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I take a seat by the bay window and he follows me.

“I would curl up in this exact spot and read it over and over again. I was so curious and wondered if I would feel the same about a boy one day. You know, in love and wanting to have sex with him.”

He looks at me oddly and doesn’t say anything.

“Too girly of a conversation for you?” I tease.

“Not at all,” he quips. “It’s part of teen sexuality. That curiosity. And so then you obviously took the plunge one day?”

“I was seventeen and it was at some party. Nothing more to tell other than it was over in a minute and the guy moved away. His dad was in the military. And you?”

“And me what?” He stares at me, confused.

“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

“I don’t know . . . like twenty,” he mumbles.

“Twenty!” I raise my voice despite his embarrassed look. “I’m sorry. Twenty. Really? Isn’t that kinda old for your generation?”

“I wasn’t into girls at school. I had other things to worry about.”

“Like what?”

He quickly stands up and stretches his arms. “So what do you want to do now?”

Once again, I’m taken aback by the swift change in subjects. Something I said, or the topic at hand, appears to be deeper than I thought. Not wanting to cause another argument, I let it go, but make a mental note to delve in further another time.

“How about a walk around town, then maybe lunch by the lake?” I offer.

“Sure, lead the way.”

***

My parents live in a small town, east of West Virginia. It was the same place I grew up in, and much like me, they didn’t like change. Over the years, people moved on, and the generations that followed occupied most of the town now. It was small, friendly, and for the most of the part, trouble-free.

Gemma was the first to fly the coop by skipping college altogether and heading out to California. From there she enrolled in a few classes and met Melissa. My parents knew I didn’t like change, but college was a huge deal and I knew if I wanted to pursue a career in publishing, I needed to head to the city.

“See that school across the street? That’s where I went.” I show him. “And that church, it was built by my great, great, grandfather. I always dreamt of getting married there,” I say loudly, forgetting that he’s standing right beside me.

“Is that where you and what’s-his-face was getting married?” With a bitter tone, he continues to stare at the church.

“Jason, and no. Jason wanted to get married at his priest’s church out in Jersey.”

Since he has decided to bring up weddings, I can’t have thought of a better time to ask.

“And you? Eloise says you’ll be getting married soon.”

“Did she?” He appears agitated. “I don’t know. I don’t get involved.”

“But it’s your wedding,” I state, slightly confused.

“I’m just not interested in the finer details,” he tells me, hesitating just a little.

“I know how you feel. I was excited about Jason proposing, but when it came time to planning, I just lost interest. I guess that’s how I knew something wasn’t right. I always thought that it would be the

most exciting time in my life.”

He exhales, rolling his eyes like an immature brat. “That’s a stupid woman thing. Men don’t care. Plan all you want, as long we are told where to turn up, that’s all that matters. Oh, and the bachelor party.”

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