Interlude 7

Interlude 7

She had just returned home from a mission trip to Japan. The plan was that her family would go on to vacation in Canada and she would have the house to herself for a few, wonderful, quiet days. But when she returned, the church her father preached for had asked him to resign. She was angry. Her whole life had been the church and, then after returning from a trip that was meant for God, her church left her? Didn’t they know how much she needed them? Her heart sunk.

That night after she arrived, her mother told her that, because of what the church had done and not wanting her to be alone, they made plans for her to go with them to Canada. They don’t get it, she thought. All she wanted was to be alone. She had been surrounded by people for the last month and she just wanted some solitude, maybe a friend or two.

But noooo.

Now, she was off again.To Canada, of all places. Who cared about Canada, anyway? She marched off from the dinner table in all of her 17-year-old glory and moped. It was too late to change it now.

Two days later, they arrived. Her brother was still weak from cancer treatment and had trouble getting around, the whole family had to share one hotel room, and she was surrounded by the insurance agents her mother worked for. It was the epitome of awful.

Fuck this, she thought as she walked around the hotel. It was beautiful, but frustrating. She had to go walking around the resort just to get some alone time. She walked into an overpriced clothing store that was in the castle-like hotel and started looking around. An attractive guy who was working in the store saw her and walked over.

“Hey there, can I help you with something?” He smiled.

All of a sudden, the trip to Canada wasn’t looking so bad. She smiled back, started a conversation. He was flirting and she knew it. She enjoyed the distraction.  Before long, she found out his name was Scott and had made plans to meet him and his friends for bowling. She told him about her brother and would bring him along. He didn’t seem to mind.

They met up later. Her brother was in a wheelchair; she was in a cute, little outfit. Scott, and his friends, Rory and Megan, taught them the game. It wasn’t like American bowling. They hung out and chatted and bowled and decided to go out to eat after. Her brother got wine, she tried it, thought it tasted horrible, and then made plans to hang out with them later without her brother around.

She met up with the trio later that night at Rory & Scott’s apartment. She was fascinated by Rory. He was not as attractive as Scott, but he was artistic, a photographer, he was nice. He could hold a conversation. Scott was just pretty. Rory was sexy. They were drinking and, at that point, she’d only really drank once before and she wasn’t even sure if she’d been drunk. Rory poured her a white Russian. She didn’t like it, she drank it anyway. Then, she drank another.

Rory asked her about her life and she answered. He realized she was a virgin and still ultra-religious. He also realized her life wasn’t such a great one.  She adored that he felt bad for her. The other two were around and then they weren’t and her and Rory were alone. She was on her third or fourth drink and not knowing what it felt like to be drunk, she didn’t realize she was. Her face felt hot and she felt like she could melt into the couch.

That’s when he kissed her. She loved it. They kissed a lot. She loved it more. She was a thousand miles away in her own head. Foggy, turned on and numb she began giving him a blow job, he seemed to like it but she caught herself. Still a virgin, fresh from a mission trip to Japan, it didn’t feel right. She was trapped between two worlds and the world was spinning. Was she a good christian girl? Chaste and modest? Or a slut who got drunk and gave canadian boys blow jobs?

What the hell. She thought, then she stopped and mumbled something. She wasn’t even sure if it was understandable. He whispered, “You don’t even like being a virgin do you?”

She began to cry.

He sat up and told her it was alright. That he shouldn’t have let her drink so much. The hotel complex was massive and she wasn’t sure she could find her way back to the room so he grumpily got dressed and walked her back. He got her to the hotel elevator and watched her get on. As the doors closed, she said, “I’m sorry.” He gave her a reassuring grin and was gone.

It was late and her family was asleep in the room when she arrived. She lay down and cried for a long time, she didn’t even know why. But she knew it was their fault all this had happened. They were the ones that brought me here. I fucking hate everything and them and Rory and all of it. She fell asleep slowly with the taste of white russian and guilt in her mouth.