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“What? I’m not pregnant!”
“Okay, okay. I was just asking.” He huffs.
“You can’t ask girls if they’re pregnant any time they get upset.”
“I don’t ask random girls if they’re pregnant,” Jet says indignantly. “I wouldn’t care if they were.”
“You’re missing the whole point.”
“She has PMS,” Joel says.
“What’s that?”
“She’s going to get her period,” Joel clarifies. “She’s hormonal.”
“I’m not hormonal!” That starts another round of sobs, because OMG this is so unfair. “And I’m not pregnant, and both of you stop it.”
I beat my fists on Jet’s chest again, for effect, and he gasps dramatically.
“No, please don’t hurt me,” he whines in a very bad female impersonation, and the combination with his scruffy face and tangled dark hair, together with the sound of my fists falling on his muscled chest, makes me laugh.
Great, now I’m crying and laughing at the same time. “Jet. Stop making me laugh.”
“Laughter is good for you. Candy…” Worry edges into Jet’s voice. “Did I fuck up with your parents?”
“Now you care?” Joel mutters. “I told you this was important to her.”
“No, you said it was important to them.” Jet’s cheekbones color, and I wonder what he means.
“That it was important to my parents?” I ask.
“Yeah. And I’ll be honest with you, girl, I couldn’t care less what your parents think. But if getting along with them and pretending to be a virgin pure as the driven snow is important to you, I’ll fucking do it.” Jet nods.
I beat my fists on his chest one more time, just to feel the strength in his muscular body. “I don’t care what my parents think.”
“You don’t?” Joel asks. “But you’re crying.”
“I’m not anymore,” I say, turning in the circle of their arms to face him. “I’m mostly annoyed with Dad who suddenly decided to defend my honor against my boyfriends! And okay, with Mom for suddenly not wanting my dad, and discovering sex and being so… open about it. For thinking of you both as large scale, walking and talking sex toys.”
“So I was right, huh?” Joel mutters, his brow furrowing. “That’s…”
“Creepy?” Jet suggests.
“…icky,” I tell them. “She has to learn some boundaries.”
Problem with my mom is that she never had many boundaries to start with.
“Oh, come on,” Joel says, rubbing my back with one hand. “Your parents seem nice. Really nice. Unlike mine.”
“Not to mention mine,” Jet says darkly.
“I know.” I hang my head. “I know, okay? They just get under my skin.”
“Only we get to be under your skin,” Jet says softly, but a note of uncertainty on the last word makes it sound like a question.
“That’s right,” I whisper and hug both of them, smiling widely. “Only you two matter.”
At the end of the day, weird parents or not, I’m one lucky girl. I just hope this happiness lasts.
