My Parents Are Sex Maniacs

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My Parents Are Sex Maniacs Page 17

by Robyn Harding


  Surprisingly, she doesn’t follow this with “like your dad.” I shrug and give a small snort of affirmation.

  “So . . . Mr. Bartley lives with you guys now?”

  I nod.

  “I think . . . ” she begins, suddenly sounding nervous, “that’s nice . . . Your mom deserves to be happy after . . . everything.”

  I just nod again, my eyes beginning to pool with tears. I want to say something to her, something like: I want you to know that I’ll always be there for you too—like, if something horrible were to happen between you and Daniel, you can count on me. But I’m too afraid to speak. Instead, I bite my lip to stifle a sob and shrug. Sensing the impending breakdown, Sienna says, “Well . . . congratulations on your new brother or sister,” and closes herself back into the stall.

  I skip calculus and head home. As I walk, I let the tears pour unchecked down my cheeks. The exchange with Sienna today confirmed what I had thought: all the years of friendship between us can’t just be forgotten. We will always care about each other. This makes the fact that we will never be friends again that much harder to take. And this makes me miss Sienna even more.

  Letting myself in to our empty house, I’m met by a comforting silence. My mom is at work, and Dave and Troy are still at school. I wander into the kitchen and rifle through the cupboards. This is the kind of moment that calls for a martini, but since I don’t know what’s in a martini and even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t find the ingredients in my pregnant mother’s house, I settle for a glass of iced tea. Taking my drink into the living room, I sink into the sofa. But before I’ve even had a sip, I fall into an exhausted sleep.

  I’m awakened by my brother’s noisy entrance. “You’re sleeping?” he says, like he’s just walked in on me rubbing peanut butter in my hair. “It’s, like, quarter to five.”

  “I was tired,” I grumble, sitting up groggily. I go to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and rub the sleep out of my eyes. When I emerge, my mom and Dave are both home. They’re in the kitchen, putting away some groceries.

  “Hi,” my mom says gently, coming over to me. “Troy said you were asleep when he came in. Are you feeling okay?”

  “Yeah,” I say, “just tired.”

  She puts her hand on my forehead. “You’re not warm . . . ”

  I suddenly feel like crying again. Damn! I thought I’d gotten it all out of my system. For a fleeting moment, I consider opening up to my mom about the day’s events but decide that it might be a little cruel to tell her about the taunting I’ve endured because of her pregnancy. Instead, I remove her hand from my head and give it a squeeze. “I’m okay,” I say. “Everything’s okay.”

  My mom’s chin quivers with emotion, and she pulls me to her for a tight hug. “I love you, you know,” she whispers into my hair. “You’ll always be my first baby.”

  “I know,” I say back. “I love you too.”

  32

  When school resumes on Monday, life has taken on an almost eerie normalcy. No one mentions the fact that my mom is having Mr. Bartley’s baby. After all the cruel teasing and Kimber’s pregnancy imitations, it’s almost like no one really cares. For the next few days, I spend my time with Leah and the girls, once again completely ignored by the evil triplets. And neither Sienna nor Daniel acknowledges the momentous exchanges that occurred between us the previous week.

  Of course, I try to ignore them in turn. I immerse myself in school, work, and my art portfolio, but I can’t deny that secretly I am still watching, waiting for Daniel to make good on his promise. But Sienna’s smiling face and confident manner are certainly not that of a girl who’s just discovered her boyfriend’s gay.

  But when I walk into the cafeteria at Wednesday lunchtime, something has changed. Sienna’s table of popular girls is positively abuzz, their words and actions as frenetic as a beehive. Well . . . there can be only one explanation. Daniel’s finally done it. I feel a mix of emotions as I observe the swarm of girls surrounding Sienna, obscuring her from my vision. While Daniel’s confession today will save her infinitely more heartache in the long run, I know firsthand how hard it is to find out that the man you love is gay. And as much as I despise Sienna’s friends, I’m glad she has them right now.

  “Hey,” Raj says as I join her, Emma, and Leah. She motions her head toward Sienna’s table. “Did you hear the news?”

  “Uh, sort of,” I say modestly, not wanting to let on that I was instrumental in the events that played out today.

  Emma rolls her eyes. “Can you believe it? A promise ring! That’s so . . . fifties.”

  “Sorry, what?” I gasp.

  “Daniel Noran gave Sienna Marshall a promise ring,” Raj explains.

  Leah looks at me. “Why? What did you think it was?”

  “I—I thought I heard something else,” I stammer. “It . . . doesn’t matter.”

  “So, I guess they’re all celebrating,” Emma continues, staring at the gaggle of girls.

  Now that I listen more carefully, there is definitely a celebratory vibe at their table. I manage to catch a glimpse of Sienna through the throng. Her face is beaming as she holds forth her hand to her numerous admirers.

  Raj takes a bite of her sandwich, then mumbles, “What does a promise ring even mean these days?”

  “I promise to marry you one day in ten years or something,” Leah says. “It’s, like, prehistoric.”

  Emma elaborates. “Supposedly, it’s a promise to wait for each other until after college. It’s like a pre-engagement ring.”

  I stand up. “I’ve got to go.”

  The girls look at me. Leah says, “Are you okay? You didn’t even eat anything.”

  “I’m fine,” I say, forcing a smile. “I’ve got to go . . . talk to Mr. Bartley. Yeah, my mom asked me to tell him something and I almost forgot.” Gathering my lunch bag, I hurriedly exit the room.

  In the hallway, I begin a frantic search for Daniel Noran. How could he betray me this way? Okay, it probably wasn’t too hard for him to betray me, since he barely knows my name, but how could he betray Russell this way? And how could he dupe Sienna? Obviously, she and I are not as close as we once were, but I can’t stand by and watch her get pre-engaged to someone so deceitful, so duplicitous, not to mention so gay!

  And then I spot him. He’s at the far end of one of the hallways, surrounded by a group of cool, popular guys. They’re an intimidating bunch, with their expensive clothes and their superior laughter, but I force myself to move toward them. If I hesitate, I may chicken out.

  Jake Lawrence is saying, “God, I can’t believe you did it! Like, why, man? You’re only eighteen!”

  “I know why!” Aidan Kemper cries. “Some girls won’t put out unless they’ve got a ring on their finger.”

  Daniel laughs. “You got me, buddy!”

  “That’s not why you gave Sienna a promise ring,” I say. “Is it, Daniel?”

  The five boys turn to look at me, their expressions relaying their shock. Most of them are stunned I’m even daring to speak to them—me, Miss Big-Boned Loser, Miss Drama Nerd, Miss Invisible. Only Daniel’s face registers recognition—and fear.

  Jake laughs first. “Can we help you with something?”

  “Maybe Daniel can,” I say, my tone formidable.

  “Hey,” Liam Nordell says, “you’re the chick whose mom got knocked up by Bartley!”

  “Yeah,” I say, addressing him, “that’s me. I’m also the one whose brother walked in on Sienna’s mom giving my dad a fortieth-birthday blow job. Sienna and I used to be really close, but since all that went down, not so much.”

  Liam gapes at me like this is the weirdest thing he’s ever heard—which it just might be.

  Daniel steps forward. “Give us a minute, you guys.” His voice is commanding, and his entourage wanders off down the hall.

  “A promise ring?” I ask, my voice hushed but frantic. “You were supposed to break up with her!”

  “Yeah,” he says ruefully, “there was
a change of plans.”

  “Change of plans? You go from planning to break up with her to giving her a promise ring? What? You’re suddenly straight again?”

  “It’s not that,” he says, glancing nervously around the deserted hallway. “It’s my parents. My mom’s having some health problems and it’s really not a good time to upset her.” His hand travels through his perfect coif. “I just couldn’t break her heart right now, and she really likes Sienna.” He looks at me, his face full of concern. “I know you’ve gone through a lot with your family too. If anyone can understand, it’s you, Louise.”

  I start to say something like, True, I do know what it’s like to have to make sacrifices for your parents’ happiness, but then I pause. Looking at Daniel Noran again, I notice that he’s wearing that same charming, toothy smile that won me over in the parking lot last week. And that’s when I know. Daniel is just one of those people for whom everything will always turn out all right. Everyone will always want to please him. Everyone will always accept his excuses. Everyone will always know his name.

  “Well . . . ” I say, my shoulders sagging with defeat, “I guess you know what you’re doing.”

  He reaches out and gives my arm a squeeze. “I knew you’d understand.”

  I’m embarrassed to admit that I hope someone has witnessed this intimate exchange between me and the reigning king of Red Cedars.

  “I’m going to take care of it,” he says, “when the time is right.”

  “Okay.” I take a step back. “Well, I hope your mom’s okay and . . . see ya later.”

  Charming, toothy smile: “See you around, Louise.”

  33

  So there’s no point in me interfering. It’s not like anyone would thank me for it. Russell certainly wouldn’t say, Oh, thanks, Louise. It’s so nice of you to tell me that the guy I’m crazy about, the hottest, sexiest, and quite possibly only gay guy in Langley (Mr. Sumner notwithstanding), is a lying, manipulative dirtbag. And I highly doubt Sienna would say, What? My pre-fiancé is homosexual? Gee, thanks for telling me that, Louise, and saving me from a life of deception and ultimate humiliation. Besides, Daniel could probably charm Russell into turning against me, and Sienna would definitely think I was lying just to hurt her. She’d undoubtedly instruct her followers to torture me about my parents’ out-of-control sex lives at every opportunity.

  After school, I call Russell. It’s tempting to spill the whole sordid story to him, but I can’t hurt him that way. I love him too much. And it must be hard to be gay in a backward suburb like ours. Not to mention that Daniel seems to have the ability to charm the pants off everyone (literally in some cases).

  “So how was life at Red Cedars today?” Russell asks.

  “Oh, same old thing,” I lie. “How are your demo CDs coming along?”

  “Good,” he replies, rather unconvincingly. “My dad’s been making me do a bunch of yard work, so I haven’t had a lot of free time, but I’m going to get to them soon.”

  “You have to!” My voice is full of panic. “It’s only a few months until we leave for New York!”

  Russell laughs. “Yeah, it’s only ten short months away.”

  “I’m serious. We are moving to New York, right? One hundred percent for sure?”

  “Yes, Louise,” he says, and I can picture him rolling his eyes on the other end of the phone. “We are moving to New York, one hundred percent for sure. We’re going to get an apartment together. I’m going to get work in clubs, and you’re going to go to art school.”

  “Okay,” I say weakly.

  “Will you please stop worrying about it?” His voice is caring. “Nothing is going to change our plans. I promise.”

  Russell’s assurance makes it slightly easier to ignore Sienna and Daniel the next day as they walk through the school hallways, their fawning admirers throwing rose petals and confetti at them. God, the way Audrey, Jessie, and Kimber are carrying on, you’d think this was the wedding of some huge celebrities or something.

  I try to tune them out, but unfortunately the evil triplets are in my history class and sit only a few seats up from me. While we wait for Ms. Harmon’s arrival, they babble on about Sienna’s nuptials like they’re happening next week.

  “Of course you’ll be my bridesmaids!” Sienna assures them, prompting a delighted squeal from Kimber and a slightly tearful hug from Audrey.

  “So, where do you think you’ll get married?” Kimber says.

  “Well, not in Langley, that’s for sure!” Sienna laughs. “I mean, who knows where we’ll end up. Daniel’s dad’s got him a mailroom job at this really great law firm in New York City for the summer . . . ”

  My head jerks up from the paper I’ve been doodling on.

  Sienna continues, “And then he’ll go to Cornell, so, we’ll definitely be on the East Coast. Daniel knows I’ve always wanted to live in New York City, and his dad has lots of connections there.”

  A wave of nausea overtakes me as I blatantly stare at Sienna and her friends. Daniel is going to be in New York this summer! He and Sienna are going to move there one day! So, he could carry on his relationships with Russell and Sienna indefinitely!

  Just then, Sienna feels my gaze upon her. She looks in my direction and our eyes meet. She gives me a small, tentative smile.

  Much to my dismay, I feel my eyes begin to well with tears, yet again. I look away and begin to rifle through the largely empty pages of my notebook. God, I can’t break down in front of everyone. I’ve got to get out of here. Unfortunately, just as I’m about to flee, Ms. Harmon enters the room and closes the door behind her.

  I sit through history class in a sort of daze. In fact, I sit through all my classes in a fog. With this new information, everything has suddenly changed. Well, not everything has changed. I’m still completely powerless. There’s still nothing I can do.

  When school is finally over, I gratefully make my way home. Tonight I have a five o’clock shift at Orange Julius with Russell. Normally, this would be the highlight of my day, but I just can’t face him tonight. Going to the phone, I dial Grant’s cell phone. “I’m really sick,” I weakly tell his voice mail. “I’ve got some serious cramps and I won’t be able to work tonight.” Something tells me this particular excuse will work on Grant.

  When my mom gets home, I’m lying on the couch watching Oprah. “I thought you had to work tonight?” she says, dropping her purse on the floor at the end of the couch.

  “No,” I lie, “I thought I did, but I was looking at next week’s schedule.” I can safely assume that my mom would be even stricter about missing work than she is about missing school.

  “Well, that’s nice,” she says, coming to sit beside me. She lifts my feet up and places them on her lap. Looking at the TV she says, “So what’s going on here?”

  “This woman’s trying to get back on her feet after her husband left her,” I mumble.

  “Bastard,” she says.

  Whether it’s my mom’s proximity or the poor woman on TV, I feel a return of the emotion that nearly overwhelmed me earlier today. Biting my lip, I stifle the urge to confess all to my mother. Knowing her, she would instantly call a meeting of everyone’s parents, throwing in the school counselor, principal, and a few extra teachers for good measure. Needless to say, this would cement my position as the twelfth grade’s biggest loser.

  “What’s for dinner?” I ask in an attempt to distract myself from an emotional breakdown. Food often works well in these cases.

  “I’ve got some ground turkey in the fridge. I thought I’d make chili or something.”

  “I’ll do it,” I say, lifting my feet from her lap and placing them on the floor. “You stay here and watch TV.”

  “Thanks, honey.” My mom smiles up at me. “I am pretty tired. But now that I’m in my second trimester, I should have more energy soon.”

  “It’s okay.”

  She looks at me lovingly. “You’re a good girl, Louise.”

  Oh no! I’m going to lose
it! I turn on my heel and hurry to the refuge of the kitchen.

  As I brown the ground turkey and carefully chop an onion my mom’s words ring in my ears. I am sooo not a good girl. I am a selfish, self-centered coward! A good girl wouldn’t stand by and let her best friends—past and present—be manipulated and deceived. A good girl would do the right thing and intervene, even if her best friends wouldn’t thank her for it. Even if it meant they would hate her, cancel their New York plans, and sic all their nasty friends on her, a good girl would speak up!

  Tears are now cascading down my face, but thankfully I can blame the onion. I chop the green pepper next, and then the mushrooms. Troy hates mushrooms, so I add lots. I’m just about to open the can of diced tomatoes when the doorbell rings.

  “Troy!” my mom calls to my brother, who is playing computer games in the basement office.

  “What!” he calls back.

  “GET THE DOOR!” I yell down at him. God, anyone else would just automatically answer the door, but not my brother. I don’t need to be within earshot to know he is calling me a fat bitch right now.

  My head is buried in the narrow kitchen cupboard as I rummage for chili powder when Troy materializes behind me. “The door’s for you,” he says.

  Extracting myself from the cupboard, I turn to face him. He’s bouncing around like some sort of hyperactive puppy. “Who is it?”

  My brother’s face splits into an enormous smile. “Sienna Marshall.”

  Jeez, after everything that’s happened he still has a crush on her? But this is just a fleeting thought. Obviously, the more pressing concern is, What the hell is she doing here?

  34

  With a deep, fortifying breath, I make my way to the door. “Hey,” I say weakly.

  “Hi,” she says, smiling at me.

  Her friendly manner takes me aback. “Uh . . . what are you doing here?”

 

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