by Roe, Amy
I pace across the parking lot of the convenience store down the street until I get a text from Chelsea.
I’m here.
I run down the sidewalk back toward the house and slip into her car as quickly as I can before she takes off.
“What’s going on, Reese?”
“Oh my God! Oh my fucking God, Chels! You are not going to believe what just happened. Either those bitches are crazy, or I just found out why I’m so fucked up.”
She just stares at me.
I start explaining everything that Miley, Kimberly, and Ashley just told me. I tell her that I remember avoiding Uncle Randy and even staying in my gramma’s bedroom just to hide from him.
She pulls into the coffee shop just as I finish.
“Wow.” Sitting in the driver’s seat, she looks straight ahead. “So, you don’t remember anything?”
“Did you not just hear me? Yes, all of it.”
“No, I mean, are you sure there’s anything more? All you know is that that you used to hide from him. You said that nothing else happened.”
“Chelsea, the thing that scares me is that I didn’t recall anything until they told me.”
“That’s a good thing, Reese. If you don’t remember it, then it probably didn’t happen.”
“Ugh! You are not listening to me.” I turn sideways in my seat to face her. “Chelsea, you know that there are gaps. We’ve talked about it a million times. You remember so much more of your childhood than I do. What if something did happen?”
“No, you wouldn’t forget that. It’s not like a trip to the zoo when you were five, for God’s sake.”
For a few minutes, we stare as people come and go.
“I’ve heard of people blocking traumatic things from their memories—you know, like on those trash TV shows where they go on and air all their dirty laundry,” I say.
“Just like you said, that’s trash, and it’s fake, Reese.” She grabs my hand and pulls it to her lap. “Do you remember anything at all?”
“I mean, I guess I have memories of sitting on his lap at Gramma’s when I was maybe six. Then, crawling into Gramma’s bed, but I can’t recall anything in between. I do know that he smelled…sweet, like vanilla or something. That’s it. That’s all.”
As soon as I get the last word out, I feel a panic attack coming on. I take a deep breath and pull my hand away from Chelsea. I frantically grab for the car door, but it happens too fast. I suck in the little bit of breath that I can. The next thing I know, the door opens, and Chelsea is pulling me out of the car. I bend over and grab my knees.
“Deep breaths, Reese. It’s okay. Calm down. Slow your breathing.” She drops to her knees, looking up at me in the eyes. “Breathe with me. That’s it, Reese. You’ve got this.”
This goes on for a good three or four minutes before I start to come out of the panic attack.
Chelsea wipes away the tears running down my cheeks. She kisses my forehead and stands, pulling me up with her. “Are you okay?”
I nod and lay my forehead on the roof of the car.
“Wow. You haven’t had one of those in a while. Now that it’s over with, I’ll go in and get some coffee. We’ll head back to my house and figure this out. Stay put. I’ll be right back.”
I slump into the passenger seat of her car and leave the door open, so I can get some fresh air.
When we get back to Chelsea’s house, we go straight to her bedroom and sit on the floor across from one another. She’s as determined as I am to sort out this mess.
“You need to talk to your mom, Reese. She knows about this stuff.”
I look at her, confused as all hell. “How exactly does my mom know anything about this stuff?”
“She works in a gyno office. She would know how to deal with this.”
“That’s stupid, Chelsea.” I pull open her nightstand drawer and retrieve the stationery and pen that I know she keeps in there.
LOSE MY V.
SNEAK OUT WITH A GUY.
SNEAK A GUY INTO MY ROOM.
Chelsea reads the list as I write it. “I know damn good and well that I am not reading that correctly. I’m not a pro at reading upside down, but really?”
“Yes, really.” I continue my list.
GET DRUNK.
GET HIGH.
“Whoa there, killer.” She grabs the paper from me. “What is this?”
I stand and look down at Chelsea. “I have tried to do right all these years. I’ve made good choices and look where it got me.”
“Nothing got you here, Reese. You need to calm down and figure this out. Not…what is this shit? Lose your virginity? Why? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Well, actually, I need to rephrase that to, Have sex. I don’t even know if I’m a virgin, but I’ll know once I do it.”
“So, you are telling me that you are going to have sex just to find out if you are a virgin? I am not hearing you right, Reese, because this is the craziest fucking shit I have ever heard in my life. This is movie shit, Reese. And get high? This is not you.”
That’s golden, coming from her mouth. After some of the shit she’s come up with, she should be proud of me for hatching up such a fucked-up plan.
“How else will I know?”
“Your gyno. Can’t she tell? You could go and ask her.”
“Well, that’s an odd question to ask her. Plus, she’s my mom’s boss and close friend. She would probably tell my mom. At the very least, she would have to put it in my file, which my mom has full access to. The thing is, Dr. Lana asked me if I’ve had sex yet, and I told her no. She didn’t tell me that she knew I was lying.”
I try to recall the doctor’s reaction when she did the exam. Maybe she could tell and thought I was lying. But I don’t think so.
Ugh! This is all so confusing and frustrating.
“Go to a different gyno. Then, you can tell someone the whole story.”
“How am I going to sell that to my mom when I’ve already let Dr. Lana do an exam? I should have been smart enough to do that in the first place. For God’s sake, I can’t even remember if my family member only felt me up or full-on molested me. What is wrong with me?” I fall over onto Chelsea’s bed.
It takes my mom about thirty minutes to text me after realizing that I’m missing from Gramma’s house.
Reese, where are you? And why did you leave without telling me?
The girls were on my nerves, Mom. I just wanted to get out of there.
“So, that’s it.” I look at Chelsea with a straight face. “I’m going to have sex to find out if I’m a virgin.”
She shakes her head at me. “This is stupid.”
“I swear to you, if he did—”
“What are you going to do, Reese? He’s dead!” Chelsea shouts. “Are you going to take the guy you fuck to your family and tell them that he can prove that your hymen was missing?”
“What do you suggest? I suppose that you think I should do nothing like my cousins did? What if he did it to other kids?”
“I’m not saying not to do anything. I think that you should go home now and tell your parents, and then let them deal with it.”
“Tell them what? That he touched Miley, Kimberly, Ashley, and maybe me ten years ago? That’s all that I have right now. If I tell them that I can’t remember if he did anything to me, they are going to put me into therapy again.”
When I was in first grade, I started getting panic attacks. My parents took me to the doctor, and I ended up in therapy. The sessions have done nothing for me, considering I still go occasionally. That’s part of the reason that I hang out at home. I seem to have them more when people piss me off, and that coincides with being in public. People are stupid and irritating.
Chelsea and I sit silently for several minutes.
“So, are you going to help me figure this out?” I ask.
She hesitates and scrubs her hands over her face. “Of course,” she says reluctantly.
We lie on her bed
with the pen and butterfly stationary. I write a heading at the top.
AM I A VIRGIN?
CHECKLIST
“You’ve done this before, Chels. Help me.” I start writing.
1. FIND A GUY.
“I am not okay with this.” She buries her face into her pillow.
“Yeah, you’ve said that a time or two. Now, help.”
“Obviously, you are going to flirt with him to let him know that you like him.”
2. FLIRT.
Chelsea jumps off the bed. “This is so fucked up.”
“Yes, that is exactly what it is.” I smirk. “What’s next?”
“This is not how your first time should be, Reese.” She’s pacing across the floor.
“Oh, aren’t you the one who told me that your first time sucked and that it just hurts? You said that it’s not possible to get off your first time anyway. So, what exactly would I be missing?”
She sucks in a breath, and her eyes get big. “Do not ever say that in front of Connor. It will piss him off.”
“What will piss him off? That he sucks in bed?”
I giggle, but Chelsea doesn’t find it in the least bit funny.
“For your information, he doesn’t suck in bed. Now, shut up. Anyway, after you flirt with some guy, you’ll need to make out a few times, so it’s not totally awkward when you do it. Oh, and you need to buy some extra birth control, like condoms and spermicide.”
3. MAKE OUT.
“I already have the implant.”
“I don’t care. Murphy’s Law, Reese! You know, anything that can go wrong will go wrong. With the plan you’re hatching up, you don’t even want to fuck with Murphy. The implant will take care of preventing a pregnancy, the condom is for protection against STDs, and the spermicide is just in case the condom malfunctions. Okay?” She sits down next to me.
“Sure, Chels.” I write that one in all caps since she is so serious about it.
4. PURCHASE CONDOMS AND SPERMICIDE.
I sit up on the bed and look at her as I think of something I haven’t asked her yet. “What do you guys use?”
“Condoms, Reese, lots of them.” She smiles.
“Next step, I should just invite the guy over and do it.” I’m being completely serious.
She flies up again. “You’re not doing it at your house. No way! You will not have some guy you are using for this stupid plan in your bed. This is so fucked up.” She puts her hands on the wall and softly pounds her head against it.
“Quit saying that. I get it. Sheesh. Were you this freaked out about your first time?” I stand up and start putting on my shoes. “I need to get home.”
“I’ll have my cousin, Trina, get you a hotel room. I’ll tell her that it’s for me and Connor. And no, I was not this freaked out about my first time. I didn’t plan it at all, and I sure as shit did not plan it for the reasons that you are.” She grabs her keys off her dresser.
I quickly jot down the last steps of my plan and shove the paper in my pocket.
5. HOTEL ROOM.
6. ???
I spend the next few weeks of my summer networking. I’ve expanded my contacts on my phone by a few dozen. Some are guys whom I met at the gym, but most are from The Pit. There is no shortage of guys who would be willing to help me with my issue—as Miley so kindly put it—but I want a pro. I need someone who knows what he is doing, not a total sleazebag but pretty close, and who won’t bother me afterward. He’ll never get it again, and he can never tell anyone. That’s going to be the challenging part of finding the right guy.
I plan to have this done before the end of summer, but the right guy just hasn’t presented himself—until tonight. His name is Matt, and I’ve been at The Pit, sitting by the fire and talking to him for the past hour. He’s nineteen, and he has messy dark hair that falls nearly to his shoulders. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him examining me. I think he knows what he’s doing in the dating department. Best of all, he’s from a neighboring town so I won’t have to deal with him on a daily basis.
I spend the rest of the night getting to know more about him. Just before he leaves, he asks for my phone number.
“So, you’ll call me?” I ask.
“Yes, I will. I promise.”
Kyle sends me a letter every week, and I always send one back. I miss him so much. He seems to be in good spirits, but he says that he’s sore and exhausted.
I’ve kept my promise to him and then some. I’ve been working out just like I told him I would. I’ve actually come to like the gym. I like putting my earbuds in and blasting the music. It’s the only time when I allow myself not to think about my plan to lose my virginity. Going to the gym has become therapeutic. When I’m working out, my mind is at ease. It’s just my music and me for a while. I’m more in shape than I’ve ever been.
As an added bonus, I’m able to check out Brady’s fine body during my workout. Even though he is always flirting with every girl, I still admire the view. I guess this is where he picks up his dates for the weekends. I’ve seen him at The Pit several times this summer, and he always has a girl attached to his side. He stops by and talks to me every now and then. He is usually busy working—well, aside from the time he spends flirting with his fan club. Girls stop buy the front counter and buy drinks every day. Really, there is only so much water one can drink before floating away. Honestly, who buys water at the gym? His parents—or who I assume are his parents—break it up pretty quickly when they’re around.
Matt did call me later on the night we met, and he either texts or calls me almost every day. He goes to The Pit on Fridays and Saturdays. Chelsea says that Fridays seem to be more of a guys’ night.
Last week, I was able to check off number three on my checklist. Matt and I made out. It was okay. I felt less sparks kissing his lips than when Brady kissed my shoulder.
School starts in a few weeks, and I must say, I’ve come a long way. I’m so close to completing my plan. Yesterday, Chelsea and I loaded up on birth control. That was an enlightening experience, to say the least. Today, Chelsea and her cousin reserved a hotel room and I checked off number five on my checklist.
The first day of my junior year, the halls reek of excitement and fear. Fear is the only thing ruling my thoughts today. Chelsea travels the halls like she owns the place. She’s inseparable from her new friends from The Pit. That leaves me to wander around like a lost puppy this morning. Nothing is worse than the first day of school.
“Reese, c’mon. Walk to biology with me.” Chelsea loops her arm through mine and lays her head on my shoulder. “Relax, girl! It’s all good.”
“Oh, I’m good!” I hold my chin up and meet her gaze as we walk into Mr. Keemper’s biology class.
“Everyone, take a seat. We need to go over the class rules and the syllabus for the semester.” He walks to the whiteboard and writes his name.
Chelsea and I head to the only two seats that are next to each other. Of course, they’re in the front row. After I slip into my seat, I drop my bag onto the floor.
“All right, I have a mix of juniors and seniors this year. I recognize some of you but not all. We’re going to go around the room, so you can introduce yourself to me as well as your fellow classmates.”
He walks toward the back of the room and smacks a desk in the back row.
The first student calls out, “Justin.”
“Erin.”
“Casey.”
“Brady.”
Brady?
My head spins around before my brain can tell it not to, and sure enough, there he is. His beautiful blue eyes meet mine, and he winks.
Winks?
At me?
Okay, just look ahead. Don’t look back.
I listen as the rest of the class does roll call. Chelsea throws a peace sign over her head as she says her name. She can’t even do this without drawing more attention than necessary to herself.
Thankfully, class is over quickly. I stuff the syllabus into my bag,
stand up, and throw it over my shoulder. I feel a breath on my neck and the brush of fingers across the bare skin of my hip where my shirt crept up. I pull my shirt down as goose bumps cover my skin.
“Hey, Flower.” Brady leans over my shoulder from behind and then walks past me. He stops at the door to look at me.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Flower?”
“Yeah, like in Bambi. You remind me of Flower.”
“Bambi, huh? I pegged you for more of the Lady and the Tramp type.”
He grimaces and places his hand over his chest as he walks backward out of the classroom. “Ouch. It hurts that you think so little of me.”
Chelsea quietly watches our little exchange and then turns to me after Brady leaves. “You know who that is, right?”
“Uh…yeah. Obviously.”
“No, Reese, I mean, like, who he is, who he is.” Her eyes are wide, and she’s holding my shoulders.
“Brady Fisher.”
“Yeah, and he’s hot as hell.”
“Uh…yes, I suppose he is.”
“And he’s rich as hell.”
“Uh…and I don’t care.”
“And he’s popular as hell.”
“Again, I don’t care,” I say, emphasizing each word.
“You kill me, girl! The hottest guy in school just spoke to you like he wants you, and you don’t care. How do you even know him?”
“He’s Kyle’s friend. Remember when we were at The Pit on my birthday? I talked to him then, and I also see him at the gym.” I want to say, And when he touches me, I feel it between my thighs.
“Interesting,” she says slowly as if she’s contemplating something.
I tilt my head and shake it. I mouth, No. I know exactly what she’s thinking. “That is way too close to home. He’s Kyle’s friend. I have to get to my next class. See you at lunch.”
I’m starving by the time my third class is over. I’m so glad that I have an early lunch period. I really want to go through the lunch line and get pizza and a soda like everyone else, but I hate eating at school. I pull an apple out of my bag and head to my usual table to wait for Chelsea. About the time I decide that she’s ditched me, probably for Connor and her new friends from The Pit, she strolls into the cafeteria.