This story is a bit wordy and fairly long, so if you are looking for immediate gratification, you might want to look elsewhere. It contains heterosexual and lesbian sexual activity.
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The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead (or just confused) is entirely coincidental. Please do not copy/redistribute the story, in part or in total, without the author's permission.
This story takes place in the entirely fictional city of Springfield, California, so don't go looking for it on a map. And in my little fictional world, there are no unwanted pregnancies or STD's, except as plot driving devices. The author encourages the practice of safe-sex.
This is part of an ongoing series. Please check out earlier part(s) for background and character history.
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"Thanks for seeing me on such short notice," Pat said, having a seat in Dr. Martin's office once again.
"Not a problem. I must say I'm happy that you're so much more willing to talk, particularly since you're not really required to be here anymore." The attractive redheaded woman looked over the top of her glasses at her young "patient." "What's on your mind?"
Pat had worked it all out in her head, but suddenly her words failed her. She just sat there with her mouth open.
Carolyn Martin was amused. This was a bright, athletic and beautiful girl, but she had the social skills of a hermit.
"When . . . when did everything get complicated?" Pat practically growled, standing suddenly and beginning to pace. She felt a pressure inside her that had grown increasingly uncomfortable as of late. "I don't know what to do, and I'm not even sure what the problem is. I mean, they're just teenagers . . . I guess friends . . . so . . ." She stopped and took a breath. She had to keep control of herself.
Carolyn watched the young woman enter into an almost trance-like state. "Are you really THAT afraid of letting loose?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
"The whole point of coming in here to talk to me is so that you don't need to keep stuff bottled up, but you're still trying to do that. Just let it out."
"I can't," Pat whispered, sitting down. "Mr. Baker doesn't like mistakes."
"Your father . . ." Carolyn was in the rare situation of getting frustrated herself. "Is pleasing your father THAT important to you? So important that you'd drive yourself insane to do it?"
Pat uttered something she'd never thought she'd say out loud. At first, she wasn't even aware that she was doing it. "If I make him 'proud,' he forgets how disappointed he is in my brother. And making him 'proud' is the only thing I know how to do."
For a moment, there was silence. It was the most genuine, personal thing that Pat Baker had ever admitted to anyone.
Carolyn walked over, knelt and took Pat's hands in her own. "I don't understand what it must be like for you. I know of both your parents. People like that don't move to a town like this and not be noticed. Big time players, right? But you don't have to be like them. You're eighteen years old. You're entire life is ahead of you."
"I've already told you," Pat whispered, depression setting in. "It's not my life."
"Why not?"
"Because . . . because I don't know how to make it my life."
Carolyn kissed the girl's hands. It wasn't a come-on or erotic in any fashion. It was a sympathetic move.
"The first thing you have to do is open yourself up. Let these new kids in your life be your friends. Let them in. And for crying out loud, give yourself a break! Let yourself make mistakes."
"I can't. If I make mistakes . . ."
"I know, you're father will be disappointed. But if you don't, you're going to make yourself sick, and you'll wind up making mistakes anyway."
Pat sighed. She wondered if Ms. Martin had any idea how accurate she was, or of how sick Pat already felt most of the time.
Carolyn smiled. "Talk to your friends. They'll probably admit to a lot of mistakes. But they're probably happier than you seem to be. Actually," she added, "why don't you talk to Lola?"
"Your . . . girlfriend?" Pat asked. "Why?"
"Because Lola can probably explain better than anyone that making a mistake doesn't have to be the end of your life. It could just make it the beginning."
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At lunch the next day. . .
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The group of four teenagers was sitting at their table, and Keith was telling the story of when he and Gail, then both fourteen, had gotten caught trying to toilet-paper the house of a local politician who had been trying to get the city council to past a stricter curfew ordinance for the district they lived in. The motion-detector activated lights, causing the two conspirators to panic. When they turned to run, Gail's foot had slipped and she had fallen into the soft earth of a flower bed. When the owner of the house had looked out his window, all he saw was a mud-covered creature dripping lilies and leaving a trail of toilet paper screaming down his lawn. It had been pretty easy to find which house she had gone to at that point, and Gail had been grounded for a month. Throughout the story, Gail had tried to keep her face covered to hide her blush, but she was also laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. Todd was grinning and taking mental notes of things he could use against his girlfriend at a later date.
