have time to go all the way. And honestly, I’m in no hurry.
Not that there wasn’t a ton of sex going on at the RC. It’s a very open place, where people are—as Big Jon would say—“free with their bodies.” But Mom kept things in our cabin pretty strict.
“I manage to keep my clothes on all the time,” she’d say, referring to the nude sunbathers who often populated the RC beach. “So should you.”
Still, we’d talk about it at teatime. Sometimes she’d add stronger herbs if something was wrong; then she called the drink Swamp Brew. The brew smelled like an old horse’s tail and tasted worse, but it instantly made everything better. During those hours, no topic was off limits, including going “all the way.”
“Make sure they say it,” she would stress. “Trust me. It won’t feel all that great, but if you’re with someone you love and who loves you, it will be good and worth remembering.”
“Who was your first time with?”
“It was someone wonderful,” she said. “A good friend, a good person. And that’s the kind of experience I want you to have.”
I always thought that was pretty awesome advice. I never worried about getting to be sixteen or even twenty and still being a virgin. Sure, I have hormones, so I get why kids do it earlier. There are times when all I can think about is rolling around naked in the sand with Reggie. In my fantasy he kisses me, tells me that I’m beautiful and rad and that he loves me and… you know. I always just figured we’d get around to it. No rush.
But now the person I finally found to do it with, maybe—my “someone wonderful”—is more than two thousand miles away. And at this point, it doesn’t look likely that I’ll ever see him again.
Grimly, I open my e-mail, the only reason I ever use the MacBook. I know it sounds weird—Crap! Why does everything I say always sound weird?—but I haven’t really gotten into this Internet thing yet. It just seems like a time suck. At the RC, we had one computer for the whole place, and it might as well have been powered by a sick hamster. It took five minutes just to get a home page up. Plus, all the people I wanted to talk to were around me, anyway, so I didn’t need e-mail or IM or texting or Skype.
But now that I’m stranded away from them all, I’m trying to get into it. Mostly I’m finding, though, that it’s just another way to realize that Reggie’s not missing me nearly as much as I miss him. He’s called only once and e-mailed just twice in three weeks. It’s hard to blame him; the RC has only one pay phone, and then there’s that moon-landing-era community computer. Still, it would be nice if he’d borrow someone’s cell once in a while… or something.
But hang on! An e-mail, finally! Holding my breath, I click on the message and open it:
from: [email protected]
Hey Alex! What’s up? Life on the RC is exactly the same.
(Even though I’m not there?)
We played mud ball today
(Wait. Mud ball is my favorite game. And they’re playing it without me?)
with some new kids. They’re in from Oregon, five girls and guys
(Girls? What girls?)
and they’re pretty cool. Katrina is especially funny.
(Katrina?)
Anyway, hope all’s cool in Florida.
(Florida???????)
Bet there are some weird parties down there. By the way, we all might go to the Bluegrass Festival in San Francisco. You know I’m not into that hippie stuff, but I’ll try and nab you a bootleg.
Good times,
Reggie
I close the laptop, feeling completely miserable. Good times? Good times? That’s all he can come up with? I mean, I think about this guy every second. Like, he is constantly taking up valuable space in my brain. And all he can say is “good times”?
Downstairs, I hear the door open and shut. Miss Lee must be home. I spend the next hour hiding in my room, thinking about Reggie playing mud ball with sexy girls and how I’ll be an ostracized, out-of-place virgin for the rest of my days.
Oh my God, I hate my life.
“Alexaaaandria…” My grandmother is just outside the door.
“Hi, Grandmo—I mean, Miss Lee.”
“How are you, dear?”
“Okay.”
She sounds a little suspicious. “What were you doing today?”
For once, I’ve got the right answer. “Shopping with Hayes and Madison. We’re going to a party later.”
“Excellent!” she says. “Darling, do you mind freshening up and then meeting me in my bedroom? I have