Angels Everywhere - Debbie Macomber [176]
“Not if my brother hears about it,” Emilio warned, his eyes narrowing. “Miss Cassidy is his woman.”
“I’m no one’s woman,” Brynn corrected evenly.
“No one owns another person,” Pearl Washington insisted righteously. To the best of Brynn’s knowledge, this was the first time the young black girl had freely contributed to any class discussion. “A woman’s body is her own, just the way a boy’s body is his own.”
“You’re right, sister.”
“I didn’t plan this talk,” Brynn admitted, wondering if she was treading over a minefield. “But this is a subject that’s been on my mind lately, and I’d like us to have an open discussion. I’ll share my thoughts with you, and you can share your feelings with me.”
“Ask me anything you want,” Emilio said proudly.
“In other words, you’ve got all the answers?”
“Sure.” Emilio glanced over his shoulder to be sure he had his friends’ support. “Most of us in class do. Come on, Miss Cassidy, we been around, you know?”
“Yeah, I do know. But making love isn’t like sampling chocolates. It’s much more involved than that. There are responsibilities and consequences.”
“Yeah. I’m raising one of those consequences right now,” Yolanda volunteered, “and it ain’t easy.”
“Hey, sister, don’t look at me. I wasn’t the one who got you knocked up.” Denzil raised both hands in a gesture of innocence.
“Shut up, Denzil.”
“I want to talk about accountability,” Brynn said, ignoring the two. “About being mature enough to accept the responsibility for our actions.”
“Are you going to lecture us, Teach?”
“No. I’m going to share with you at least fifteen different ways of making love without doing it.”
Several of the boys glanced back and forth at each other as if she’d suddenly turned into someone they didn’t know.
“I have the feeling I’m not going to like any of those ways,” Malcolm muttered.
Pearl stood at her desk and pointed a finger at her chest. “Why is it a guy thinks that because he spends a little money on me, it entitles him to a piece of my soul?”
“Some girls expect it,” Malcolm argued just as heatedly. “Half the time the girls are all over me asking for it.”
“Yeah,” Emilio agreed. “There are plenty of times I’d prefer not to . . . you know, and if I don’t ask, then the girl’s feelings are all hurt. It ain’t just us men, you know.”
“Men?” Yolanda challenged. “I notice you call us girls, but you’re men. Why doesn’t the man who fathered Jason kindly step forward?” With her fists braced against her sides, Yolanda looked around slowly, then released a sigh of disgust. “That’s what I thought.”
“Enough,” Brynn said, putting an end to the argument before it escalated into a shouting match. She could talk until she was ready to faint, and she doubted it would do any good, but she had to try. One thing was clear: her students were as opinionated over the topic as she was herself.
While she had their attention, she spoke from the heart, listing the reasons she felt it was important to wait to experiment with lovemaking until after marriage. The intensity of her feelings must have reached her class because there was a respectful silence when she finished.
“Miss Cassidy,” Emilio said when she’d concluded, “I don’t mean to be discourteous or anything, but you’re living in a dream world if you believe a man’s going to wait to make love to his woman.”
“Don’t be so sure, Emilio. Teenagers across the world are making pledges to keep themselves pure.”
“There ain’t nothing pure in this neighborhood,” someone else told her. “Not even the water.”
“But it has to start somewhere,” Brynn said, and walked over to the chipped blackboard. In large bold-faced letters, she wrote i will abstain from premarital sex. “I say let it start with me.” She signed her name below.
Holding up the piece of chalk, she asked, “Anyone else?”
A tense moment passed before Yolanda slid from her seat. With her head held high, the teenager walked up and took the chalk out of Brynn’s hand. She wrote her name in huge letters below Brynn’s.
Turning