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“Sure is. Look, it’s only a weekend… poodle.” He bursts out laughing again, then walks over to where I’m standing, allowing me to swat him across the arm.
“And ignore my dad. Laugh all you want, but if you saw me in bed, I represent a poodle vacationing in the tropics quite accurately.”
He stops laughing, and his expression looks pained.
“I guess I’m going to be seeing a lot of you. After all, you’re carrying my baby.”
My eyes move to the hideous plaid duvet. “The paternity test is booked for next Thursday.”
He doesn’t say a word, completely ignoring what I just said. “So, show me your room.”
“You want to see my room?”
“Yeah, I want to see who Presley Malone really is.”
I’m not sure exactly what he means, but I walk down the hall and open the door to my room. I moved out of here when I left for college, which feels like a lifetime ago. My parents really haven’t change it. It still has the single bed positioned in the middle of the room with a bookshelf above it. Sitting on the shelf are my favorite books, all-time classics that I read throughout my teens. And yes, somewhere buried in the row of books is my collection of The Babysitter’s Club. I walk toward the shelf and pull out the one book that was my bible as a teen.
“Have you ever read this?” I hand him the book.
“Forever by Judy Blume,” he says. “Can’t say I have.”
I take a seat by the bay window, and he follows me.
“I’d curl up in this exact spot and read it over and over again. I was so curious and wondered if I’d feel the same about a boy one day. You know, in love and wanting to have sex with him.”
He looks at me oddly, lips pressed together in a slight grimace, and doesn’t say anything.
“Too girly of a conversation for you?” I tease.
“Not at all,” he quips, lowering his gaze. “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 for now.
“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 Virginia. It was the same place I grew up in, and much like me, they don’t like change. Over the years, people have moved on, and the generations that followed occupy most of the town now. It is small, friendly, and mostly 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 dreamed of getting married there,” I say loudly, forgetting that he’s standing right beside me.
