Dead Give Away

[Disclaimer: the following is an exaggerated version of a story VERY loosely based on a real life experience. VERY loosely...

When one is in high school, one tends to think “I know everything there is to know. I am so enlightened. I am so entitled. I don’t really know my rights, BUT I know I have to have them! Yeah...I know everything. I’m set.” It is what older and sexier wise folk call the Case of the Green Teen. 

And for those of you who are tilting their heads in confusion, don’t be coy. Remember when you used to speak your opinions before you even knew how to form an opinion? Remember when you felt like you had to rebel against everything to make the best of everything? Remember when you first “fell in love” but it turned out to be the realization that you always want what you can’t have? And, of course, remember the first time you had sex and you thought it was THE BEST SEX EVER?!?!?

Yeah if you responded “yes” to any of those questions, chances are, you, yes you too, were once a Green Teen. ]

"Dead Give Away" by Anonymous 

I’ve been having sex since I was fifteen. I lost it to my first boyfriend, Leslie, and no one knew about it. Not my best friend, not his best friend, not my dog and DEFINITELY neither of our parents. The reason for this was the fact that Leslie Cullivan, of the Reverend Fred Cullivan family, was a die hard Christian. I’m talking born-again-every-single-day type Christian. I grew up Catholic so I completely understood the need for discretion. 

But I was also a fifteen year old girl who just had sex for the first time with her first boyfriend.... it was EXCRUCIATING to keep it quiet about it!! Every time one of my girlfriends even mentioned something about a cute boy, I wanted to describe the shape of Leslie’s dick. Every time my mom asked me how Leslie was I wanted to ask her if she'll put me on birth control. And every time one of my girlfriends said something about how she was playing hard to get, I wanted to retaliate with “Girl just get it, ‘cause when you do you can still play hard and it feels SOOOO good!” 

One boring school night Leslie and I made it less boring by having sex in my car for the first time. I had just turned sixteen and gotten my license so it was a pretty big deal. After a solid two and a half hours of practically flattening the tires of my convertible, I saw that the time was 11:45. The library closed forty five minutes ago and both of our parents knew that. With my bra undone, jeans with no panties, and his shirt unevenly buttoned over my tank top, I rushed Leslie home as quick as I could. I didn’t even bother to wave to his mother’s curious face from the window. Hauling ass home I made the eight minute drive a three minute one, and curled the corner into my driveway. The house was dark... phew. The door was unlocked... even better. I was upstairs in my room, I was home free, I was--

“Where the hell have you been?!” I was fucked.

I turned around to my mother’s scorpion look... you know that look. The kind that stings, burns, and scares you all in one. Only mothers can give that look. Before I could even start the planned speech of bullshit I had prepared--

“And what the FUCK is that?!” she pointed to my left pant leg. 

Let’s retract a little bit here. Envision this: a sixteen year old with flushed cheeks, messy hair, her boyfriends unevenly buttoned shirt on, and no shoes. Not to mention I had a HUGE hickey on my collarbone. That’s bad enough.... 

Oh wait!... it got worse. 

I look down to see the CONDOM WRAPPER in the cuff of my right pant leg. I panicked. I started spewing out a fresh batch of bullshit, while wondering how she saw the wrapper IN the cuff of the pant....and she pointed to my left leg...something wasn’t adding up.

“Oh my god....is that...is that seam-... is it already used?!?” she shrieked again. What the fuck is she talking about? A used what-- oh...

Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

There it was, dangling off the outter denim seem line of my jeans, it looked like a shriveled up tea bag. The condom that Leslie and I had used ....dead give away. 

What could I have said at that point? What on the fucking earth could I possibly have said? I couldn't deny it. I couldn't translate the situation in my native tongue of bullshit. She was fluent in that language. 

There was only one thing to say....

"Well....ya know, at least we're safe."