It's almost my seventeenth birthday, and the lawyer says the judge will consider what I want. He's confident Dad will have custody of me. Should Mom get her way, I would marry the first eligible Burg man when I turn eighteen. Mom wants me to marry Joseph Morelli. That's a hard no.
I know Joseph Morelli took Valerie's virginity after taking her into the garage. Valerie was sixteen. When I moved home for the summer to help Mom with Valerie's wedding plans during Dad's deployment, Joe tried to talk me out of my pants.
What happened was unpredictable, and I smiled at the memory. Joe exposed himself, thinking I would like to see his limp dick. I laughed when he told me to look at his boys. Joe didn't want me laughing at him. He tore my shirt as the motor mechanism for the rolling garage door sparked, and the garage door flew open, making things worse for Joe. The man was unaware of the crowd he was drawing on the sidewalk as I kicked his ass. It surprised me that nobody jumped to Joe's defence. My bra was exposed by him tearing my shirt, which was lying at Joe's feet. Bruises were already starting to form on my arm where he grabbed me. The lookie-loos watched in amusement as I nearly shoved Joe's precious boys into his abdomen. Men, women and children of the Burg saw Joe Morelli on the greasy floor of the garage, clutching his balls and crying.
After grabbing my torn shirt from the floor, I walked from the garage with my head held high. The women cheered as the men quickly got out of my way. I was a block away from Uncle Joe's house when he ran outside, carrying a shirt for me to pull over my head. Someone must have called Brenda to spread the latest gossip.
The following morning, Mom called, "Joe had to get surgery to repair the damage your lethal knee caused. You must apologize and promise to date him." I outright refused to apologize to a man willing to assault and rape me. Mom called me an ungrateful bitch and a whore. "Only promiscuous girls follow a Morelli into his garage. Valerie would never do such a thing."
"If only you knew," I mumbled. Thankfully, Mom didn't hear me. She was too busy calling me names. "Mom!" I shouted. "I'm not going to date a man who tried to rape me."
"Joseph Morelli would never do such a thing. You're nothing but a liar and a whore!" Mom shouted before hanging up. Good riddance, bitch.
How was I a whore? I was a virgin. Mom's attitude is why I want to live with Dad, who said he was proud of me for defending myself. He thought the part where the garage door flew open from the faulty motor was brilliant. Dad knew I subconsciously opened the garage door and disabled the motor to prevent Joe from closing it.
Did I apologize to Joe Morelli? Hell no. He was in the wrong. However, I didn't press charges for attempted rape, and he didn't charge me for assault. He's free to join the police force once his three-year term with the Navy finishes. It's the most compassion I felt for the man. Morelli will stay out of my life, and I'll stay out of his. Trenton, New Jersey, can kiss my ass. Dad and I went to Point Pleasant that night. We didn't want to stay in Trenton for another day.
The weekend before Dad and I returned to Georgia, I gave my virginity to a boy I met in Point Pleasant. His name was Jed Gregory. He wasn't a virgin, and he knew to use protection. I visited the doctor for birth control shortly after. She checked me for infectious diseases. Daddy found my contraceptives but never said anything. He must have known I slept with the boy. I never saw Jed again. It bothered me initially, but I understand it's better this way. I used the remaining summer days to get over having sex with a boy I didn't love. That Catholic guilt certainly consumes my mind.
Dad and I travel to Trenton during school breaks and holidays. He visits his parents while I see Valerie, Mom and Steve. It's Valerie's last Christmas in Trenton. Steve accepted a job at a law firm in LA. I met Dickie Orr during Christmas break. Technically, it isn't my first time meeting Dickie because he was an usher at Steve and Valerie's wedding. Dickie is handsome and kind. His best friend, Steve Sutton, invited Dickie for Christmas dinner instead of letting his friend be home alone. Mom is happy because Dickie lives in the Burg.
Dickie and I dated long-distance until I graduated high school. I introduced Daddy to Dickie at my high school graduation ceremony. Dad disliked him immediately. I couldn't understand why. Did Dad sense something I was too blind to see?
Mom wanted me to marry Dickie after I turned eighteen, but I went to Douglass College instead. Dad was disappointed that I put off the Army to earn a degree. I argued that I needed something to fall back on if the Army wasn't my career choice after training.
Dickie attends Rutgers, taking law courses. It's his final year in the program. I thought Dickie and Steve were the same age, but I learned Dickie was a year younger. Dickie is four years older than me. We got together whenever our course schedules allow. I love Dickie, but unsure if I was in love with him. There's a difference.
I'm taking Business Administration. It's boring, but I can manage the course load and assignments. I plan to complete the program in twenty-one months, which is the total time it takes. To graduate by next September, I need one hundred twenty credits and a GPA of 2.0. It's a lot of work to accomplish in two years. The admissions department only allows students to earn eleven credits per semester. I only have twenty-two more credits to earn. Once I'm done, I'm enlisting in the Army.
I visited Dad in Georgia for two days before he had to leave. Instead of staying in his house alone, I return to Mom's house in Trenton since it's closer to school. She's overbearing and insists on planning my wedding to Dickie. Why did I stay with Mom? She watched the video of Joseph Morelli attacking me. I never realized someone recorded everything once the garage door opened. The person managed to capture Joe assaulting me first. My mom quickly changed her tune about Joe Morelli. She was apologetic, and I gave her a second chance. Or was it her fourth? I can't remember. It's quite possible I gave Mom more chances than she deserves.
Mom has an ugly wedding gown in my closet. Does she honestly expect me to wear this abomination of lace, tulle and frills? Yuck. It isn't a dress I would choose for myself. The shoes are another issue. One-and-a-half-inch heels? Pass. I have to wear at least three-inch heels. Perhaps Mom thinks higher heels make me look like a hooker.
"Oh! You're home," Mom says as she enters my bedroom. "How do you like the dress? It's gorgeous, don't you think?"
"It's too much, Mom," I reply. "Dickie and I aren't engaged. Why are you planning my wedding and buying things?"
"He proposed," Mom shouts. "Did you break up with him already?" Mom rants for a few minutes, calling me unsavoury names as she spews her litany of bullshit, reminding me of the incident with Morelli. I'm done.
"Mom!" I shout to get her attention. She jumps, placing a hand on her chest. "Return the dress, shoes and anything else you bought for the wedding. Dickie never proposed to me." I felt hurt that Dickie was messing around. I suddenly wonder if I'm the other woman. There's only one way to find out. I need to see Dickie.
"Where are you going?" Mom demands.
"To see Dickie," I reply.
"He returned to the frat house yesterday."
I thanked Mom for the information and packed my bags. I'm returning to my dorm, where I can better handle my emotions. Maybe I'll visit Dickie after depositing my luggage in my room. Hopefully, I won't run into issues with the school for returning to the residence a few days early.
The drive to Douglass takes too long. I'm antsy when I arrive at the dorm. Something feels horribly wrong. After dumping my suitcase inside my room, I risk driving to the fraternity house to see if Dickie's home. I'm not supposed to walk into the house without permission, but I don't care. I need to know if Dickie's entertaining another woman.
Nobody stops me as I enter the house. Tingles on my neck indicate someone is nearby. I ignore the sensation and walk up the ornate staircase to the bedroom at the top. After taking a few deep breaths, I open the door, missing the tie hanging from the knob.
The tingles get stronger as I enter the bedroom. Dickie is lying on his bed with a busty blond woman riding him in a backwards cowboy position. Her breasts bounce as Dickie moans. She removes a lock of hair stuck to her sweaty neck, displaying the rock on her left hand.
"Oh. I'm sorry. I must have opened the wrong door," I quickly reply and leave. The woman with Dickie is my friend, Cindy, from Georgia. I never knew she was sleeping with my boyfriend. Introducing them at the sorority's New Year's Eve party last year was a mistake.
I quickly turn on my heels and bump into someone. Through teary eyes, I can see he's attractive. His skin is a dark mocha latte. The sudden thought of coffee makes my stomach grumble. I move away from his warm embrace to run down the stairs.
He calls, "Wait, babe," but I keep running. I'm in my car, driving away, when I catch him in my rearview mirror, frantically waving for me to stop. I haphazardly park in the lot at my dorm and run into the building, heading straight for my bed.
Twenty minutes later, the residence assistant knocks on the door. "Hey, Steph, are you here?" Samantha asks.
"Come in," I mumble. Sam opens the door to set the takeout bag on my nightstand. "You didn't need to bring me food."
"I didn't," Sam replies. "A handsome man from Rutgers brought it for you. He isn't on your list of approved guests, so he had to trust me to deliver it."
"What's his name?" I ask, sitting up. Sam gasps when she sees my tear-swollen eyes and a red nose from crying. She closes the door and sits on my bed, curling her legs beneath her.
"Rick," she replies, opening the bag to hand me a napkin. I wipe my nose and toss the napkin in the trash can beside my bed. "He said you looked distraught. Rick also said you were hungry and wasn't sure if you'd feed yourself or hide in your room to cry."
"The only Rick I know goes by the name Dickie," I reply. I open the bag and blink away the fresh tears in my eyes. Two cheeseburgers, an extra large order of fries, a cola and two apple pies from McDonald's were in the bag. "How did he know where to find me?"
"Rick said he followed you here. He went to the McDonald's up the street to buy the food and delivered it to the front desk. You're the only curly-haired brunette on the premises today," Sam explains. She smiles as I dig into the food. I offer her some fries.
We ate the takeout food courtesy of Rick, and I told her everything about catching my boyfriend with my best friend from Georgia. Thankfully, Cindy isn't sharing my room. She lives in the sorority with the other fake bitches on the campus. "I don't understand why he would do this to me," I complain.
"Sometimes men cheat when their girlfriends don't have sex with them," Sam suggests.
I roll my eyes, "Dickie and I had sex, Sam. The last time was before we went home for the holidays. I can't believe my friend did this to me."
"Did he give you an orgasm?" Sam tilts her head to the side, awaiting my answer.
I'm honest with the kind woman. "No," I confess. "I faked it every time."
"Was there something he wanted that you refused?" Sam asks. I furrow my brows and shrug. "I meant, did he want to experiment sexually?"
My face flushes as I recall Dickie wanting to stick it where it doesn't belong. Sam giggles. "I take that as a yes. Anal play?" she wonders.
"Oh my gosh. Talking to you is like talking to my best friend, Mary Lou," I groan. Sam patiently waits for me to confess, "He wanted to tap my ass. I don't do the butt stuff. It wasn't pleasant when he stuck his finger there during our sixty-nine moment."
Sam laughs and shares the story about her last boyfriend. I enjoyed her company and wanted to thank the man who bought my dinner. Sam passes me an email address to send Rick a personal thank you letter.
Dickie visits the following morning to apologize. He forgot to break up with me before the holidays. "How long have you been sleeping with Cindy?" I ask.
"Since spring break when you went home to visit your dad," Dickie confesses.
"You have got to be kidding, Dickie!" I scream. "Spring break was over nine months ago. Why didn't you break up with me then?"
"I don't know," Dickie replies, scratching the back of his neck. I want to kill him.
"Give me my room key," I demand. Dickie sighs and removes it from his keychain. "Who made you come here today?" I ask, knowing he didn't visit without prodding.
"Rick," Dickie replies, moving to the door. He opens it and steps over the threshold. "I should probably go now. Can we still be friends?"
"No," I reply, slamming the door in his face and locking it. I vow never to date another man from the Burg.