"Goddamnit, Jenna, children should be seen and not heard. Just shut up!
Shut up
!"
Arguments always ended up like this. Children should be seen and not heard. Basically what Anna was screaming at her was to stop telling her things that didn't fit into her nice neat, practical little box she lived in. Everyone in the world should get married, have a little white house with a white picket fence and have two point five kids and a minivan in the driveway. Thinking outside the box was never really Jenna's mother's strong suit. Maybe that was part of the problem. This thought brought a small, smug smile; one Jenna caught too late.
"Oh, so I suppose you think this is funny? All fun and games, right?" Jenna's father had a gift for stating the obvious. He was obviously delusional. Yes, getting caught in the act with someone was fun and games. Sure it was. Sometimes Jenna really wished she could have shut her mouth.
"Yea, and all this shit I am going through having to listen to you guys bitch when I have company..." She knew she had said the wrong thing this time. Tom rounded the couch where Jenna was sitting and pressed his face in on hers, dangerously close, within a few centimeters from her nose.
"Watch your goddamned mouth."
"Yea, that's a good example, dad. Just use language to correct mine. That's going to get through to me." Jenna thought slyly. She laughed out loud at this thought. Sometimes she really wished she could just keep her goddamned mouth shut.
Her father grabbed her arm and shoved her back toward the basement stairs. "Go down there and tell whoever that is to go home. Right now."
Now it was Jenna's mother's turn to chime in. "Don't you care about what we will have to deal with at work if this ever got out? Our daughter..." Anna's voice broke. Jenna would have felt bad for her if she could only just see what the problem was. Her parents had never been upset at letting friends sleep over before this, so why was now any different? Jenna yanked her arm away from Tom and walked down the steps.
"I'll get right on that, dad. I'll tell..."
"Just cut the bullshit, Jenna. Right now." Mother had spoken. Her eyes were even making those little crosses they made when she was really furious. Anna pissed off was NOT Jenna's idea of a good time. Jenna bit her lip and walked half down the stairs.
"You might want to call your folks and tell them they need to come pick you up. Mom and dad say we can't play anymore." Neither Tom nor Anna found that remark funny. Tom rounded on her again menacingly.
"We never said anything about your clothing choices or your hairstyle choices or anything else so far, Jenna. But this is most definitely overstepping your bounds. I don't care if you ARE eighteen, you are in my house, you will follow my rules. Now let's go."
How the hell is my sex life part of their decisions now? I could do whatever I wanted with the body except something natural.
Her friend gathered everything up, stuffed it in a duffel bag and marched up the stairs, Tom close behind and dragging Jenna behind him, her arm a leash. He acted like if his eyes moved from his target for just a split second, poof!, gone, in a puff of smoke. Then he couldn't have the pleasure of telling someone's parents how bad Jenna was, what a bad child she was. Always getting into trouble and never showing respect for parents who didn't realize that someone with dyed hair and who liked way too much jewelry for her own good was not automatically a bad person. Jenna would never dream of ruining his fun. "Get your coats." His eyes never left the auburn head in front of him. Both grabbed their coats and stuffed their arms through them like they were old laundry. Tom hauled them both out the door but not before Anna could chime in.
"Tell that little bitch she had better never come back here again."
~*~*~*~
The car rolled down the driveway and into the street, braking rather roughly at stops. Jenna turned and watched Miranda's eyes in the passenger side mirror. They were staring out the window, watching the pavement shimmer by. Jenna had never wanted this to happen. Why tonight? Why did this have to happen to her when she had finally... Her thoughts trailed off as the car slammed to a stop at the stoplight. Jenna kept her eyes locked on the mirror on the side of the car, hoping to catch at least a glimpse of Miranda's eyes. She had to know what she was thinking, how she was feeling. Mostly she didn't want to lose a friend over all of this. She never wanted anyone to know. Their secret, damnit. It was supposed to be their secret. No one was supposed to know. God, what a mess. Why the hell couldn't she have fallen for some girl she didn't care about? Why did it have to be her best friend?
Miranda's eyes glanced back to where Jenna was watching. She jumped slightly and moved her eyes to look out the windshield.
Great. This is what she had feared all along. Jenna slid down into the seat and closed her eyes, trying to tune out the dull ache in her chest.
The car pulled up in front of the house. Jenna unfastened her seatbelt and reached for the door handle.
"Oh, no. You just sit right there, missy. I will be back to deal with you later. Sit right here in this car and don't you go anywhere." He turned to Miranda. "I'll walk you to your door. I need to talk to your parents, anyway."
~*~*~*~
"Miranda, don't you understand how this can affect us?"
Miranda sat against the arm of the couch, her chin rested on her hand. "No, mom, I can't see why my sex life is any of your concern. I'm eighteen years old. I am graduating this spring. I'm not a child anymore!"
Her father stepped up to bat. "As long as you live under this roof, everything you do is my business."
"Jerry, please." Miriam soothed. Jerry sank back into his arm chair with a grunt. "Miranda. I know you are curious about sex. But honestly..." she trailed off. There was a long silence. Miranda played rather absently with her hair.
"Your mother and I could tell you what you need to know about sex, Miranda."
"So just how comfortable are you talking about sex with women, dad? Would you be comfortable talking to your teen daughter and telling her what it feels like to have sex with a woman. And, honestly, dad," she paused, looking for a polite way to answer, "what would you know about lesbian sex anyway?"
"Miranda, do not use that word in my house."
"What word, dad?" Miranda leaned forward, hissing, "Lesbian?"
"Miranda, please!" Miriam jumped. Her hand flew to her throat and rested there. Miranda could see her heart start again. "We don't seem to be getting anywhere. Miranda, why don't you head to bed, honey. We can talk about all this again after school tomorrow." Miranda stood and headed to the kitchen. Backpack slung over her shoulder, she climbed halfway up the stairs.
"Jerry, I'm sure this is just a phase she's going through. She'll get it out of her system, I'm sure."
"Yea, mom." Miranda thought. "Keep telling yourself that. You don't know what it feels like to be with her. It's my body. My life. My preference." The thought stuck oddly in her head. It really was a preference.
"No more friends over. Ever. You can't tell which ones she is... well... and which she's not."
