Second Helpings (29 page)

Yeah.

But Len had a difficult time letting it go today. He was huffy for the rest of the afternoon, and didnt stop by my locker after tenth period.

You know what? I wasnt nearly as worried about our first fight as I shouldve been.

the twenty-seventh

So guess what Im thinking about right now? Yes, sex. Good guess. But more specific.

Im thinking that there is only one other person I know whose name could have also made the last line of my birthday song rhyme. I know hes not saving himself for marriage. Last night, I had a bodice-ripping daydream that he was a stable boy and I was a countess. Inside my mind, Im a way bigger whore than Manda. The Mystery Muckraker is destined to find out about this somehow, and expose my secret, skanky dreamscape to the whole school.

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February 1st

Dear Hope,

I appreciate your advice. Truly, I do. Though yoga has helped me show a marked improvement in the sleep department, it hasnt helped my sex problem. Think about it: Any method that showcases heavy breathing and increased flexibility will be of little help in getting ones mind off getting laid. My chakras are quaking and Im hornier than ever.

Sorry. Too much information. I know. I crossed the line.

Where is the line, anyway? Wearing a tank top to school is a dress-code violation because its a sexual distraction. Yet its perfectly acceptable to use class time to fill out a sexually explicit survey? You should have seen this questionnaire Brandi passed out on the last day of Health and Human Sexuality class. An anonymous survey designed to provide information to more effectively identify resources to assist our communitys youth to grow in a healthy, caring, responsible way. Yeah, right. Check out some of these questions:

Do you think someone who gives or receives oral sex is a virgin?

Have you ever engaged in sexual activity with a legal adult (over the age of eighteen)? If so, were you a minor (under the age of eighteen)?

Have you ever engaged in sexual activity under the influence of drugs or alcohol?

Off-the-charts ack factor. Not only did I resent a reminder of my non-sexed status, which had the administrations approval, I was totally offended by the potentially incriminating nature of the questions. For all its anonymity, it screamed entrapment to me. Whats worse, we all had to fill it out because it was mandatory to pass the class. (I cant help but think about the editorial that couldve been: Pervy Survey: Stopping School-Sanctioned Smut.) Even though I know its totally irrational, I filled it out because I dont need a third-marking-period senior-year failing grade to keep me out of the Ivy League. Imagine me failing Health and Human Sexuality. Ha! How appropriate.

I lied about everythingincluding the personal infojust to screw up the results. Masturbation? Ten times a day. Threesomes? Hell, yeah! It was pretty funny. Len, of course, answered honestly, which only he could because hes never done anything wrong in his life. I couldnt help but wonder how the questions were answered by my fellow classmates who actually have incriminating backgrounds. But I stopped myself before I wondered too much because thats precisely the kind of daydreams that Im trying to stop having.

I know this is going to sound like a crazy questionespecially since you arent currently dating anyonebut Im going to ask it, anyway: You would tell me if you did it, right? I used to think that I wouldnt want you to tell mebecause my nonsexed status would make me feel left out and alonebut Ive changed my mind. I know that the kind of sex that you would have is the kind that I need to hear aboutromantic, right, and real. Hearing about a devirginization like that would validate my decision to wait. So I hope you tell me when it happens. And I promise to do the same, if Im not too senile with old age and can remember how to use a telephone.

Virginally yours, J.

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february

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the fourth

I got accepted to Piedmont University today. They even offered me an honors scholarship that covers half my tuition and gives me priority housing and class scheduling. In any other situation Id be psyched. I have no intention of settling for Piedmont or any of the others until I hear from Columbia, but I cant tell my parents that.

This sucks. It really sucks. Especially since I made the mistake of mentioning to my parents that Piedmont was my number-one choice. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.

Jessie! my dad said. I am very proud of you.

This was a very magnanimous gesture on his part, since we do not speak.

We are so proud of you! my mom said, enveloping me in a hug. You must call Len! We must go out to dinner and celebrate!

Yes, my dad said, it would be nice to have something to celebrate.

(Subtext: Since youve done nothing of importance since ruining your life by quitting the cross-country team.)

Of course, I cant have any part of such a celebration.

Actually, I was kind of leaning toward I tried to guess which acceptance letter would come last, the one that would buy me the most time until I found out from Columbia. I went the alphabetical route. A, P, S, W. Williams.

Williams?!

Williams?! echoed my father. Since when is your first choice Williams?

Uh

Okay, Jessica. Come up with something good. Come up with something really, really good. Something your parents wont be able to resist.

Since I applied for an honors scholarship that pays full tuition? My voice went up at the end of the lie unintentionally. And I was gnashing my lips down to the gums. Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!

You did?!

Why didnt you tell us?!

I didnt want to get your hopes up? Again, a question more than an answer.

As the ones footing the bill for your education, young lady, we need to know these things, my dad said.

Right, I said, feeling as guilty as ever about Columbia. Im sorry.

But not sorry enough to tell them the truth.

After a quasi-celebratory dinner (pizza ordered in, not eaten out) I called Len to tell him about my Piedmont/Columbia problem. He wasnt homehe must have been at rehearsal. Of course, I did the really mature thing of hanging up when his mom answered.

Caller ID. Duh.

Like Mrs. Levy needs another reason to despise me. I know Len told her all about our Health and Human Sexuality abstinence argument because he tells her everything . That woman is as unbalanced mentally as she is physically. When it comes to parents, I think total honesty is overrated. (And look how healthy my relationship with my parents is!) But this is just another topic on which Len and I have agreed to disagree.

I dont think this is a bad thing. That must have been why I wasnt worried about it the day it happened because the occasional fight is healthy for relationships. Because if you dont fight, you dont care at all.

This is the problem with Bethany and G-Money, I think. They never fight. Ever. But its not because they share a romantic soul-mate mind-meld or anything. Its because they dont really talk to each other enough to have anything to fight about. I think thats worse than not fighting at all.

My parents fight, of course. But its hard to take comfort in this, since they are usually fighting about me.

the fourteenth

Imagine the coldest, crudest, most cringe-worthy episode of MTVs Dismissed .

One in which the guy pretends to like one girl, even though her competition for the guys affections is hotter and whorier than she could ever be. So the guy really plays it up, and the ugly girl thinks she has a shot, even though its obvious to everyone elsethe hotter, whorier girl, the camera crew, the viewing audiencethat she will be humiliated harshlyat the end of the half hour. But the ugly girl doesnt see this; shes blinded by the guys charms. And she gets excited thinking about how personality has won out over whoriness, and fantasizing about her future with this great guy. Then when it comes time for the Dismissal, the guy who has restored her faith in the opposite sex turns to the girl and says, I wouldnt do you if you were the last piece of pussy on the planet. And then he looks right into the camera and laughs and laughs and laughs.

Thats about one-bizillionth as bad as what happened to me today, when Len did the thing he assured me he would never do. He broke my heart on Valentines Day. Again.

Lens Dumping Speech:

Its not you. Its me. And its also my mom. She really doesnt like you very much, and its made it difficult to spend time with you, and I thought it was counterintuitive to continue a relationship with someone I can never see. Also, my future is very important to me and I cant help but feel that since Ive been with you, my priorities have shifted but not in a positive, productive way. Lately I have realized that we have opposing views on important subjects, including, but not limited to, sexual relations before marriage. I feel that Ive gotten all I can from this life experience, and that the best thing for both of us is if we put an end to this now, so we can move on to a more fulfilling future.

When I didnt respond, he shook my hand in a very businesslike way, then departed.

LEN broke up with ME. ON VALENTINES DAY.

I guess its better than his breaking up with me the day after Valentines Day, knowing all along that he wanted to break up with me on Valentines Day.

NO ITS NOT. IT STILL SUCKS.

Len breaking up with me today was like a Daisy Cutter bomb. Both go by a seemingly harmless name. Both contain fifteen thousand pounds of explosive power. Both drop in plain sight. Both result in total obliteration.

I was so traumatized that I was even willing to talk to my mother about it. I figured I would vent about Len, and she would go off on how any guy who doesnt appreciate her perfect daughter is obviously undeserving of her companyyou know, predictable parental bullshit that I really, really needed to hear.

He broke up with you? How dare he? Who does he think he is?

I knpw, I said, all sniffly and pathetic. I know!

My mom, being so utterly conventional, followed her half of the dialogue to the letteruntil the phone rang.

Bethie! How are you? Hows my future grandchild? Still kicking? Youre coming to visit? Oh! I couldnt be happier!

Babies win out over everything, every time. Even breakups. Theyre cute for that very purpose, you know. Otherwise no one would bother with them.

She pulled her mouth away from the receiver to address me. Bethany is flying out here and might stay for the remainder of her pregnancy! Isnt that the best news? Doesnt that cheer you right up?

You betcha, I said, flashing a double thumbs-up before retreating to my room.

Hope keeps reminding me that I never really liked Len all that much. If thats true, then why does this hurt so bad?

the fifteenth

It got worse. Worse than I could have ever imagined.

WHAT VIRGINAL GUITAR GOD BROKE UP WITH HIS BRAINIAC GIRLFRIEND ON VALENTINES DAY SO HE COULD CARRY ON WITH THE VERY EXPERIENCED SUPER-FEMME HALF OF THE CLASS COUPLE?

You read it right. Manda wasnt after Marcus. She was after Len. And she got him. Just like she gets every guy shes ever gone after. Ever. ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH. And I was too obsessed with the idea of her seducing Marcus to even notice.

Serves me right. How did my life become tabloid fodder? Because Im a moron. Take my brain for scientific research; I apparently dont need it.

You know what the worst thing is? Worse than realizing that tits always win? Worse than losing my faith in malekind? Worse than being betrayed by someone who seemed incapable of such a thing? Worse than knowing that Len beat me to what I wanted to do all along?

The worst thing is this: that whoever is behind Pinevile Low knew the truth before I did.

Thats what makes me want to crawl under the covers and never, ever come out again.

the eighteenth

Being pissed off expends a lot of energy. So after staying under the covers for who knows how long, I went downstairs this morning for some nourishment. In the kitchen, I discovered that someone had busted into the Chubby Hubby ice cream before I did. Bethany, what are you doing here?

I was here all weekend, she said. If you had left your room, you would know that.

It was true. I hadnt left my room since Friday night. My bedroom and its adjoining bathroom was its own self-sufficient little ecosystem. Id lost all track of time in the outside world.

Fine, I said, in a tone that reflected how much I resented that she was here, honing in on my mope time. But why are you here at all?

Grants away on business and I dont want to be alone, she replied in between licks of the spoon.