Second Helpings_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [70]
It worked fairly well. When Len and Marcus finally approached us, I grabbed Len by the arm and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
When we got in the car, I remember thinking that we were alone for the first time since we arrived. I was about to tell him how much I liked him when Len cleared his throat.
“Look, Jessica. I like you.”
“I was about to tell you the same thing.”
“Um. Yes.” He barked out a cough, to get himself back on track. “I’m so happy that you like me back and I’m flattered and quite frankly flabbergasted that you wanted to lose your virginity to me tonight and were nice enough to let me know your intentions by forwarding me the Pinevile Low e-mail, but I wished you had felt comfortable enough to discuss it with me directly . . .”
I wasn’t getting it. And it wasn’t the alcohol that slowed my synapses, no. It was the shock value of what he was saying.
WHAT TYPE-A BRAINIAC HAS VOWED TO FINALLY HAVE SEX FOR THE FIRST TIME ON HOMECOMING NIGHT?
I assumed it was Len. And Len had assumed it was me. HAHAHA-HAHAHAHAHA. I defy you to tell me that’s not the funniest Three’s Company–style high jinks and shenanigans you’ve ever heard in your life. But he was too busy babbling for me to clear things up.
“. . . .which is why I simply can’t go through with it. I have quite strong feelings for you, but I feel I should tell you that I have decided not to have sex before I am married, not because of religious beliefs, but because I cannot afford to jeopardize my future with an unplanned pregnancy or a sexually transmitted disease. Not that I think you have a sexually transmitted disease, I’m just speaking in the broadest terms. And I know abstinence contradicts everything that I’m supposed to do as a teenage guy, but even if I did believe in sexual relations outside of marriage, I can’t help but think that having sex with you tonight would be wrong when we haven’t so much as kissed yet . . .”
There only seemed to be one logical, rational response to this, Len’s first spontaneous, emotional, and factually inaccurate speech.
I leaned over and kissed him. And he didn’t stop me.
December 1st
Dear Hope,
Today was the start of the second marking period. For seniors, this means the class we’ve been waiting for since fifth grade: Health and Human Sexuality. A whole marking period devoted to penises and vaginas, brought to us by none other than the always-bubbly Brandi, Professional Counselor and Certified Sexpert Extraordinaire. Why they wait until our senior year to “teach” us about sex is beyond me. I mean, the only people in our class who still rely on secondhand sex education are me and, appropriately, Len.
I should be relieved, right? His no-sex stance makes things a lot less complicated. I know for sure that he’s not just being nice to me so he can dick me over. Besides, even if Len were a typical bootyhound, I doubt I’d be in a hurry to hump him. Hearing Brandi gush about the magnificent mons pubis and the delightful vas deferens is all the negative conditioning I need to delay my devirginization by another decade or two. At least.
It’s weird having a boyfriend. Or maybe it’s just weird for me to be a girlfriend. I’m not very good at it. Like, I have to remind myself not to bolt out of class when the bell rings—I’m supposed to grab Len’s hand, then bolt. Or I have to remember to call him before I go to bed, and to pick up the phone when he calls me. I have to remember that I’m supposed to be thinking about Len.
You might be wondering why I bother. Sometimes I wonder, too. Then I remind myself that Len is smart, focused, and driven to go somewhere and do something in life. He has goals beyond Pineville