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Filling up the Virgin(87)

By:Amy Brent


“I have to say that I’m impressed.” I could hear her slurred words. It most likely came from an abundance of champagne that was flowing. “Don’t be too much longer. His curfew will be done in the next 2 hours. I’m going to bed. I believe that I’m going to grab your father.” She didn’t come out and say the word sex, but I had a feeling that a game of mattress tag was in my father’s future. She was flushed and it was obvious from the way that she was swaying that she was in an inebriated state of euphoria.

“I really don’t need to know these things. I don’t know why you can’t seem to keep it in your pants.” I knew that it was a stupid thing to say. It most likely came from my own sexual frustration. The boys in my school were horn dogs. I really didn’t feel that there was anything there to pursue other than physical pleasure. I wanted something more than that, but there were times when I was this close to letting some pubescent boy take advantage of me.

“You are 18 years old and you should know by now about the birds and bees. You see, Jessica when a mommy and daddy loves each other very much they express it in a certain way. When you have a boyfriend you’ll need to know these things.” It was a condescending tone and one that made me look at her like she was crazy. “Maybe you don’t know this, but I don’t think that it’s my place to tell you where all the parts go. Perhaps, you should use the Internet and find out what you need to know.” If looks could kill, she would be writhing on the floor gasping for breath. At that moment, if she was drowning, I would probably offer her a drink of water.

“I don’t know why you constantly get on my case, Allison.” I didn’t give her the courtesy or the satisfaction of calling her anything other than her first name. She was definitely not my mother, no matter how much she tried to force herself into that role. She thought when she said jump that I should ask how high.

“You just bring it out in me, little girl. Now, if you’ll excuse me, your father is waiting for me naked in our bedroom.” It made me cringe to think that my father even had sex. “I suggest that you put on some noise canceling headphones, because TODAAAY…it’s going to get loud.” She knew as well as I did that the wing of the estate that they were in was practically sound proof. She was just needling me for the sake of trying to get underneath my skin.

“You’re disgusting, but you are good for my father. I know that you love him and that’s pretty obvious from the way that you look at him. I’m sure that you never imagined that you were going to have a stepdaughter. All we can do is try to coexist and get along for his sake. We don’t have to like each other, but we can learn to live with each other. It’s been a year. I’m doing what I can to stay out of your way and I suggest that you do the same thing for me. If we continue to go at it like this, eventually one of us is going to get hurt and it’s not gonna be me.” She shook her hand at me like she was scared and she whistled a happy tune going down the hallway with her purse swinging back and forth.

I was not much for social interactions and my best friend Helena was exactly the same way. I could make friends and I could fake it with the best of them, but I didn’t have to put on airs when I was around Helena.

I picked up his dirty underwear and I could smell his manly musk. I was tempted to move it closer to my nose, but that would have been taking things a little bit too far. I tossed them into laundry basket along with other pieces of clothing that probably could’ve stood up on their own.

I found a pile of clean clothes and I put them back where they were supposed to be. I couldn’t understand how anybody could live like this. I did find a couple of pieces of old discarded pizza underneath the bed and the dresser. It was a wonder they didn’t attract small wildlife or ants. This would’ve been a great breeding ground for cockroaches. The very idea of anything creepy and crawly made me tremble and not in a good way.

I found his collection of memorabilia from Michael Jackson. It made me smile to think that he was actually into the most charismatic man that had put on a white glove. His death hit me hard and I could tell that we had at least one thing in common. I looked around and found an honest to goodness record player. I slipped the LP of thriller out of its jacket and put it on. I could hear his voice ring out like he was still alive.

I continued cleaning, but there were times I stopped to immerse myself into the words of Beat It and Billie Jean. I caught myself in the world of a lost legend that had left us all too soon.

I finally noticed that it was 11:15PM and he was already 15 minutes past his curfew. It didn’t matter. He could do practically anything he wanted. He could walk on water in the eyes of his mother and my stepmother Allison. My father wanted desperately to forge of relationship with Anthony, but it was still a work in progress. I had this funny feeling that he wanted the son that he never had. He might’ve been trying a little bit too hard and maybe backing off and letting Anthony come to him would be more his speed.