Free Kiss and Tell 3 by Faith Winslow

yelling, I felt both sickened and saddened by the ugliness around me, and I realized that maybe that was why London ratted me out. Maybe he wanted someone else to experience the ugliness that he felt in his own life. They say that misery loves company, and some people are just prone to dragging others down with them.
    Whatever London’s excuse was, it sucked, and I could never forgive him for it. But, at the moment, he was beside the point. I had bigger fish to fry in this kitchen. Mom and Dad were starting to ask more questions. They weren’t just trying to confirm London’s story now; they were trying to get details, and they were moving on to making harsh statements.
    “Are you dating?”
    “Did he try to pay you?”
    “That fucking pervert.”
    “How many times did it happen?”
    “What were you thinking?”
    “You can’t keep seeing him.”
    “Did you use protection?”
    “This can’t go any further.”
    “Does anybody else know about this?”
    “Enough is enough, Kirby.”
    Again, who said what and when they said it was lost on me. It all came at me in a torrent. All I know is that I barely spoke this round, and didn’t speak it all over the next few minutes.
    During those next few minutes, Mom and Dad did something akin to conferring over a game plan, or coming up with a method of damage control. They brainstormed back and forth for a bit, discussing how I should end things, if I hadn’t already; how we should explain things to anyone who may have heard any “rumors,” if they’d already started to spread; and what should be done to make sure that I didn’t spiral out of control, if it wasn’t already too late to stop that from happening.
    I felt like one of the high-priced paintings on the wall. I was being talked about, not too, and what was going on in my own mind didn’t seem to matter. So much chatter. So much plotting.
    “Stop!” I finally shouted. I shouted it so loudly that I think my voice resonated off of a pot or pan somewhere. Mom and Dad both fell silent and looked at me.
    “I’m 22 years old,” I said, firmly. I was still talking loudly, but was no longer shouting. “You want to know if what London said about me and Mr. Swift—about me and Anthony —is true? I’ll tell you… Yes. Yes, it is. I don’t know exactly what London told you, but, whatever it was, the bottom line is true. Anthony and I have been seeing each other—and, yes, we’ve been intimate.
    “We’ve had sex. And, we’ll probably do it again. I don’t know if we’re in love, or if we’re dating—or what’s going on—but, I do know that there’s something between us, and we both want to explore it. I didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t want you getting in my way. But, now that you know, you know, and there’s nothing I can do to change that. You’re either cool with it, or you’re not… I’m not going to stop seeing him.”
    Mom and Dad both had stunned expressions on their faces. I’d never stood up to either of them before, so they were probably shocked by that alone, and what I said probably really sealed the deal for them. I’d certainly said more than a mouthful.
    Mom looked at Dad, then looked back to me. Her messy eyelids pooled with tears.
    “Get out,” she said. “If you can’t live by our rules, you can’t live in our house. As long as you date that man, you’re not welcome here.”
    “Alright then,” I said. I threw my keyring on the table, surrendering my keys to the house and to my car, I turned, and I walked out the door. Like a good girl, I did as my mother had instructed. I got out.

Chapter 17
     
    So, that’s it. That’s my story. That’s Kirby Miller’s Adventure … or at least that’s how the more dramatic parts of it played out.
    The night that my parents kicked me out was eight months ago—and, since then, a lot has happened. I’m sure you’re wondering what, and, don’t worry, I’ll tell you. But, first, let me tell you something else. Let