"You look tired." I said softly to Jen. The orange dawn light coming through the window softened her features, but I could still see the puffy lines under her eyes. Jen gazed up at my eyes and ran her fingers down the stubble on my chin. She dropped her hand awkwardly and stepped back a little.
"What if I'm pregnant?" She said. "You fucked the shit out of me. We did a bad thing, Mike--you do understand that?" I tried to clear my throat and coughed a little. Jen shifted her weight to one heel and put her hand on her hip. She stared at me accusingly.
"This is all your fault, you know." She added. "You pushed me into it. Fucker." She choked suddenly and covered her mouth with her hand. Her body shook as she lowered her head. "Aww, Jen ..." I had practically raped her. She was fucked. I was fucked. We were so fucked. I leaned back, my hands clasped on my head. I didn't know what to do. She looked so helpless and small.
Awkwardly, I extended my arm to pat her shoulder. Instantly, she melted into my arms and pressed her shaking face against my chest. At least I was wearing a t-shirt with my shorts--she appeared to be wearing the same blue nightgown from last night. "I don't know what to say..." I murmured to her as I stroked her hair. She pulled away from me, still covering her face. She couldn't even make eye contact. Finally she looked me in the eye. She had this huge grin on her face.
"I ... I know what you can say ... " She covered her hand with her mouth, again. Her body still shaking. Finally, she burst out: "Say you'll---BWAHAAAAhaaa! Say you'll ... hahahhahhahha ... say you'll do it AGAIN--you FUCKING PERVERT!"
"I ..." I stumbled. I think my mouth was open. I think it took me a second or two for it to register that she was actually laughing. "I don't know ..."
I looked up at Jen. There was still this big grin on her face. She reached out and slapped me playfully. Her fingers stopped on my cheek. "I was just kidding, silly." She said, looking me in the eyes. "I was just kidding. Really." She added, softly. Her hand was still on my cheek. I met her gaze, and shook my head, pursing my lips. "That's right." I said softly. "We can't ... we shouldn't even ..." I took her hand in my hands and placed it back at her side. "Talk about it?" Jen quietly asked.
Then she stopped talking and looked past me into the hallway. I looked over my shoulder. I could see Dad stumbling down the hallway, squinting against the dawn and rubbing his eyes. He looked up and noticed me watching him. "You." Dad said accusingly to me. "I want to talk to you. After breakfast." He looked at Jen and sniffed. "And what are you giggling at?" He said sternly. "There's nothing funny about this."
Jen bit her lip and lowered her head. Her arms hung awkwardly at her sides. We just stood there as Dad continued down the hallway. He glanced back at us over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow knowingly before he disappeared into the bathroom.
"He seemed to take that rather well." I whispered to Jen. She nodded dumbly. "Maybe they argued themselves out last night?" She added finally, glancing up at me. Then she lowered her voice "--or maybe this is just the eye of the storm." I shivered. My hands felt cold. "I'm going to get dressed for breakfast." I said to Jen. "Okay." She padded down the hallway to her own room. She walked very, very slowly.
Before I walked into the kitchen, I took a slow breath and tried to keep my hands from shaking. Then I went in. Jen was already sitting at the table, stirring her oatmeal slowly with a fork. She met my eyes briefly, and dropped her head back down to stare at her food. Dad looked up at me and paused with a spoonful of cereal still in his mouth. I could feel my face warm and flush.
"Well, if it isn't the man of the hour. Eat." Dad grumbled.
I didn't eat much. I kept my eyes on my cereal, but it still seemed that every time I looked up Dad or Mom was looking at me. Each bite seemed to be slower than the last, but I supposed that I should finish the bowl. I scraped up the last of my oatmeal from the edge of the bowl and waited expectantly. Dad looked up at me for a moment, as if he had forgotten something.
"Oh yes." He began.
"You know, son, we never actually discussed this when you started college-I just assumed that this was an unspoken understanding. It's just the way things are done." Dad met my eyes.
"Okay." I could feel my face getting very hot, but my hands were still trembling. I set them in my lap.
Dad glanced at my mother. "Your mom and I discussed this last night at dinner and it took us a while to figure it exactly what to do-but what it comes down to is this: we think that it's time for you to live on your own. And last night, I come home to this-" He gestured out the back door.
"Uh ... " I looked at the back door, then back at Dad.
"The Lexus!" Dad barked. "Are you becoming familiar with the tearing metal sound that happens when you rip out half of the fender? Let me guess, this time it was a grocery cart ... "
"I, uh ... " I cleared my throat. "Dad."
I glanced at Jen, who was staring resolutely at her cereal. She was the last one to drive the car, back from swimming practice last night. "I'm ... sorry?" I looked at Dad. "It was late ... " I shrugged helplessly. I watched Jen out of the corner of my eye. She glanced back and forth between and Dad and me.
"Dad ... Dad." Jen interrupted. "Dad. It was me ... who smashed the fender."
Dad looked at Jen and back at me. He scratched his head and looked at Mom. She shrugged. "Uhm. Sorry I yelled at you, Mike. But honestly, this only underscores what we were already discussing, Mike ... We think it's time for you to move out. I think it will help you to find some new friends, Mike. You and Jen have been getting a little too close, lately. It seems a little ... regressive ..." Dad started.
I glanced over at Jen. Apparently, Dad didn't actually know exactly how close Jen and I had been. I let out an involuntary sigh.
"Yeah, yeah, Dad--I get what you are saying, Dad." I said.
"I mean ... I'm not trying to be an asshole, Mike. I just think you've got a little growing up to do." Dad continued. It seemed that things were back to normal--as normal as things can be after something like last night.
Later, Jen came up to my room as I was putting the last of my clothes into a suitcase. "
"So you're off to Mrs. Thompson's place. It's not far." Jen looked around the empty room.
I laughed. "It's just across the street. I'll be over for dinner. Want to see my new place? Dad had it all set up. I think him and Mom really want me out of here. Do you think they--do you think they know?"
Jen shrugged. "I don't know, Mike. It's not like it would change anything, right?" Jen slid an arm around my waist and looked up at me.
I pulled from her away, abruptly.
"What?" Jen pouted, "I'm not your sister, anymore? Can't I come over and see your new place?"
"Sure ... I guess. Come on over." I was actually looking forward to a little privacy, but she would only be over for a minute. I loaded up as much as I could carry, but there was still one little box left. "Could you grab that last box--if you don't mind?" I asked Jen. She picked up the box and followed me across the street.
The air was brisk, and the screen door on Mrs. Thompson's back entry was blowing back and forth on its hinges, banging against the house. I realized that my key was still in my pocket, and stopped at the door.
