“Are you insane?” She laughs. Turning back when the elevator dings open on her level, she huddles in again, but whispers, “It was with that jerk who wanted me when I was hot. But now I look like this, he got what he wanted and ran.”
I push her past Doctor Rhett and his suspicious glare, and into her room. I shut the door and whip the curtain open and closed as we pass through, then stomp on the wheelchair brakes and rush around to face her. “You’re not a virgin? Marcie! What the heck?”
“I never said that, Abigail. Geez.”
“Well…” I prod. “Are you?”
She snickers. “No, I’m not. It was awful, too. Not like in the books at all.”
“Really?” I’m almost disappointed; for her. For me. “Why was it awful?”
She shrugs. “It hurt… like, a lot. I don’t think he knew what he was doing, though he claimed he was some kind of stud in bed. He was rough and hurried, so when he…” She nods and glances toward her crotch. “Ya know… pushed it in, it wasn’t very nice. I think I’m supposed to be wet or something? It’s not like they teach you that in sex ed, but I figure I wasn’t supposed to be bone dry.”
I think back on my night with Spencer. Every time he touched me, it was a smooth glide. Easy movement. Pleasurable touches. ‘You’re so wet, Priss.’
“So maybe he did it wrong,” Marcie continues. “Or maybe I did. I don’t know, but he thought he was winning some kinda of horse race. He just kinda…” She scrunches her nose and grins. “He took care of himself, I guess. And when he was done, I was left lying there thinking ‘Is that it?’ All of the girls in my grade had been waxing poetic on how amazing sex is, how much fun it is, how it felt so good. So either they were lying, or I got a faulty dude.”
“I mean… It’s probably a little bit of both, I suspect.” I step back and lean against her bed. “You’re okay though, right? Did you need to discuss this with someone?”
“I just did,” she laughs. “I don’t know if I’ll rush into the next time. It just doesn’t seem like something I should aspire to do, ya know?”
“Mm…” I nod and act totally cool with this conversation. Until she drops the bomb.
“Did it hurt your first time?”
“Um…” My heart hammers, but she only watches me with gentle curiosity.Do I admit I’m twenty-five and less experienced than her? Do I lie and pretend I know more than I do?
I figure I should meet somewhere in the middle, so I consider the first time Spencer touched me, and nod. “Yes, it hurt a little bit. I was… um…” My face burns red. “Wet, I guess. But it still hurt a little bit.”
And then I think back to this morning. ‘We’ll work you up to that.’
“Don’t be afraid of men or sex. Women kind of… adjust.” I try the word and roll it around in my mouth. “Yeah, adjust. We grow more accepting, I guess, over time and practice.” My eyes widen. “Oh my gosh! That’s not to say I’m encouraging underage sex! Please god, don’t do that. I just meant, if at some point in the future, you find yourself with a man that youwantto have sex with, and if he treats you well and isn’t racing a horse to the finish line, you shouldn’t be afraid. It might hurt a little, but he should take care of you and make it pleasurable for you.”
She watches me with her lips pressed together and her cheeks puffed with laughter she holds back. “Wow, alrighty. Um… I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
“Shut up.” I literally fan my face, proving why I wasn’t very cool in high school. “Sheesh, why are you putting me on the spot like this?”
She giggles. “Because watching you blush is fun. But don’t worry, Dr. Phil, I won’t tell Mom that you said I should go out and lay men like they’re bricks on a construction site.”
“You’re impossible!”
But she’s smiling, so there’s that.