Page 13 of Words I Couldn't Say
Mom stepped in and placed a hand on my dad’s arm. “What your father is trying to say…” She paused, seemingly contemplating how exactly to explain herself. “We trust you, sweetheart. You know you can come to us with anything, right?”
My parents always had an open-door policy. I liked to think they were lucky with me, because I’d unknowingly been wanting Tucker this entire time, so they’d never had to worry about me going to parties, breaking curfew, or sneaking out to meet up with boys.
“Without a doubt,” I said.
Mom smiled hesitantly. “This thing with you and Tucker is fresh, very new, and while we’re thrilled you two have finally realized how you feel about each other, we also know how intense first love can be.”
My parents exchanged a look that told me they both reminiscing on their own romantic history. Those letters came back to mind. Ew. That was it. The conversation, which hadn’t quite even started, was over. I tried to make my escape, but Mom called out to me.
“Ava, wait.”
I stopped midstride and swung around to face them. I sighed when I saw that Dad had tucked Mom close and had his arm wrapped firmly around her waist. As embarrassing as my parents could be, and as much as I wished they’d keep their hands to themselves in common living quarters, I couldn’t deny the fact that I was silently proud to have parents who were still so in love after so many years together. It gave me hope that, one day—far off in the future—that would be Tucker and me. Crazy for each other a way that would only strengthen, never fade. To be the couple that, after twenty years and four children, had an attraction that sizzled.
For years, I’d been rolling my eyes at their story, but now that my own was starting, I realized I’d only been fooling myself. What my parents had? I wanted it. I wanted it badly.
Not that I was going to admit it.
“Yes, Mother?” I asked. I was anxious to prepare for my date. And eager to get this weird grandpa-slash-uncle conversation out of the way.
“We’re both proud of the woman you’ve become. All we ask is that you’re safe. Like your father said, we’re far too young to become grandparents. If things with Tucker progress, it’s okay. It’s natural and we both understand. We have no problem getting you on birth control.”
All the blood drained from my face. They’d walked in on one make-out session—our first—and, now I was getting offered contraceptives. Jesus.
“Oh my god, you guys! I’m not getting pregnant! I’m not even having sex!”
“Good. Sex is good, great, phenomenal when it’s with the right person—as long as you’re safe and take the proper precautions to prevent pregnancy,” Dad chimed in.
Mom was nodding in agreement. I couldn’t believe these two.
I pointed at my dad. “Shouldn’t you be growling and warning Tucker not to defile your little girl?” I asked, completely dumbfounded that my dad was so…not angry over this.
To my shock, a smile crossed his lips. “There’s no one else I’d trust with my baby girl than that boy next door. Plus, we’ve already had our talk. He knows the deal,” he cryptically informed me.
My resulting facepalm was the thing Captain Picard memes had been made for. “We just started this…this whatever last night. When the heck did you have time to talk to him?”
Mom’s face softened. “Honey, you may have been late to the party, but when Tucker was eight years old, he told your father he was going to grow up and marry you. They’ve had years to talk.”
“He did?” I asked, my heart melting.
Mom laughed and rested her head on my dad’s shoulder. “This one said he was going to lock you up until you’re thirty.”
“I still might,” Dad interjected.
That was enough for me. I casually backed out of the room, making my escape. “Thanks, guys. Love you! If anything changes, you’ll be the first to know!”
It was a total lie—I could get birth control on my own. And, as much as I loved my parents and was well aware of their healthy sex life (ew), again, they did not need to know about mine—as nonexistent as it currently was.
“Make good choices!” Dad called after me.
I giggled, but once I was in my room, I thought about what they’d said. Tucker and I were so far from sex that it wasn’t funny.
But, for the first time in my life, I wondered what it’d be like to be that close with someone. To give myself to him completely. It should’ve been daunting. Terrifying. But instead, my body warmed in places it never had before at the thought of being intimate with him, and for the first time in my life, I imagined sex with my best friend. And those images? They were beautiful.
Maybe we weren’t so far off after all.
Hours later, I was pacing my living room, waiting for Tucker to arrive. It was ridiculous how rattled my nerves were, especially since I used to take baths with my date, but I couldn’t help it. Things with Tucker had changed overnight, and part of me was terrified he’d somehow decide I wasn’t truly what he’d wanted all this time.
When the doorbell rang, however, my heart leaped with joy. All of my fears and doubts melted away the second I opened the door and caught sight of him. Tucker was standing on my front porch, handsome as ever. His dark hair was mussed up—from having raked his hands through it, I was sure. His light-blue button-down shirt brought out the color of his eyes and his half-smile showcased one gorgeous dimple that I wanted to lick. He held a bouquet of red roses at his chest. I melted. I didn’t care what anyone said. If red roses are a cliché, then I’d be the biggest cliché on the block.
