18. Gigi
CHAPTER 18
Gigi
EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD
I swallow a big gulp of nothing when my eyes catch the three big circles on my calendar. 18th of May, 25th of May, and 30th of June—all marked by a red Sharpie.
When we decided on what to do, it was before Christmas. Graduation still felt like a long time away back then, but now? Andrew’s is three months and eighteen days from today, and after mine takes place, we’re finally going to do it. We’re finally going to have sex.
I’m pacing around the room, taking a mental note of everything that we said we would prepare. Andrew still needs to buy the condoms, and I went to the gynecologist yesterday to inform myself about the Depo-Provera injection. He still needs to buy his ticket to New York, and I still need to lie to my dad and tell him that I will be arriving a day later than I actually am. We still need to book a room for the night.
This is finally happening, Gigi. You’re going to have sex. And Andrew is going to join you to go to New York and meet your dad for the first time.
The phrases purity ring and son of a preacher man pop up every time his school friends meet me and ask why we haven’t done the deed yet. I can’t blame them. He’s the only guy on his basketball team who hasn’t, and I quote, dipped his dick in pussy yet.
But the decision to abstain from sex didn’t come from his religious background, even if most people seem to think so and have no qualms about using the Palmers’ devout Christianity as a running joke. No, it’s coming from me. My wonderful boyfriend is just too nice to say anything back. I wouldn’t care if he told them the truth, it’s not like I go to school with these idiots, anyway. I only have to see them during Andrew’s games and the occasional parties.
Andrew is your normal teenage boy. When we both got ourselves out of the friendzone, he came in hot and heavy. And it’s not like we don’t do anything at all. I know what a dick tastes like on my tongue and what a tongue feels like on my vagina. It’s just the dick in vagina part that I have hang-ups about.
But he knows why I don’t want to rush into it. When I told him that my parents had me young, and seeing their marriage practically disintegrate in front of my eyes because of a lethal combination of crazy work schedules, high living costs, and having a kid make me scared shitless about having an unplanned pregnancy, he has been nothing but understanding. Even when I told him that I was waiting because I wanted to make sure that it’s with the right person. The dude must be an actual saint because if he was offended by what I said, he didn’t show it.
I was a surprise baby from my parents’ one night stand. They got married soon after the second stripe on the pregnancy test showed up because they were raised Catholic and it was the right thing to do.
It turns out you can still do everything right and still make a mess of yourself.
They used protection? My mom still got knocked up. They got married? The two of them still got divorced. So when my parents decided to do the birds and bees talk with me and told me to make sure that whoever I have sex with is the right guy, I took that shit to heart. They know first-hand what would happen if you do it with the wrong person.
Is Andrew the right guy? I blush at the thought. I’m 99 percent sure. He’s cute, sweet, and charming. He also brings me flowers every time he watches me cheer, even though it’s for Kinsdale Springs High and the sport I’m cheering for is football. I’m planning on saying I love you soon, if he doesn’t beat me to it, of course.
It blows my mind that he and Luke could be as close as they are. I haven’t met him enough times to be able to form a solid opinion about him, but the whispers I hear at school? God damn…people say he was one of the rudest, most arrogant guys to have ever roamed the halls. He rejects invites to parties and never goes to dances like he’s too cool for school. Apparently, he also sleeps with girls only to distance himself from them afterward. I know this from one of his victims. She’s in my bio class. When she figured out who I was, she couldn’t keep her mouth shut about him. Luke should know better. The more you ghost them, the more interested they become.
My bladder is begging me to wake up. Cursing at myself for chugging down the cup of tea I had before bed, I slowly open my eyes. I’m summoning the willpower to actually stand up and drag myself to the toilet when I hear the sound of someone’s car engine downstairs. Mom must be back from her shift.
I wonder what time it is right now. My phone is in my hands, but my brain blurs out the information I was looking for just five seconds ago. Instead, my eyes zone in on the notification that pops up.
I click.
Unknown number
Do you think church boy will confess his sins?
Under the text is a thumbnail of a video. Without pressing the triangle in the middle, I already have a hunch about what I’m going to see. The thumbnail shows a guy with dirty blond locks that I sometimes twirl with my index finger grabbing the hips of some random girl I don’t know.
I feel a pool of tears forming on my bottom lash line, but I press play anyway.
Andrew is still wearing the T-shirt that he had on when he came over for dinner tonight. I wonder if the girl grinding on him in the video could still smell the lasagna I made for him and Becca. Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, they start making out. Whoever was recording must have been trying to do it discreetly. You can see it by the way the camera is often blocked by a person passing by or someone’s red solo cup from time to time. Their conversations are muffled, too; the only thing I can hear is the bass of a remixed song. But I don’t need a clear shot or high-quality sound; I know what the fuck he’s trying to show me. My boyfriend is shoving his tongue down another girl’s throat while she’s pressing her ass against his dick. A breathy gasp escapes my lips when I see Andrew walking away from the makeshift dance floor, only to open the door of, judging by the white tiles on the wall, the bathroom.
There must be an explanation for this. He must be drunk off his ass or maybe he tried drugs. His friends must be threatening him with a gun.
My heart sinks when he turns around to close the door and I see her palms on his stomach, tugging the shirt up as she feels up his abs. The damn thing almost stops working when I see him look in the direction of my secret good Samaritan and wink before closing the door.