Private
(Wednesday Night, August 7th)
Chad looks over at the guard with the brown buzzcut, "Do you really need to be in my room? Can't you just stand outside or something?"
"I'm sorry, Prince Chad," he addresses, "but I have orders to keep a close watch on you. That includes making sure you don't jump out those windows."
Chad looks at the large windows, "I didn't think of that before." before he faces the guard's sudden realization. "Don't worry. I won't do it."
"Regardless," he evenly expresses, "I need to remain here."
Chad conjures, "What if I want to masturbate?"
He takes a minute, "Then I think your en-suite would be private enough."
Chad glances from the bathroom to his nightstand, "Great idea." before he smiles, goes over to the wardrobe, and pulls out his blue pajamas. He turns around, sees the guard observing him, and he frowns, "I'm just going to take a shower." The guard continues to stare at him, and Chad widens his eyes before going to the nightstand. He opens the drawer and conceals the orange bottle with the clothes, before he folds it into them. He shuts it and glances at the guard, as he turns towards the bathroom.
After he enters, he locks the door, turns the shower on, and opens the bottle. He takes two out and bring them to his mouth, before he fills the glass with water to down them. He hides the pills in the drawer with his backup necessities. Chad shuffles other things on top of it, closes the drawer, and then strips before moving into the shower.
"Chad," his father says, when he enters the dining hall.
Chad glances between his parents, before he notices the food spread across the table, "What's up with the brunch?"
"Pumpkin," his mother sweetly says. "Come here, please."
Chad looks back at the double doors; however, the guard has already trapped him in, and Chad sighs before slowly making his way across the vast room. He watches himself walk across the tile, until the table comes into view, and he looks between his parents again. "Take a seat," his father relays.
Chad sits across from them, and he examines the platters again, "This looks like the last supper." He faces them, "What bad conversation do you think this is covering?"
His father clasps his hands on the table, "Bernard told me—"
"Bernard?" Chad questions.
"The guard watching you on nightshift," he explains. "He said you were asking him about privacy for masturbation."
Chad crosses his arms, "He had no right to tell you that."
"He asked me to reconsider grounding you."
Chad shakes his head, "Why would he do that?"
"He's worried," his father frowns. "As am I." Chad waits, and he questions, "When you do that stuff, what are you thinking about?"
"Does it matter?"
"It does if you're thinking about guys." Chad eyes down, and his father reasons, "This isolation tactic isn't going to work, if the thing keeping you going is knowing that you'll be able to get away with that stuff at school."
"I'm a teenager," Chad excuses. "I can't just stop thinking about it."
"You should be focusing on your spiritual health," he opinionates. "Hormones aren't an excuse for indulging in sin."
"So, it's a sin to think about sin, now?" Chad disbelieves.
"If you're actively thinking about it, then yes," he affirms, and Chad silences. "The guard also said you took something into the bathroom with you. What was it?"
Chad raises an eyebrow, "You mean, like a vibrater?"
"I'm going to need to confiscate that," he informs.
"Okay." Chad takes a moment, "I really don't use it that much, anyway."
"How did you even get it?" his mother intrudes.
When his father looks from her to him, he answers, "The internet."
"The internet," she sighs.
"We're going to have to have the guard supervise your computer use, then, too," his father instructs.
"About that," Chad thinks. "Can't you just lock my windows from the outside or something? I don't want some random man in my room when I'm trying to sleep."
"They're our most trusted staff," he reminds him.
"I don't care," Chad's voice raises. "I don't know who the fuck these people are or what they're hiding."
"We're doing this," his mother responds, "so that you can still have all your freedoms. Would you rather have us place you in a room without anything you could hurt yourself with?"
"Maybe," he enforces.
His father comments, "You wouldn't have anything that's yours. You wouldn't have television, you wouldn't have your laptop—not even your own bed."
"And no bathroom," she adds. "You don't want to know how many suicides happen in washrooms. We need the guard to monitor how long you're in there for."
"You're asking me to choose between privacy and freedom?" Chad disbelieves.
"That's the kind of decision you're going to have to make as a government official," he evenly expresses. "Would you rather have a guard watching you but have access to everything you own or would you rather trade your guard for what equates to a padded room?"
Chad contemplates, "I guess, having a guard isn't that bad."
His mother mentions, "The ones assigned to you have worked for us for at least ten years. You can trust them."
"After lunch," his father continues, "we'll go to your room so that you can hand over any sex toys you have."
"Unbelievable," Chad murmurs, before he eyes over the chicken alfredo, brownies, and fruit salad. "Is there anything here that doesn't have fat?"
"That's another thing," he says, and Chad faces him. "I want to see your food diary."
Chad narrows his eyes, "I don't have a food diary."
"You don't?" he prods.
"No," he takes offense. "I'm not Ben. I don't keep track of every little thing I eat."
"So, Ben was right," Charming interprets. "You're not eating fat at all."
"There's fat in everything," Chad counters. "I don't need to keep track to lower it."
"Fat promotes brain function," he recalls. "And your brain scans came back normal."
"This better not be going where I think it's going," Chad asserts.
"We can't control what you eat at school," his mother says, "but we can make sure you're eating right while you're here."
"Eating right?" Chad gapes. "Since when is fat a good thing?"
"I did a little research," his father comments. "It's the saturated fat you need to keep track of. Fat itself isn't something to fear." He takes out a sheet of paper, "You're allowed up to twenty-two grams of saturated fat and seventy grams of total fat per day for a two thousand calorie diet."
"They're talking about health," Chad argues, "not staying fit."
Charming frowns, "Health is what matters."
"So, I can't be healthy and look good?" His parents give each other a look, and he insists, "You can't just trap me here alone and make me eat crap."
"You're fifteen years old. You don't need to be dieting."
"It's my body," Chad counters. "Shouldn't I be able to be happy with it?"
"When I was your age," his mother informs, "I was happy to just have something to eat, and I had to get it myself."
"Having access to food isn't a problem anymore," Chad reasons.
"Which is why you should be focusing on your health," she continues. "You have choices. Make the right ones."
Chad furrows his eyebrows, "Are you even hearing yourself? Make the right choice? Does that even give me one?"
"Chad," his father starts.
"And right for who?" Chad interrupts. "If you think my thoughts are going to keep the 'isolation tactic' from working, then why try? What war do you think you're fighting? You think there's some sex demon controlling me that you can starve out?"
His father takes a moment, before he meets his eyes, "We all have things we struggle with, Chad. You can't let it take over your life."
"It's not like I have sex all the time," Chad defends. "I don't masturbate every day. I have other things I want to do. It's not like my life revolves around it."
"It's a problem, if it's affecting your social life," he opinionates. "I can see the distress it's been causing you. I just want to help."
"My friends are fine with it," Chad disagrees. "The only person causing me distress is you. Even Pastor Michelson said it's biological and there's no way God would let me burn in Hell for it."
He asks, "Do you think it's okay to do something, just because you know you won't get punished for it?"
Chad's frown deepens, "I suppose, not."
"God gave us orders to be fruitful and multiply," he reminds him, "and you have an obligation to your people to give them an heir."
"And you have an obligation to that child to give them a loving family," she adds.
He continues, "It's better for everyone if you learn how to appreciate girls for who they are so that you can build a relationship with one someday. You don't have to understand her, but you do need to care about her and be there for each other."
"Whatever." Chad shakes his head, "I'm still not eating any of this crap."
His parents look at each other, before Charming folds his cloth napkin, "Alright, then. You can show us where you're hiding that vibrater." Chad relaxes, placing a hand to his head, before he stands and heads out of the hall.
After Chad opens the wardrobe, he pulls a drawer open and takes out a pair of tube socks. He hands the heavy socks to his father, and Charming unfolds it to take the dildo out. "A little big, isn't it?"
"Well, you know what they say," Chad recounts, 'go big or go home'." His parents look at him, and he sighs, "I just wanted to know what it would be like, okay?" He takes a deep breath, "I don't see the point in this. You realize that if I really wanted to, I could just shove a permanent marker, the handle of a knife, or literally anything else up there, right?"
"The handle of a knife?" his mother gapes.
His father questions, "If you're using the handle of the knife for your pleasure, then which part of it are you holding?"
Chad scratches his head, "I guess it would be the sharp part." before he shrugs. "Okay. One of those large cooking spoons, then."
She turns to Charming, "Maybe we should let him keep it. It might be safer."
Charming looks at Chad, "You said you don't use it that often. How often is that?"
"Once or twice a month?" he unsurely answers, and he sees his doubt. "You assume that just because I like guys that I would like anal too, but I'm not a bottom." He widens his eyes, "If you want me to stop masturbating to guys, then you're going to have to find a way to stop me from jerking off too."
His mother hesitates, "Can't you just think of the sensation? Do you really need to objectify a person?"
"It's not like it's anyone I know," Chad uncomfortably defends. "It's just random pictures online."
"Porn," his father assumes.
Chad partially smiles, "A shirtless guy in swimming shorts isn't that bad either." His parents look at each other again, and Chad's expression falls. "What?"
"They say it takes three months to kick an addiction," Charming looks from Ella to Chad. "So, just no beaches for three months."
"You mean until after winter ends," Chad angrily corrects, before he grins. "What about swimming in gym class?"
"You'll need to opt for the cardio option," he solves.
"He would still be changing with the other guys," she points out.
"I'm not attracted to every guy I see," Chad takes offense. "What do you think, that I'm scoping out my friends in the locker room?"
His father faces him, "But you like Ben?"
Chad falters, "Ben doesn't even change with us. He either leaves his shorts and tank top on or he goes into the stalls."
Charming sighs, "Okay, then. I'm still going to need you to hand your condemns over."
"What?" Chad questions.
Ella mentions, "We gave those to him so that if he found himself in that kind of situation, he could be safe."
Charming comments, "Except, now he's looking for that kind of situation. Maybe if we take them back, he will think twice about having sex with someone."
"Since when are you for abstinence?" Chad argues.
He faces him, "Clearly, there's some parts of our conversations you've missed." and Chad silences. "Give them to me."
Chad shakes his head, "I don't have them."
"I know it's hard to give it up," his father starts.
"You gave me a three-pack," Chad interrupts. "I don't have them."
"You've had sex three times?" he slowly replies.
Chad walks over to the nightstand and takes out a large box, before he shuts the drawer and turns around. His parents walk over, and he explains, "I got these online too."
His father takes them, "A forty pack? How much sex were you planning on having?"
"They don't expire for three years," Chad quietly answers, "and I thought the different sensations would be interesting to try out." His father glances at the variety pack again, and Chad comments, "You know. If I was going to have sex anyway, it might as well be good."
Charming settles, "You can have them back once you've had a long-term girlfriend."
"Long-term?" he inquires.
"Six months," his mother answers, and Charming looks at her. "He's never dated anyone for longer than three months. It's fair."
He turns towards Chad, "Six months, but we need to talk to her first to make sure you're putting just as much effort into it as she is."
"Whatever," Chad bypasses. "You took my stuff. Can you go, now?"
His father nods, before they turn to leave; however, before they make it to the door, Charming turns around, "Oh. Um, if you had a dildo, does that mean you have lube too?"
Chad takes a deep breath and holds it, as he makes his way back to the wardrobe. He takes the other set of tube socks out and feels the tears run to his cheeks, before he turns to throw it at them. Charming catches it, and Chad shouts, "Get the fuck out."
"Pumpkin," his mother frowns.
Charming comments, "Come, Ella. He needs space."
She takes a moment, before she turns and follows him out of the room. The guard shuts the door, and she sighs, "I hate seeing him so upset."
"We should go back to the dining hall," he suggests.
"Charming," she stresses. "What if he never finds a girl he likes? Is he supposed to just stay abstinent forever?"
"He can't take advantage of girls who may be expecting more," he reasons. "Chad's just going to have to learn to respect girls, whether he finds them boring or annoying or not."
"Telling him he can't have sex until marriage is going to send the wrong message."
"I didn't say that," Charming calmly comments.
"We might as well have," she disagrees. "What's keeping him from marrying just for the sake of being able to have sex? And what's stopping him from inviting one of his friends over and telling his wife they just need some guy time?"
"If he's here, we can take care of it."
"He's not going to be here if we keep treating him like he wouldn't understand his own body," she huffs. "Three-year-olds start understanding their likes and dislikes. You honestly believe a teenager isn't going to know what they're sexual interests are?"
"So long as Chad is attracted to girls, all he has to do is find one he's compatible with," Charming counters. "I know he can do this."
She strides away, "We might as well force him into an arranged marriage."
"Wait." She continues, and he catches up with her, "I know we have some disagreements here, but let's talk it over lunch."
"I've lost my appetite," she softly speaks. "I have dishes to do." He stops in his steps and watches as she continues down the hall.