Last night I was chatting with Norman, and our conversation turned, as everyone's casual late-night conversations are wont to do, to high school and sex. Norman asked me if there was a girl at my school who was considered "the slut." I told him I couldn't remember anybody being saddled with that reputation; I certainly didn't think it was me.Maybe I was more distant from my teenage friends than I thought, but I don't recall ever sitting around with my gal pals or even my sisters and comparing sexual escapades. I gave up the big v when I was 16 so I had something to talk about, but no one asked and I didn't volunteer. But during my senior year, a nice Mormon boy I'd started seeing gave me a copy of How to Regain Your Virginity for my birthday. He meant it as a joke, I'm sure, but there was a whiff of wistfulness about the presentation of this particular gift. I had never talked to him about past boyfriends, though I guess both of us must have assumed I had more experience than he. It's as if he had a gaydar-like knowledge about my fallen state: he looked at me and he just knew.
Maybe I appeared sluttier than I realized.
2 comments:
16, huh? I had no clue. I never knew like Mr. Mormon did. I guess you hid it as well as you thought you did! :-)
And to think, I was sitting there turning your sheet music when I should have been chatting you up on what you were up to once the music stopped.
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