Grace Wilkinson: Angie makes friends

"All the students whose names I called will leave now and report to the auditorium for the sex education film for freshmen," Mrs. Hildebrande announced.

A banging of seats and books ensued and twenty-five of the thirty students in the room rose or prepared to rise.

On his way out, Brad Harker stopped to leer at Doug Fleming and Angie Marlowe. "You little kiddies be good while we're gone."

"We don't have to take courses in sex to find out what it's all about," Angie retorted tartly.

Doug looked up from his biology book and whispered composedly. "Don't fuck all the girls while the lights are out."

Brad laughed confidently. "If I fucked one, that would be more than you ever have."

Doug's face flushed with anger.

"You might be surprised," Angie said, taking Doug's side.

"Are you kidding? This retard is a dull grind," Brad said positively. "The local genius! Studying and research projects. That's all he's ever done. He's never seen a single sex education film in his life and never taken out a girl."

"You don't know all the things I study or the projects I work on," Doug said coolly.

"Who're you trying to put on!" Brad said unimpressed.

"Well, you don't know," Angie said staunchly. "Doug learns a lot about sex from his father and I learn about it from my father. We don't need to go to those sex classes."

A loud rapping interrupted the conversation.

"Everyone out, please," Mrs. Hildebrande said crisply.

"Get your ass in gear," Doug said in a superior tone to Brad.

Brad looked first at Angie then at Doug, doubt flickering in his eyes. "If you two know so much about sex, why have you held out on the rest of us?"

Doug and Angie stared at him with poker faces.

Brad looked at them sardonically. "I'll be asking you soon. You better know something worth knowing." He turned and walked away.

The two watched Brad disappear out the door, then Doug turned to Angie. "I didn't know you knew so much about sex."

She flared back defensively, "I didn't know you knew so much either."

As soon as all the students were gone, Mrs. Hildebrande tapped for attention again. "Because there are only a few of you left in the study hall, you may study, read, or talk, if you keep your voices low." She smiled at them graciously and then turned her attention to grading papers.

Doug felt that same old sinking feeling in his stomach that he'd felt so often lately. The harder he tried to live a peaceful, logical existence, the quicker he found himself entangled in an impossible situation. Why had he taken offense to Brad's childish words? He knew what a silly ass Brad was. He thought he had inured himself to the stigma of being left out of the sex education classes long ago, but here he was — upset again. He guessed he wasn't missing much anyway. Probably the same old anatomical diagrams his father had showed him on the sly. And the School Board members didn't allow the teachers to talk about anything really interesting or exciting anyway. So why was he annoyed? Mainly because he wanted to know, he admitted to himself. Really know what sex was all about. For the past year he had been merely curious, but lately he had gotten obsessed with the idea of knowing about it. Probably had something to do with all those wet dreams he'd had lately. He knew he shouldn't care what the other kids thought of him. But he did. He couldn't stand the thought of Brad's face smiling triumphantly when he found out Doug didn't know anything about sex. Telling all the other kids.

Angie's mind was working overtime. It wasn't her fault she didn't know about sex, it was her mother's fault. Any time the subject came up her mother reacted violently against it. Angie could never find out why. Her mother wouldn't tell her anything about sex. It was always, 'Nice girls don't sit with their legs apart. Nice girls don't say those words. Nice girls don't ask those questions until they're old enough.' Hell, if sex was such a bad thing, why were adults always wanting to do it? Why did they think it was such a big thing? Could it really hurt children to know about it? Her father didn't think so. He'd wanted to tell her about sex several times but her mother always butted in. Then there'd be a big scene. Her mother would scream about getting a divorce, making a big scandal. Her father would end up shaking her out of her hysteria and her mother would shout, 'Don't touch me with your filthy obscene hands! Not after you've touched all your nurses.' Angie wondered what she meant by those words. Did her father have sex with his nurses? He probably didn't with her mother — she wouldn't even let him touch her.

A poke in her back roused Angie from her thoughts. She turned to face Doug.

"Tell me all you know about sex," Doug commanded.

"Look," she retorted, "I was only trying to help you out. Brad was so obnoxious."

"I didn't need your help before, I need it now."

"Don't you know anything about sex?" Angie asked pityingly.

Doug blushed. "Of course I do. But Brad doesn't want to know ordinary facts."

"What makes you think I'd know anything different?"

"Your father is a medical doctor, isn't he?"

"He doesn't consult me about his work," Angie said, deliberately aggravating.

"Haven't you kept your eyes and ears open and picked up a thing or two?"

"Mmmm," Angie said mysteriously, fluttering her eyelashes at him provocatively.

I wonder if she's been laid yet, Doug asked himself. She has a wide mouth. If the grandmother tales are right, she should have a large vagina.

Angie nervously drummed her fingers on the desk. "My father does have a lot of medical books in his office." But I haven't read any of them, she finished in her mind.

"You've read them?"

"Well-l. Just glanced at a few," she lied. I am going to read them. Soon, she thought. No matter what Mom says. I've waited long enough.

"What did they say?" Maybe he could get her into a petting session, if she wouldn't go all the way.

"There were a lot of diagrams, like in the biology book." That was safe to say.

"Anything new?" Doug asked hopefully. "About how it's done?" Would she go to bed with me? I'm not very good-looking. Would any girl?

"Mmmm." Angie looked down at her fingernails. She wasn't going to tell him she didn't know anything.

"I can tell. You didn't understand them." Girls were so dumb. On the other hand, that might be an asset. Would she or wouldn't she?

"Well, at least I know where it's at," Angie said daringly. She laughed. I wonder if he's tried it yet? Maybe Brad's right — he's not interested. If he'd come over, we might try it!

"Maybe if you could borrow one of your father's books, we could study it together."

"Yes? Where would we study it?"

"In the library?"

Angie shook her head. "Too public."

"At my house?"

"I can't go out with boys. My mother won't let me until I'm sixteen." Her tone was martyred.

Why in the hell is she encouraging me to ask then? Doug was outraged. "You could tell her you were visiting a girlfriend," he said mildly.

A knot of sorrow caught in Angie's throat. How she wished she could! She'd wanted to have a close friend for so long. But the girls never seemed to notice her. She'd even thought of going up to one — Mary Jane Watson especially, she was so popular — and starting a conversation. But she'd never had the nerve. At the last moment, she felt cowed. Out loud she said, "My mother knows I don't have any girlfriends."

"Oh." Doug felt defeated.

Angie saw the disappointment on his face. Maybe he is ready, she thought. What we couldn't do together. She leaned closer to him. "But you could come to my house."

Doug looked at her and blinked his eyes. She was such an illogical girl. Jumping from negative to positive.