Page 6 of The Wickedness of Man

Then he’d gotten strangely serious, his hand running up my knee, fingers dancing along the inside of my thigh. He’d asked me if I liked him; said that Katie had mentioned that I’d thought he was cute. I really hadn’t known how to answer—she’d asked me several times before if I’d ever considered dating her brother; in fact, insinuated that we’d be a good match, since we already hung out together so much anyway. I’d told her I never saw him as anything more than a friend, but he was cute. Although I’d flirted with boys before, I’d been horrible at it, so I wasn’t great at picking up signals. I found myself evaluating every interaction we’d ever had as his fingers drove goose bumps over my skin.

I’d had a few secret high school and university dates, but they’d ended the moment anyone—myself included—ever tried to take things to the “next level.” My gut clenched, and Danny must have seen the nervousness in my face. He stopped touching me, but asked if it was okay if he kissed me.

I said yes, but I wasn’t sure myself. The kiss had been sloppy—we were both too drunk to do any better—but it had felt nice. I remembered the way it made my stomach twist with delight when he pressed me back onto the sofa, his body covering mine. It was only when he reached down and tried to pull off my bikini bottoms that I’d frozen. Panic cut through me, and I’d breathlessly demanded that he stop. He apologized, backed up, and helped me sit upright, then handed me a blanket. I thoughthe’d been sweet… but not long after, he’d started dating a girl from his work, and they went out for a couple years on and off.

…Until just over a year ago, when he’d said he’d been a fool not to ask me out back then. He promised he would let me set the pace; would make sure I was comfortable. I’d thought I was, but then…

I walked down the hall to the left of the front door; there was a spare bedroom on the right I normally stayed in while I was over here, and the guest bathroom was across from that. Katie’s room was straight at the end of the hall, and I went into her shower to use her shampoo and facial cleanser, since she never remembered to put any in the guest restroom.

Once I was clean and out of the water, having had a good cry and washing my face about three times, I got changed into a spare pair of PJs to find Katie’s decaf Irish coffees sitting on the living room table. Katie had wiped her makeup off, and upon seeing the offending—and recurring, she reminded me almost daily for weeks—zit on my chin, insisted I use one of her pimple patches. She dropped onto the oversized, L-shaped couch as we each grabbed the mugs from the table.

“Thanks for the cake and everything tonight,” I said, stabilizing the towel I’d wrapped my hair in to dry. I took a sip of the coffee and thought my eyes might water.

There was such a thing as too much alcohol, but Katie seemed to never understand that, despite not being a big drinker herself outside of social events.

“Ugh, I’m so mad at Danny, I could strangle him,” Katie said, taking a large gulp of her coffee, errantly searching through films available through her subscription services. “Sorry, I know you probably don’t want to discuss it, but…”

“It’s okay,” I said. “…I guess it wasn’t really that unexpected.”

“Mags,” Katie said, putting her coffee down on the table. “I know it’s probably the worst timing ever, because my brother isthe biggest dick in the entire world, but… do you want to talk about things? I mean… that night when you and Danny decided to take a break?”

I groaned, now also putting my own cup down and pushing my face into my hands. “Danny told you everything I left out, right?”

“He didn’t want to—in fact, I had to threaten violence to get him to spill the beans, but Mags… c’mon. My brother and my best friend are dating for a year, and then magically go ‘on a break?’ You were so vague, I had to pull some of the details out of him, but…”

Tears stung my eyes. Twenty-six-years old and still a virgin who hadn’t even taken ablowjobto completion. Most of my friends had lost their virginity ages ago; Katie had lost hers when we were seventeen and literally wouldnotshut up about it for weeks. Our other friends had gone just as apeshit about their experiences, their desires… but I’d always felt like there was some kind of club I’d never been able to join. The fear my parents put into me had been so encompassing, I’d never eventriedto masturbate, because I was terrified they might be watching me from a hidden camera in the room. I’d heard from other girls that rough activities like sports could even cause your hymen to break, so I’d opted for quiet, still activities instead. Reading. Drawing. Playing piano. Learning graphic design on the computer.

Sitting quietly and only speaking when spoken to.

I had been a passive observer in my own life; always. And if it wasn’t my parents telling me everything I ought to do, then it was Katie—well-intentioned, but bossy—making decisions that had guided everything else, from my clothing to my drink choices… Even to my boyfriends. Katie’s bossiness wasn’t nearly as scary as my parents, though, and I knew she only did itbecause she was protective of me, so I’d taken her advice. Always.

Now… here I was, having had my last boyfriend—her brother—break up with me via a card on my birthday. This wasaftershe’d invited him even when I secretly hadn’t wanted him there to begin with. I’d hedged the idea to her that Danny might not want to come, given our break, while Katie had been sending texts to confirm guests. She hadn’t even been listening, so I’d tried another way, then let the matter drop.

It was a pretty common occurrence for me, and one constant that felt natural: I spoke and no one heard a word.

From the outside, people must have thought I was the perfect daughter. I attended church every Sunday with my parents; always spoke to them respectfully; had a job that paid my bills without their assistance. But everything I did—or didn’t do—was because my parents literally beat the fear of God into me almost every waking moment of my life. The only time I’d ever gotten a chance to just get away from it all was when I was allowed to go away to school, and eventhen, they required it to be an all-girls’ university.

I had been promptly unenrolled, however, when they found out there were nude figure-drawing classes on campus. I hadn’t even been registered for those—just the still-life sketches—but the moment they found out nudity in class might be a possibility, they’d yanked me out so fast I nearly got whiplash.

Perhaps they thought I might find a banana too erotic.

If they ever knew I’d evenlookedat a penis, much less put one in my hands or mouth, they’d have me locked up for life.

At twelve, I’d been marched out in a white dress with a line of other preteen girls in front of the entire congregation of the church we attended before being made to swear an oath to God that I would remain “pure.” I had no idea what the priest meant—I was worried that if I got dirt on myself, I’d be breaking myvow—and when I asked my parents about it after the service, they’d responded by telling me that I’d lied when I made my oath and beat me for an hour when we got home.

The next day, I was marched into the priest’s office, where they told him about my sinful, wicked nature, and their concerns that I would be a whore. They asked him to tell me what purity meant, and to make me take the oath again. The priest, looking every bit as confused as I felt, had then just quickly mumbled that it meant I wouldn’t have sex outside of marriage, and then sent us on our way. That night, my mother beat me again and told me if Ieverhad sex, she would pray for God to send his angels to smite me, and then she’d have me declared legally insane and locked away.

I recognized, as I got older, that other people could have sex, but I… couldn’t.

Considering how much torment I’d gone through after the whole nude-drawing class incident, it had taken me nearly a year to convince them to let me finish my degree online. At home. Where they could watch me and monitor my work.

I felt heat welling up in my chest as Katie pulled me into a tight hug and rubbed my back.

“I’m such a loser,” I muttered. “I can’t expect anyone to ever want to stay with me when I can barely give them ahandjobwithout my stomach churning.”

“You’re not a loser, Mags,” Katie said, her tone stern. “Your parents are seriously fucked up. They made you believe things that aren’t true, you know? I mean… you’re twenty-six now. Do you really have to keep going to church with them every Sunday?”

I sobbed harder, clinging to Katie like a floatation device after I’d been shipwrecked at sea.

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