CHAPTER 25
Lila
W hen I started this internship three months ago, the last thing I pictured myself doing was running a sex ed workshop for the kids.
My work here has given me a much-needed confidence boost. Turns out Haniyah was right about me learning from Reed—what she doesn’t know is that some of the most valuable things he’s taught me don’t necessarily have to do with youth counseling.
All twenty kids who signed up for the workshop fill the classroom, and it hits me that tomorrow is my last day as an intern at the youth center. I’m not ready to say goodbye.
“Hi, guys,” I start, pushing the sad feelings away. “How are you today?”
“Good.” Cameron is the first one to answer. And he’s doing it with a smile. “I told my parents I wanted to be a boxer when I grow up, and they said yes.”
I beam. “That’s amazing, Cameron.”
“I wanted to be a pilot, but I saw a documentary about an air crash last night, and I don’t know anymore.” Sofia grimaces. “Maybe I’ll be a teacher.”
“You still have plenty of time to figure it out. Don’t worry too much about it,” I reassure her. “Is everybody ready to start?”
When they all nod, their attentive eyes on me, I take a deep breath and step into the role I was always meant to fill.
After making sure the camera at the back of the classroom is working—Reed wanted to record the session so he could watch it later, deciding not to be present to give me more of a real feel for the experience—I start with the first slide of my presentation.
“First of all, thank you so much for coming to this workshop,” I tell them. “I know you’re not used to these kinds of activities, but I’m glad you’re open to trying them out. Now, you were given some information last week for your parents so you’d know what to expect to learn today. Does anyone remember what we’re going to talk about?”
Trevor raises his hand. “Sex.”
The kids giggle, and I can’t help but roll my eyes playfully. Both Reed and Haniyah warned me they’d behave like this during the workshop, but I’m not bothered by it. As long as they learn something valuable today, I don’t mind how much or little they giggle along the way.
“Not exactly,” I clarify. “We’re going to learn about something called sexual education, which has to do with sex—you’re right about that, Trevor—but not exclusively. We’re going to start with our bodies.”
The first slide of my presentation shows the question: What is happening to my body?
I got the idea from one of the books my mom read to me when I first noticed hair growing on my legs and I didn’t understand why. Up until that point, I thought only men got body hair—men as old as my dad—and I had a full-on mental breakdown until my mom stepped in.
“As we grow up, our bodies change with us,” I start, looking each of them in the eye. “Just like we get taller, we also start seeing other changes, like pimples or body hair. It’s important that you understand that these changes can happen to anyone. For example...”
I change the slide. This one shows the word hair in big, bold letters surrounded by a few illustrations of body hair on arms, legs, and faces.
“Do you guys think body hair is something that only happens to boys? Or do you think girls can have body hair, too? Yes, Melody?”
“It happens to girls, too, because I have little hairs on my arms,” she says.
She rolls up her sleeve to show the other kids around her, who stare at her arm with interest.
A girl called Laura, who joined us for the workshop, perks up. “I’ve got those too!” She rolls up her sleeve as well. “A boy at school called me a gorilla because he said girls don’t have body hair.”
“That’s precisely what I wanted you to learn today,” I say. “Things like acne or body hair aren’t specific to boys or girls; they happen to everyone. We can’t control what our bodies do, so it’s not nice to make fun of anyone.”
We move on to acne, then periods. I also explain that boys need to show their support and understand periods are something natural and not gross. That it’s not okay to laugh at someone with a period stain and that they should help them instead.
“The most important thing you need to know about your body is that it’s yours,” I continue, fighting the lump in my throat.
I know my mom is okay now and that she’s healed from her sexual assault, but the reminder that she went through it still makes my chest cave in.
“What does that mean?” Angie asks.
“It means many things,” I explain. “But it all comes down to consent. Consent means saying something is okay to happen. You can give consent when you want to, and you can absolutely say no if something doesn’t feel right to you.”
I show them a few ways in which they can ask for consent as well as deny it. Then, I give them one of the worksheets I printed earlier.
“To get a better understanding of what consent means in your daily life, we’re going to do a quick activity called ‘What Would You Do?’ We’re going to read some hypothetical scenarios and discuss if you’d give your consent in those situations or not, and why. Santiago, could you read the first one?”
“ A family friend wants to give me a hug, but I don’t like physical contact, ” he reads.
“Good. In that case, what would you say to your family friend?”
He clears his throat. “I’d say I don’t like hugs, and I prefer handshakes.”
“That’s great, Santiago. But what if your family friend says that’s nonsense and they’d like to give you a hug anyway?”
He thinks about it. “I’d say no again.”
“They don’t listen, and they want to hug you anyway,” I press.
“I’d run for my mom.”
The kids laugh, picturing the scenario.
I nod. “It’s important not to give in just because someone asks many, many times. You need to listen to your belly voice—if it’s telling you not to give someone a hug or to run away, you do exactly that. Cameron, can you read the next one?”
“ My friend said they didn’t want to sit next to me on the bus, and now I’m sad, ” he reads.
“This one is a little different,” I explain. “In this case, you’re not the one giving or denying consent—your friend is. They said they didn’t want to sit with you, and it made you upset. What do you think the right thing to do would be, Cameron?”
His lips purse. “I think maybe my friend is upset about something and doesn’t want to talk.”
“It could be. Sometimes we want to be alone, and that’s fine. Would you sit next to your friend and try to make them feel better, then?”
Cameron pauses, thinking about it. “They said they wanted to be alone, so…I don’t think so.”
“Good. That way, you’ll be respecting their wishes. If someone wants your help, they’ll ask for it. It’s okay to ask them if they need any help, of course, but if they say no, that’s it. There’s no need to ask again. No is a full sentence—remember that.”
By the time we’re done with the worksheet, we only have a couple minutes left. I wish we could cover more topics, but I’m glad I even got to run this workshop in the first place.
“Unfortunately, we don’t have time for anything else today. But if you liked this workshop and would like another one, I’m sure Reed will run one for you. Just let him know.”
“Why not you?” Melody chimes in.
My smile wavers. “My internship ends tomorrow.”
I’m not expecting all twenty kids to gasp in horror.
“You’re leaving?” Melody shouts. “But you can’t!”
“Don’t tell Reed, but you’re much cooler than him,” says Cameron.
“Lila, you need to stay.”
“You can’t do this to us!”
“Ike will cry when we tell him.”
“Will you come visit us?” Melody asks, sounding genuinely concerned.
And just like that, my heart shatters.
“Of course I will.” Don’t cry now . Changing topics to avoid the impending emotional breakdown in public, I tell them, “Thank you so much for coming today. I hope you learned something new. And remember, if you ever have any questions about this or anything else, the youth center is a safe place to ask them. You’re free to go to the common room now.”
But they don’t leave. Instead, they ask me if I can give them a hug goodbye. We’re still hugging one another and trying not to cry when Reed opens the door minutes later.
He doesn’t look fazed by the hug fest in front of him. “Great work, guys. Can I talk to Lila for a second? You’ll see her tomorrow.”
It takes them another couple of minutes to leave the classroom. Reed doesn’t move from the door, crossing his bulging arms in front of his chest.
“That was…” He shakes his head, making my still-aching heart jump. “I couldn’t look away from the screen, Lila. Don’t ever doubt you’re a natural.”
I feel my cheeks heating up. “You were watching?”
“We both were.”
At first, I think he means Haniyah and him. She has been very vocal about her excitement for this workshop, so it wouldn’t surprise me if she had been behind the screen.
What I’m not expecting at all is for my mom to walk in.
I blink once, twice, wondering if I’ve hit my head and I’m seeing things. “Mom? What are you doing here?”
She closes the space between us and wraps me in a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you, Li.” The emotion in her voice makes me want to tear up again. “I was just telling Reed how confident you look. The kids were listening so attentively, too. They adore you.”
“You liked the workshop?” I ask, emotion clogging my voice.
I’m not ashamed to admit my mom’s opinion means everything to me. The fact that she’s here today, watching me run a workshop on sexual education after what she went through, feels like a full-circle moment I will never forget.
She pulls away, the raw emotion in her gaze mirroring mine. “It was incredible, honey. You were born to do this job.”
Who’s sticking cotton balls down my throat?
My mom beckons Reed to us, who tells me they were watching the workshop live from his office this whole time.
“I’ve also recorded it for Haniyah to watch later,” he explains.
“I know I say it all the time, but Dad and I are so proud of you, Lila,” my mom adds, which isn’t helping my tears situation.
We move our conversation to the front desk, where my mom gifts Haniyah and Reed some books for the library before giving me a hug goodbye. It’s not until I’m petting Ginny back in Reed’s office that I tell him what I’ve been pondering for weeks now.
“Reed?” I start.
He turns to look at me from his bookshelf. “Yeah?”
The late-fall moon shines through his office window, casting a glow over his chiseled body. Inside, only the soft glow of his lamp illuminates us.
“My internship ends tomorrow, but I’d like to come back as a volunteer if there’s a spot for me.”
He throws me a wink. “I thought you’d never ask.”