You are River. Nearly 21 years of age and still depressingly for you a virgin. Three long years, dividing your time between studying engineering and partying at Cambridge University left you no closer in achieving the loss of your cherry.
Not from lack of wanting or trying mind you, it’s not that your unattractive quite the opposite in fact, average height, athletic build, dazzling smile and outgoing personality made you the fantasy of many English girls across the pond.
It’s true you did enjoy a fair few heated make out sessions in your dorm room. However that’s as far as it ever went. Just when things ever came close and the possibility of going all the way arose, you just couldn't do it. Nerves took over and you would just clam up, ending in an embarrassing situation of having to politely turn down any further advancement to disappointed and pitying gazes.
You've always been frustrated by the fact that you just couldn't physically let it go any further. All the girls you could have been with were ‘nice’ but you just didn't feel anything other than amity towards them.
Another barrier in preventing you from getting any was the fact that you also found the prospect of one night stands unappealing. This was probably due to the ideology of your mother which she had been quick to impose on you and
your sisters individually when growing up through puberty.
The quote that had always come back to haunt you was “Sex is great but it is so much better when you’re doing it with someone you love, don’t give away your virginity lightly”.
Always having a healthy relationship with your mother you took her words to heart. You always desired her approval when growing up and tried to gain it in any way possible, through sporting accomplishments, to top school grades or just simply doing unexpected nice things for her.
Consequently this somewhat unusual behaviour earned you the title of ‘mommies’ boy’ from your father. However you didn’t and still don’t care of his opinion and so to this very day you often still go out of your way to make your mom proud. Therefore when she suggested saving yourself for someone you loved. You promised yourself to do as she said. You’d foolishly thought that mom would be impressed that you followed her advice, without realising at the time that she wouldn't actually know you had listened.
You did have one question for her though “How do I know if I love someone enough mommy?”
To which she responded cryptically as parents often do “Believe me you’ll know when”
Her words stuck with you throughout your teenage years, you just didn't understand, the only people you truly loved were your own family, but that didn't make sense because you weren't supposed to ‘make love’ to your relatives. However these thoughts continued to plague you until you eventually concluded that maybe the only way to get over your fear was to have sex with your own flesh and blood, question was which one should you choose.
You shake your head while driving down the interstate, serving the dual purpose of whipping the wayward fringe of hair out of your eyes and also flushing away those recurring dark thoughts. Now you’re back in your hometown and country of origin you have the opportunities to start acting on your urges.
Glancing down for a second to turn up the song on the radio you resume your humming and tapping of your fingers on the steering wheel to your Honda Civic. Keeping your eyes on the road, but day dreaming slightly you fast forward a couple of hours’ time to being reunited with your family. Boy you’ve missed them all…well maybe not dad, but everyone else - even Rebecca who can be a huge pain in the arse at times.
Sometimes you question leaving America and your family to finish off your education in England, but ultimately it was always apparent that it was best decision. The gamble paid off since now you have a fancy engineering degree any employer will find hard to ignore. But you knew when you made the decision three years ago to study abroad that it would be hard leaving, on both you and your family.
You think that your departure affected your mom and little sister Emily the most. Well you just don’t think you know so. When saying goodbye at the airport both of them made quite a scene, breaking down in hysterical fits of tears. Your mother finally realised after months of preparation and planning that she wouldn't be able to see her ‘baby’ until he graduated. Emily was equally as distraught if not worse. She begged you, then mom and finally your father amidst fits of tears to let her go with you but to no avail (since she was 15 at the time and not yet finished high school it was completely out of the question, it would ruin her education and disrupt your own).
At the time it felt devastating to see them in so much pain, but now looking back on the images that float across your memory you find them quite amusing. Not to mention rather pleasing at how obvious it was that they would miss your presence.
You can picture Rebecca now, standing stiffly off to one side trying to look like she wasn’t part of your little group. Rolling her blue eyes at your mother in exasperation, as onlookers watched your dad trying to forcefully extract her and Emily from their death like grasp that they had on you.
Chuckling slightly you remember having to sprint to the plane having nearly missed your flight due to the almost implausible amount of time it took to firstly detach Emily from your body (she hung on like a baby koala bear refusing to let go) and then secondly calm her down enough to finally let you leave, by eventually promising her that you would call and talk on the phone every day until your return.
Sighing softly while cruising into and parking at conveniently placed service station to relieve yourself, you imagine how everyone will react to your return. You didn’t exactly give them much notice. Only a week ago you phoned up your mother to tell her you would be back home next Friday, the day before your 21st birthday. Teasingly you suggested that she and the others should have extra special presents waiting for you “or else”. The excitement in mom’s voice was evident but also her enthusiasm unnerved you a little, making you think there was something she wasn’t telling you.
“Mom is everything ok? You seem a little strange” you asked worriedly
Your mom’s sweet voice seeped through the phone “No… honey everything’s fine here” She pauses for a few seconds like she trying to determine what to say “It’s just… such short notice, but we’re all so excited to have you back where you belong” She sniffs quietly before continuing “I’ve missed you so much sweetie” her voice almost sounds a little desperate.
Either way, you can’t help stop the grin that spreads across your face, it feels good to know that your mom missed you as much as you missed her “Aww mom I’ve missed you too…..” you pause before quickly adding your sister’s
names “….and Emily and Rebecca” conveniently leaving dad out of the picture.
Mom giggled infectiously and you smile to her laughter “That’s right don’t forget your sister’s {FIRST_NAME }, you wouldn’t last long back here if I failed to mention that you didn’t remember them.
Transferring the phone over to your other ear so that you can reach an itch with your right hand you agree with mom “I don’t doubt it Mom, how are Em and Becca doing anyway?”
Mom pauses again before answering “Um… Becca is her usual self….so yeah”
“Hmm” you grunt “I know what that means” you say shaking your head imagining past experiences of your rebellious older sister.
“…and I’m sure Emily will be feeling a lot better now you’re coming home” Mom mumbles quickly.
You’re about to ask her what she means by that but she cuts you off in mid thought.
“Now , its lovely to hear from you but considering how short notice this is I need this time to organize your welcome home/birthday party”
Smiling again at Mom’s kind nature and in excitement about the possibility of a party, you forget all about her statement regarding Emily “You know that you don’t have to do that Mom; I don’t want you to go to any trouble, it’s not like I need a party, I just want to spend time with you and the girls”
“That’s sweet but I insist and it’s no trouble, what kind of mother would I be if didn’t give you a welcome home party. Look I’ll invite some of your high school buddies…” she pauses to take a breath “…and Aunt Helen and Amy would love to see you as well, I can invite them too if you like”
“Thanks Mom that sounds great, I love you” you say genuinely excited by the prospect, high spirits and the added factor of alcohol that comes with any party may make it easier to seduce a family member.
“Love to too , bye honey” she says, evidence of a smile coming through in her tone of voice.
“Bye Mom” you say hanging up the phone and haphazardly tossing it onto a bean bag before turning around and facing your half packed suitcases in preparation for the flight home in a few days’ time.
Having nothing better to do while driving the last few hundred miles home, your mind begins to wander once more. Three years is an awfully long time, things have bound to of changed back home, hopefully for the better.
Somehow you doubt it; given at the time of your departure tensions between family members were already strained. Your mother and father were more frequently having louder and longer arguments with each other. Rebecca was just about pissing everyone off with her downright disrespectful and selfish attitude; up all hours, partying, never telling your parents where she was or when she would be home and ‘borrowing’ money from everyone without asking.
Everyone was visibly becoming more stressed and because of this even Emily was being affected. Nearing the weeks to your departure you were becoming increasingly hesitant about leaving for fear on the effect on Emily. Your usually sweet, adorable and playful sister was becoming even more introverted to the point which it seemed she was only comfortable in the company of yourself or her school text books.
‘Oh well’ you think to yourself, hopping back into the car for the final strength of the journey home ‘No use worrying anymore, I’ll be able to see everyone again very soon’. |