Page 10 of Unsupervised
Serena leans over and hugs me. “You are my favorite person tonight. That’s the most honest answer I’ve ever heard. There’s nothing wrong with just wanting some orgasms. I know more than one guy who would be all over your pretty ass.”
I realize I’m going to have to tell them everything. God, this is awkward. “I’ve never really done that before.”
“Done what?” Remee asks. “Had a guy go down on you?”
“That…or um…sex, you know, in general.”
The sudden silence presses in around me, heating my face, and I don’t dare look up at any of them. I’m just going to play with my spoon and pretend my ice cream is the most fascinating thing I’ve seen.
Zara’s voice is soft as she says, “You’re a virgin?”
My teeth scrape my lower lip, and I nod.
“Are you waiting for marriage?” Zara asks. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Or waiting for any reason.”
“No, I just didn’t want to sleep with Stanley. It wasn’t for any moral reason.”
“I wouldn’t want to give it up to anyone named Stanley either,” Serena quips.
Silence resumes for a few moments until Remee speaks up. “That does change things. You don’t want to let just anyone take your virginity. You only lose it once. It should be someone you love.”
“Oh bullshit!” Zara argues. My eyes widen. She’s the last one I expected to disagree with such a statement. “First of all, sleeping with a guy for the first time doesn’t mean he’s taking anything. You aren’t losing anything to him. That’s some patriarchal, misogynistic nonsense. Society putting value on what they consider a woman’s purity is as wrong as it gets. You’ll be the same person with the same worth after you have sex. You just have to make sure you’re attracted to the guy, you’re protected, and that it’s what you really want to do.”
Serena nods in agreement. “For once, I agree with one of your feminist rants.” She holds up a hand and regards me. “But you do want to find the right guy and the right penis. Someone who isn’t a jerk and will take his time.”
“The right penis?”
“Oh yeah. My first one was way too big. You need a practice penis.”
Giggles fill the room, and I feel the awkwardness drain away.
“A warm up willy?” Remee says, giggling.
“I definitely want to get to know someone and like him first. Not just, you know, do it to get it over with.”
“Good.” Zara sits back and smiles at Serena. “We’ll help you meet guys until you find one you want.”
“The perfect starter dick,” Serena says.
* * *
The insistent beep of my phone shakes me from sleep and I’m shocked to see how late I’ve slept in on Saturday morning. I’ve gotten used to early shifts at the bakery, but late night girl talk and weed smashed my sleeping pattern.
Why do I have fifteen text messages before ten a.m.? Someone has left voicemails as well. Dread floods through me when I see the missed calls and texts are from my parents. A few from my father and more from my mother. Whatever they want can’t be good and I’m not going to read them now. I have to get moving to make it to the first Adulting Club meeting.
I’m a little nervous when I first get there but it’s a small group and everyone is great. We talk a little while we wait for the instructor to show up. I hadn’t bothered to see who was running the group, and my stomach flips when my economics teacher walks in and calls out for all of us to join him.
Mr. Aldrich. Good god, the man is hot. I wonder how old he is?
Don’t even think about it, Kelly. He’s gorgeous and older, and your teacher for fuck’s sake. I’m not going to embarrass myself by getting a crush on a teacher like a middle school student. That smile, though. Whew.
Somehow, I manage to keep from embarrassing myself throughout the meeting and it’s pretty fun. I’m glad I joined.
My good mood sours when I get home and remember my parents have been trying to get in touch with me. I’ve just opened the first text when someone bangs on the front door hard enough to rattle the walls. My feet catch in the rug when I leap off the couch, and I tumble to the floor. Ignoring the ache in my tailbone, I scramble to my feet.
Serena appears, charging down the hall. “Wait,” she snaps in a whisper, and quickly grabs the baggie of weed off the table. She plucks the tiny roach out of the ashtray as the pounding starts again. With wide eyes, she shrugs and tosses the roach in the baggie, then shoves it down the front of her pants. “One state over,” she grumbles. “One state over they don’t have to do this shit.”
Remee and Zara both emerge from their rooms looking as perplexed and alarmed as we do.