Those Autofellatio Blues Ch. 11

I like sex, I love it, but I didn't like what I was doing, with Julia, with Bridget, even with Elaine. I wanted a girlfriend, I wanted someone to love me for more than my penis. The problem was, the girl I wanted was Bridget, and all I could see with her was misery and heartbreak. "I should tell her I'm not going to the prom with her," I said aloud, hoping that actually speaking the words would make it so. But it didn't. She was too beautiful, too magical. I couldn't break her hold on me. All I could do now was hang on and play the game as best I could.

I drove until it got dark. I stopped at a drug store and bought a roll of Certs and a pack of those Old Spice wipes and gave myself a thorough and fragrant cleaning. When I got home and walked through the door Mom and Dad were sitting in the living room, watching TV. "Hey, slugger," Dad said cheerily, "What's up?" I could tell that he and Mom had already had sex, that she'd told him all about her encounter with Bridget, and given him a taste of the dildo that my sexy classmate had slipped inside her pussy as a special treat for him.

"Not much." I said. "Not much at all."

"Hey, we ordered pizza for dinner. Want me to warm some up for you?" Without waiting for an answer he jumped up and went to the kitchen. Leaving me and Mom alone.

"Sit down, honey, I need to talk to you."

I bet you do, I thought as I sat. She said, "I'm sorry I was so brusque with you today. The reason I wanted you to leave was because I invited Bridget over, to talk to her about...well, to talk."

"What did you talk about?" I asked, knowing damn well that they'd done much more than talk.

"About her intentions. And yours. She's a bad girl, honey. She told me that if I didn't break off my relationship with Julia she would break your heart. That's why she asked you to the prom, why she's being nice to you. She just wants to get back at me."

"She told you this?"

"She did, straight out."

I shrugged. "Well, it's not that big a surprise, is it?"

Mom looked surprised. "Wait, that's what you thought she was doing?"

"Sure. I'm not an idiot."

"Then why are you still going out with her?" Mom asked, exasperated.

I stared at her. "Because I'm not an idiot."

For a few seconds she didn't know what to say. I'd caught her off guard. Then she said, "Tomorrow I want you to tell her that you're not going to the prom with her."

"Tomorrow I'm going with her to get my hair cut and get my tuxedo." When she started to speak I cut her off. "It's not open for discussion. I'm not breaking off our date."

"So you are an idiot," Mom said. "She flutters her lashes at you and you do whatever she wants."

"If that was true I doubt I'd be the only person around who couldn't resist her," I said, and let the accusation hang in the air, "but it isn't true. I'm not going to sleep with her. I'm not going to become her slave. I'm going to the prom with her. That's it."

Mom's anger was replaced by concern. "I know how strongly you feel about this girl. If you have sex with her, you WILL be her slave. She's a very scary girl, she's very formidable. She wants to hurt you, honey. And if you give her the chance, she'll do it."

"So I won't give her the chance. I'm not going to sleep with her. I'm not afraid of her." I was angry and I couldn't stop the words. "I'm a big boy, and I can take care of myself. And I don't need you butting in and making things worse!"

That's when Dad came back with the pizza. He either ignored or was oblivious to the dark cloud hanging over the room. "Oh, forgot something to drink," Dad chirped. "You want a Pepsi, iced tea, a beer?"

"If you're buying, a beer," I said, and he left to get it. And then I remembered what I thought when I was spying on Mom and Bridget earlier in the day. Mom offered Bridget a glass of wine, and Bridget said no, iced tea was fine. And I thought that was an example of Bridget showing that she was so mature that the childish offer of alcohol was an insult, that she was so sophisticated that a glass of wine didn't interest her. And here I was jumping at a bottle of Bud. Maybe I wasn't as mature as I thought.

"Mom," I said quietly. She was watching TV but I knew she heard me. "If you knew that Bridget was really going to rip out my heart, and the only way to prevent it was to break things of with Julia, would you? Would you stop seeing Julia if you knew that was the only way to keep Bridget from hurting me?"

"It's a pointless question," Mom said, her voice coming from the icy depths of a meat locker. "You're a big boy. You can take care of yourself."

Dad came back with the beer. I ate, and drank, without tasting. When I finished I got up and took my plate to the kitchen, and the second I was out of the room I heard Mom and Dad talking and laughing at the show they were watching. I went up to my room and shut the door. I felt about as low as I ever had in my life. I was on my own, now. It was just me and Bridget, to see who could get what they wanted from the other. I remembered what I heard her say earlier in the day, when I was hiding under my mother's bed and she though she was alone. She said, "Danny...I almost don't want to go through with this." Go through with what?

I had homework to do. I did it. I went to bed. It had been a long, hard day. And there were harder, longer days to come.