sat up. “Seriously?”

  “Yup.”

  “Why do we have appointments? We didn’t make appoint-ments . . . did we?”

  “We did.” She pulled open my blinds with a flourish.

  “But . . . you didn’t tell me.”

  “I did not,” she agreed.

  “Don’t we have school today?”

  “Yes, school is going on today. But do we have school? No, we do not. We have appointments.”

  “I can’t skip school!” If I got caught skipping, what would happen? Ohio would happen.

  “You are not skipping,” she said. “You’re home with the flu. Your dad already emailed the school.”

  “He did?”

  “He did. Well, Jake.Berman@pmail.com did.”

  “Oh,” I said. How very thoughtful of him.

  THE SPY

  I moved my car onto the street, and then waited for Vi to pull out of the garage.

  “Shit,” she muttered as I opened the passenger door. “Get in fast.”

  “What?” I asked, closing my door. “Why?”

  “Too late,” she grumbled. She zapped down my window and a gust of cold air blew against the side of my face. I turned to see . . .

  . . . Lucy Michaels and her unblinking alien eyes.

  Crap.

  “Hi, guys,” she said, looking from me to Vi and then back to Vi. “Can I get a lift?” Crap, crap, crap.

  “We’re sick,” Vi said smoothly. “Really sick. Contagious. I wouldn’t get too close if I were you.”

  “You don’t look sick. And if you are sick, then where are you going?”

  “The doctor,” I said. Which wasn’t a lie. So there.

  “Together?”

  “Yup,” we both answered.

  “Where’s your mom?” she asked Vi.

  “At work,” Vi said. “Where’s yours?”

  “Inside. She drives me to school, but I’d rather go with you two.”

  “Another time,” Vi said. She simultaneously rolled up my window and reversed onto the street.

  Lucy stared. I gave an awkward wave.

  “Oh crap,” I said under my breath as we took off. I peeked in the rearview mirror. She was still standing in our driveway. “This is bad. Maybe we should go to school.”

  “We already told her we were sick. And sent emails.”

  “Yeah. But. What if she tells her mom?”

  “What’s the worst thing that can happen?” Vi asked.

  “We get suspended for skipping? And my dad freaks out? And makes me move to Ohio?” I fidgeted with my seat belt.

  “You worry too much,” she said.

  True. If Lucy realized what was going on, then Lucy realized what was going on. Freaking out wasn’t going to help anyone. It certainly wasn’t helping me.

  THE NIGHT AFTER THE FIRST TIME NOAH AND I ALMOST HAD SEX

  “I’m sorry I freaked out last night,” I said to Noah. I was huddled under the covers and whispering so my dad and Penny wouldn’t know I was on the phone at one A.M. We always spoke before we went to sleep.

  “Oh please. Don’t be sorry. Couldn’t you tell I was nervous, too?”

  “No.”

  “I bought five kinds of condoms ’cause I was worried I wouldn’t have the right kind.”

  “You thought glow in the dark could be the right kind?”

  “It was nighttime!”

  I giggled, then said, “I just want to feel a hundred percent ready. Do you feel a hundred percent ready?”

  “Yup.”

  “Are guys always a hundred percent ready?”

  “If the girl is you and the guy is me, then . . . yup.”

  “I’m, like, ninety-nine percent ready.”

  “And how do we get you to a hundred percent? No pressure. I’m just wondering. Hypothetically.”

  “Uh-huh. I think to get to the hundred, I’ll need to plan it. Count down. Know it’s coming.”

  “Get your palate ready.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Then plan away.”

  “How about over Christmas break?”

  “Deal,” he said.

  “Deal,” I repeated. But then I worried. Physically I was ready. When we were together, I wanted to have sex. But what would doing it mean? Would I love him more? Would it hurt even more when we—if we—ever broke up? Would sex change us?

  It had to.

  But was I ready for change?

  PLANNED NON-PARENTHOOD

  I had been expecting something white. And sterile. Maybe like an Apple Store but less funky. I also thought it would be fil
led with nervous teens and their mothers. But it was just a regular doctor’s office with beige carpeting, felty chairs, old magazines, and paintings of Connecticut beaches on the walls. We had the choice to use our insurance or to pay cash. There was no way I was using my dad’s insurance for this. Thanks, but no thanks. Cash it was. No paper trail. At least payment was a sliding scale. I calculated how much I “earned” a year and qualified for a smaller fee.

  “Have you ever been to a Planned Parenthood before?” Vi asked me. We were sitting side by side in the waiting room. I had just handed in my form but had kept the pen to give my fingers something to do.

  “No, you?”

  “Once.”

  “How come?”

  “A friend’s condom broke. Not her condom. But the guy she was with. So we came here to get the morning-after pill. It made her feel like ass, though. The whole thing freaked her out. At least she realized the condom had broken. What if she hadn’t noticed and then gotten pregnant?”

  “Would she have had an abortion?”

  “I don’t know. Probably.”

  I looked around the room. There was one girl there with her mom; the girl looked slightly older than us, and I wondered if that’s what she was here for. Would she come with her mom if it was? “Would you do it? If you got pregnant now?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Definitely.”

  I tried not to show my surprise, but I must not have done a very good job.

  “My mom was twenty-three,” Vi said. “Not seventeen. And my mother had my grandmother to help her. Who would help me?” She paused. “What would you do?”

  I felt sad just thinking about it. “I don’t know,” I said. And I really didn’t.

  “If you have a kid, I’m totally evicting you. I don’t do babies.”

  I shook off my melancholy. “Hello, I’m not planning on getting pregnant. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Me too. That’s why I’m going on the pill and using condoms. Liam is not going to be my baby daddy.”

  “Neither is Noah,” I said. Despite all the mental preparation I’d been doing about sex, I hadn’t really thought about what I would do if I actually got pregnant. In my mind, losing my virginity and pregnancy had nothing to do with each other. A 3.9 GPA might get me into a good college, but it did not make me a genius.

  What would I really do? Have the child? Drop out of school? Would Noah and I get married? Sure, Noah and I joked about it, but I wasn’t ready to get married. If I decided to have my hypothetical baby, would I have to go live with my dad and Penny? Or maybe I’d have the baby in France. France was better than Ohio. At least my brother was in France. He could babysit while I unsuccessfully tried to find a husband. What seventeen-year-old guy wanted to date a girl with a baby? I sank into my seat. I didn’t want to move anywhere. I wanted to stay here, have sex with Noah, and not have any consequences, ever. I would definitely be using the pill plus condoms. If condoms were the goalie, the pill was a defensive line.