Page 52

Abby

Today, Connor is acting as if nothing happened. On the one hand, that’s great. He seems laid back, relaxed, and happy. On the other, unfinished business like that tends to grow to cosmic proportions.

In the morning, we visit Nikki and have coffee. Then, we go to my cousin for a while. We’re standing at the bus stop, and I notice him staring at me. I turn and look at Ve with a question in my eyes.

“You look gorgeous, babe.”

How nice. I like it when he compliments me. There is no trace of his bad mood. He’s so unstable!

“Thank you, Ve. You, too.”

He takes my hand as we get on the bus. When all our chores are done, he walks me home.

“Will you come later?”

“Yes, around five.” He leaves a wet mark on my lips and takes the elevator down.

In the meantime, I have an argument with my father. Jesus, that guy is the worst! I’ll never find common ground with him. His vibrations are just too different from mine. Sometimes I think his presence burns me. I know how that sounds. I’m just telling you what I feel. I have no clue what the reason is. If we weren’t related, we wouldn’t like each other. It’s that simple. We’re from two different worlds. I don’t blame him. Everyone has their demons, but you have to notice them and do something about it.

Connor comes a couple minutes after five. Surprisingly. Ve’s great fault is always being late. At the start of our relationship, he went the extra mile, but it’s been a downhill ride for the last couple of months. Sometimes he’s late by an hour! For me, that’s disrespect. Maybe he stopped caring. When someone does that, they evidently don’t want to participate in whatever they’re late for. There has to be a reason. And I have that feeling he’s not telling me something again.

We’re sitting in my room and talking about our plans for December, when suddenly he changes the subject.

“Do you ever think about Roger?”

“What?” The question takes me by surprise. “No. Why would I?”

“Did you ever do things like we do…?”

“Ve, I think I already told you, about a hundred times, that no. What’s bothering you really?”

“It’s nothing…”

“Goddamnit, talk to me! Don’t piss me off!”

“Were you really a virgin?”

Well, I did not expect that. He’s seriously going to try to put a dent in that?

“Yes, I was a virgin. Why are you asking again?”

“Shit, I don’t know. You didn’t bleed or anything…”

“Maybe I lost my virginity before by putting stuff up my pussy, looking for orgasm. I told you I discovered pretty early how to pleasure myself. I did some things with a friend, a girl, but I don’t feel like talking about that! Read a bit and you’ll learn that there doesn’t have to be blood. Each pussy and each hymen is different.”

“With a girl?! What do you mean?”

Right, this is the only thing he got from my answer. I slap myself mentally for even mentioning it.

“We were a bit freaky and did some things. We wanted to check what all that stuff we found written in some books in her house was.”

“Wow.” I must have shocked him with my sincerity. He’s equally dumbfounded by the adult things I used to do when I was a girl, curious of her own body, growing up.

“To answer your question: I think I might have lost my virginity then. But I never slept with anyone. Nobody ever touched me there before you! I never had a dick in me! My mouth has never tasted another penis. Does that finally satisfy you? Or maybe you weren’t a virgin?”

“I was, Abbs!”

“So can we finally end this conversation?”

Ve leaves, and I have the inevitable argument with Dad. Standard. We’ve never seen eye to eye. He’s just sniffing for stuff he can pick on me about. He’s scared, because he was stupid when he was young. I’m the result. So now he’s shitting himself, thinking I’ll go in his steps. The basic, glaring difference between us is that I am careful. I can control myself and my desires. I don’t play like that. I don’t want to have kids and have no plans of changing my mind in the next twenty years. Or ever. I tend to think “ever” is closer to the truth.

After Ve leaves, I ponder his question: do I think about Roger? Where did that come from? Why do I feel there’s something underneath those inquiries? Maybe he heard something. No. I don’t think about Roger. The only thing I regret is that I left him for Ralph. That was a bad decision. But since Ve arrived on the scene, he’s the whole world to me. He eclipsed all my earlier flings. None can compare to him, and none ever will.

The weeks pass quickly. Ve picks me up from school or private lessons. The worst thing is that we’re never alone. My parents don’t leave like they did in the summer. That goes without saying—our other house doesn’t have heating and a fireplace yet. It’s different in the summer. They want to finish before December, but Lucius has school too, so they can’t leave for longer. Going for a single day defeats the purpose. The sexual tension between me and Connor is growing day by day. The weather doesn’t make quickies in the middle of the forest an enticing possibility either. We’re counting on a miracle.

I’m sitting alone now, reading my diary and analyzing. Sometimes Connor and I argue about stupid shit. So stupid it makes me want to just give up and die. I know I’m pretty fucked up too, a defective unit, but I can’t wrap my head around some of his behaviors. Today, for instance, I was so happy to be able to cuddle with Ve after school. Everything was going great until he slid a hand down my panties, and at the very moment my dad crossed the hallway. Being me, I snapped: “Hey, fuck off! He could have entered without knocking! Did you think about that?” My reaction was impulsive, sure, but I got scared. I always react like that when I’m not in control. I need to work on that. Only how? Of course, he got offended. He’s so oversensitive. He kept poking barbs at me the entire evening. When I wanted to hug him or do anything, he would say: “Hey, stop, your dad could enter at any time!” Fucking childish.

Yeah, I’m temperamental, and when I’m on my period I become totally unpredictable. Like a ticking time bomb. I can sit quietly one moment and explode another. Sadly, Connor doesn’t get that. He keeps telling me I’m unstable. His sisters don’t act like that. Ouch! I don’t understand my behavior sometimes either. It pisses me off like hell that I can’t control it. It’s a weakness that gets on my nerves. My actions sometimes hurt others. When that time comes, I should stay at home and avoid people so as not to pass my madness on to anyone else.