Sweet Bliss

Sweet Bliss

Gone but never forgotten...

Katy raced to the mailbox as soon as she saw the mail truck pass. As she opened the mailbox door, her heart was pounding, and there it was -- a thick envelope from Jackson College. Her dream college ever since middle school and a thick envelope meant she had been accepted.

"Mom -- Mom," she shouted as she ran towards the house. "I've been accepted -- I've been accepted," she kept repeating as she raced for the front door.

"That's great, Katy," her mother said with almost as much excitement as her daughter. "Go call your Dad and let him know; I know he'll be just as excited." Her mom paused for a second before adding, "Now we'll just have to find a way to pay for it."

"You said I could go to any school that would accept me," Katy breathlessly exclaimed, her voice shaking with excitement.

"Yes, I know Katy. It's just that reality has now set in, and we'll have to figure out away. You had better start on the Financial Aid Package right away -- maybe even before your father gets home."

"I know, Mom, I know," Katy shouted as she dashed upstairs to her room to call all of her friends and find out if any of them had heard from their first-choice schools.

Jackson College

On the campus of Jackson College that first day, Katy was as nervous as the proverbial 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,' but she was also beaming with pride as she had planned on majoring in art and design for as long as she could remember. And Jackson had one of the most respected Fine Arts Departments in the country.

Her roommates turned out to be Shelly, another Art/Design major from Kansas City, and Pamela, a psychology major from Rolla, a small-town Katy had never heard of in Southern Missouri. Shelly turned out to be pretty cool. She and Katy had a lot in common besides the same academic major, and they quickly became close friends. Shelly was from Kansas City, which was a little larger than Wichita, but still similar in many ways. And she also came from a conservative evangelical family, just like Katy.

On the other hand, Pamela was raised in a smaller city with more liberal parents and with no particular religious or political convictions. And as you might expect from teenagers away from home for the first time in their lives, Katy and Shelly could not wait to spread their wings and kick up their heels. Pamela had been given much more freedom during her high school years, and as the three girls began their college experience together, she was the far more mature one of the group. Pamela wasn't a prude or self-righteous. She just seemed to possess far more street smarts and common sense than either Katy or Shelly. Her primary goal at Jackson was to get a first-class college education. Partying was a side benefit only allowed for if and when time permitted.

It wasn't two weeks into their first semester before Katy and Shelly were spending more time consumed by their newfound freedom than on their studies. In Katy's defense, she was a gifted artist, and her art and design classes were a breeze. But as for her general studies classes, well, that may have been a different story. She had never made less than a B in her life, but the mandatory English and history classes just didn't seem as important as her newfound social life.

She soon had a boyfriend; one she didn't have to parade before her parents for certain disapproval. His name was Ricky. He was a little older than her and of mixed Puerto Rican and Jewish ancestry. In her parent's eyes, that would have been three strikes, and you're out. He was older, never good as he may have had 'mature experiences' as they would have said, plus being Puerto Rican, he may have been 'non-white,' and then there was the whole Jewish thing -- well, let's not even go there.

But this was precisely what Katy longed for. Dark, handsome, exotic, and the biggest plus of all, experienced. Ricky was old enough to buy alcohol, he knew where all the good parties were, and he had access to drugs. Now nothing too serious, she told herself -- just pot -- mostly. And he was so God damn sexy. Katy surrendered her virtue to him within three weeks of meeting him, and she loved it. I mean, she really loved it! She could not get enough of his body, and she couldn't believe it had taken her eighteen years to experience sex for the first time. Why had she waited so long? And why had her deceitful parents been holding her back all these years? She had her freedom now, and it was time to catch up.

* * *

Sunday had always been a day reserved for church and family time back home in Kansas, but not here at Jackson. As the sunlight shimmered between the cracks in the dorm room curtains, Katy struggled to open her eyes and asked aloud, "What time is it anyway?"

"It's almost eleven," she heard Shelly's voice say.

"Wow, almost eleven," Katy said, still trying to focus on the ceiling or anything for that matter.

"Boy, did you ever get fucked-up last night," Shelly said, still lying on her own bed.

Holding her head in an attempt to get the room to stop spinning, Katy asked, "What do you mean -- fucked-up."

Shelly started to laugh, causing her bed to squeak, which only made her laugh more.

"She means you were literally 'Fucked-Up'," Pamela interjected from across the room with a disgusted tone in her voice.

At that point, Shelly burst into laughter and laughed so hard tears were rolling down her cheeks.

Katy sat up in bed. "What do you mean?" She asked in a more serious voice.

Pamela, who was sitting at her desk trying to study, turned in her chair to face Katy and said, "She means you fucked every guy at that party last night. You're the new slut of Jackson College."

Reaching under the covers, Katy ran her hand across her crotch. She realized that she was still wearing the same skirt she had on when she left the dorm yesterday. But she was no longer wearing any panties, and as she ran her hands across her crotch, she also realized that something must have happened last night. However, she honestly had no recollection of what.

Katy knew Pamela hadn't been at the party, but Shelly certainly had. She paused in thought for a second as she continued to rub her privates. "Shelly -- what happened last night?" She finally said in a perplexed tone.

Shelly, still lying face down in her own bed, turned her head toward her friend, and trying not to laugh, said, "Pamela is right; you fucked every guy at that party last night."

There was a long pause before Katy said, "I don't remember -- I only slept with Ricky -- I'm pretty sure."

Shelly stopped laughing and sat up in bed. "No sweetie, Ricky might have been the first guy to screw you last night, but once he was done with you, he passed you around to every guy there like a bottle of cheap whiskey at a frat party."

"How come I don't remember," Katy said, still trying to figure out how she got back to her dorm room at all.

"You were stoned out of your fucking mind," Pamela shouted, wishing they would carry on the conversation someplace else so she could study.

Shelly swung her feet off the edge of her bed, stood up, and walked over to Katy's. She was only wearing a t-shirt that fell just a few inches below her hips, leaving most of her ass exposed. She sat down on Katy's bed and pulled her friend's head down so that it lay in her lap.

"Sweetie, I don't know what they gave you, but Pamela's right. You were stoned out of your gourd. You and Ricky started making out on the couch around 8:30 or 9:00 -- do you remember that?" Shelly asked as she stroked Katy's hair.

"Yeah -- I remember that," Katy responded after some thought.

"Well, I know they slipped something into your drink, because as the two of you were making out, you kept saying you were getting hot, and you started stripping off your clothes -- all of your clothes. Do you remember that?" Shelly asked.

Katy thought, but she couldn't remember a thing. She shook her head no, but that only caused the room to start spinning again. She finally asked, "Where were you?"

"Oh, I was there," Shelly assured her.

"Well -- how come you didn't help me?" Katy asked in a pondering voice, her head still in Shelly's lap.

"Because you are both a couple of sluts," Pamela shouted in disgust as she slammed her books closed and crammed them into her backpack.

As Pamela stormed from the room, Shelly shouted, "Hey -- you're no virgin!"

"I never claimed to be," Pamela yelled back, just before slamming the door on her way out. "But at least I know the name, phone number, and address of every guy I've ever slept with."

"Your brother doesn't count," Shelly yelled at her, but it was too late. Pamela was gone and didn't hear the intended insult. But Katy did and started laughing. "I didn't mean it," Shelly said. "She just pisses me off sometimes -- and at least it made you laugh."

* * *

An hour later, sipping coffee in the student union, Katy asked seriously, "Did every guy there actually fuck me?"

"I don't know Katy -- I think so," Shelly responded somberly.

"Was I -- raped?" Katy questioned.

"Katy, I don't know. You appeared to be a very willing participant. Ricky would just make a suggestion, and you'd do it -- like some kind of cheerful zombie. He'd say, 'Suck that guy,' or 'Fuck that dude,' and you would just do it."

Katy started to cry, "How come you didn't help me?"

Shelly now started to cry herself, "I don't know Katy -- I don't know. I was just about as stoned as you. And at the time, it just seemed like fun. You were having a great time, and you seemed so happy. I'm so sorry."

"Did you fuck every guy there?" Katy asked.

"No -- no. I sucked a few dicks, but I didn't fuck anybody," Shelly responded.

"And Ricky was there?" Katy asked, as her eyes again filled with tears.

"Oh yeah -- he was there. He was directing you around the room like a trained monkey. He's an asshole, Katy. He's a real asshole," Shelly insisted.

After a long pause and loudly blowing her nose into a paper napkin, Katy sobbed, "What do I do Shelly -- what do I do?"

"You just have to put it behind you Katy -- just move on, dump that shit-head Ricky and move on," Shelly said and then added. "You're on birth control -- right?"

Katy somberly shook her head no.

"Oh crap -- you're not on birth control!" Shelly exclaimed. "What in the hell have you and Ricky been doing for the last several months?"

"Condoms -- he wears a condom. At least he normally does," Katy answered as her spirits continued to sink lower and lower.

* * *

On the bus ride home to Wichita for Christmas Break, Katy agonized over what she was going to tell her parents. It wasn't just her lousy grades -- oh, she had A's in her art classes, of course -- those were easy. But a C in American History and a D in Freshman English were the worst grades she had ever posted in her life. Katy had always been a disciplined student, but that was living at home under her parent's roof and watchful eyes. On her own, a dedication to her studies was much more challenging.

However, the real dilemma was explaining to her parents that she was pregnant. And to add insult to injury -- she didn't even know who the father was. Once she realized she was knocked up, she confronted Ricky. He was absolutely horrible to her. Not only did he deny any responsibility, but he also threw in her face that she had had sex with a dozen guys that night, and he was the only one that wore a condom. It probably wasn't really a dozen guys, it was perhaps more like a half-dozen, but the point was well made. And to claim that they had never had sex without a condom was just a flat-out lie. Shelly was at least right about Ricky -- he was a total asshole.

Katy had been told all her life that bad news doesn't get better over time. When her parents picked her up at the bus station, she was already in tears. Once in the car, her mom asked what was wrong, and Katy handed her the first-semester report card. Her mom gasped after reading it out loud from the front seat.

"If you can't do better than that, you might as well move back home and go to Wichita State," her father scowled.

As tears really now began to stream from Katy's eyes, she fought a growing lump in her throat to say, "That's not the worst of it -- I'm pregnant."

Her mother gasped again. And as her father tightened his grip on the steering wheel to the point, he began cutting off the circulation to his own fingers -- a deathly silence fell over the car.

Once at home, sitting at the kitchen table, her mom finally asked, "So who's the father?"

Katy dropped her head as tears streamed down her cheeks -- then in a moment of 'yank the band-aide off' courage, she raised her head and said, "I don't know."

In a moment of uncontrolled shock and disgust, Katy's mom reached across the table and slapped Katy's face hard enough to instantly leave a large ruby red mark. Katy had never had her face slapped in her life. Oh, as a child, she'd had her butt paddled more than once. But her parents had not laid a hand on her in over twelve years, and even then, they had never, ever slapped her face.

"Were you raped?" her father asked indignantly.

Katy just slowly shook her head no. Her father, his face rapidly turning red with anger, stormed from the kitchen in total disgust. Katy's mom just sat there speechless -- in utter disbelief.

Abortion was never an option. Katy's parents were ultra-conservative and had actively campaigned against all abortions for as far back as she could remember. Her father opposed all abortions, even in case of rape or incest. However, her mother had always been curiously silent, at least, on that point. And Katy never seriously considered abortion as an option anyway. That much of her upbringing did seem to stick.

Katy did not go back to Jackson after the Christmas break. She moved back into her old room, and her parents got her a job at Hobby Lobby. The job only paid minimum wage, and she needed the money to help offset her medical bills. However, the store manager let her go when it became apparent she was pregnant and wouldn't wear a wedding band.

Katy's parents convinced her to put the baby up for adoption at the moment of birth. They insisted that there were many loving Christian couples out there that couldn't have children of their own and that it was always better for the child to be raised by a committed couple -- a mother and a father. If raised by a single mom, the child would always be at a disadvantage. Besides, this would allow Katy to get her life back on track -- 'start-over' was the expression they kept using.

Secretly Katy always felt that their insistence on adoption had more to do with her not knowing who the father was more than anything else. She was sure they privately agonized over it; what if the baby wasn't healthy (i.e., normal) or heaven forbid if it wasn't white. But in any event, Katy didn't see many options and grudgingly agreed to the adoption.

* * *

Katy's baby boy was born July 23 at the Wesley Medical Center in Wichita. The name on the basinet simply read, 'Baby Boy Franklin.' He was a perfectly healthy baby boy that weighed in at a whopping eight pounds-nine ounces. And he was white! At least if it was any consolation, Ricky probably wasn't the father as her baby was big and chunky, very white, and he appeared to be blonde and blue-eyed. Ricky had absolutely none of those physical characteristics. She racked her brain trying to think who the father might actually be. But she couldn't think of anyone. There were seven or eight guys at the party that night, and one of them did look like a big blonde football player -- but she had no idea what his name might have been -- and it certainly didn't make any difference now.

Katy was allowed to nurse her baby that first evening and then again at four o'clock the next morning, but that was it. As her breakfast was being served, she was told the adoption agency had come by and picked up her baby. Katy didn't eat breakfast that morning -- she just laid in her bed and cried.

* * *

As August rolled around, Katy informed her mother that she was ready to go back to Jackson and pick up her college career where she had left off.

"Your father and I have decided not to send you back to Jackson," her mother said, standing at the kitchen sink, trying to avoid making eye contact with her daughter.

"What do you mean?" Katy exclaimed.

Turning to face her daughter and wiping her hands on her apron, Katy's mother calmly said, "The cost is simply prohibitive sending you back to a private school. We've decided to enroll you at Wichita State instead, and you can live here at home."

Katy was speechless, "What?" she cried. "You always promised me I could go to any school that accepted me -- well, Jackson accepted me!"

"Well, that was before," her mother said.

"Before what, Mother?" Katy hissed. "Before I got knocked up -- is that what you mean?"

"Katy, I think we made a huge mistake sending you so far away to school. You would have been much better off staying here in town and living at home. And it would have been much cheaper -- we're not rich, you know," her mother tried to explain.

"It's so you and Dad can keep an eye on me -- isn't it? Well, I'm an adult now, and you'll just have to get used to it," Katy said, as her nostrils flared, and her voice choked with emotion.

Flustered that her daughter was talking back to her for the first time since she was a toddler and subject to a spanking, her mom said, "Well then you'll just have to pay for it."

"You promised me -- you and Dad promised me a college education of my choice. Now you're going back on your word. You stole my baby from me, and now you're going to steal my God Damn education as well?" Katy stammered, fighting to hold back her tears.

"Don't you dare use that kind of language with me, young lady," her mother said, trying to regain control of the conversation.

"Fuck you Mom -- fuck you and Dad both!" Katy screamed. "I made one God Damn mistake, and you stole my baby, and now you're trying to steal my education -- an education you promised me. Fuck you, fuck you...."

Katy's mother was speechless as she backed up to the kitchen counter for support. She didn't even know Katy knew such language, much less would use it to address her parents. Katy flew from the kitchen and ran upstairs to her room, slamming doors as she went.

As Katy's mother was on the phone with Katy's father, she just managed to catch a glimpse of their daughter flying down the stairs and dashing out the front door -- bags in hand and a backpack over her shoulder. Katy's parents never saw their daughter again.

The Camel Toe Club

Katy called several of her friends from high school before one offered to take her in. Katy and Veronica had known each other since grade school. They weren't the closest of friends, but still friends enough when the need arose. Veronica lived in a crappy apartment south of the McConnell Air Force Base with another girl -- Emily. Katy had never met Emily before, but she seemed nice enough, and in fact, she sort of reminded her of a female version of Ricky. She was probably of mixed ancestry, had a couple of tattoos, plus she drank and smoked pot -- as did Veronica.

The place was a dump, but safe from her parents, and the girls weren't all that demanding about the first month's rent. Katy realized going back to Jackson was impossible -- at least for a year or two. So, she tried enrolling at Wichita State. There was no problem with her transferring her credits from Jackson, her high school transcript, or her SAT scores; those were all fine. The issue was money. Though Wichita State was less than a quarter the cost of Jackson, she would have to pay at the start of the semester, and financial aid was out of the question, because she was under twenty-one, and it would still need to involve her parents, and there was no way she was going to do that.