Free Leap by M.R. Joseph Page A

I’ll be looked at as a whore, or the opposite. The girl who doesn’t put out.” Mack throws the washcloth across the bathroom and stands up.
    “What the fuck, Corrine! Why do you care if you're the girl who doesn’t put out? So what. Who cares? If I were you, I’d rather be cast as the girl who isn’t some slut that sleeps with any guy with a social security number. What’s worse, Rinny?” His voice booms in anger, and even though I’ve heard him yell at me for stupid stuff, the tone takes on a different meaning. “Answer me because I’m here with you—because of you. So I need you to tell me what the big deal is about your virginity. Who cares if you're going into college and you haven’t done it yet? Save it for someone you give a shit about, Rinny. Save it for someone who gives a shit about you. Not someone like Mark. Please.”
    I sit back and lean my back against the tub, raising my knees to my chest.
    I have to try to explain this to him as best as I can. Why it’s not all about losing my virginity. It’s about love and being in love. I want him to know why it’s important to me. The whole thing. He may not understand it, but I have to tell him. He’s my brother, my best friend, and if I can’t tell him, then whom can I tell.
    “You have to just listen to me, Mack, and understand. All my life I watched my parents just exist with each other. I’m sure they love each other and at least respect each other. I mean my dad usually falls asleep on the couch most nights and stays there, they don’t kiss or hug or show any kind of affection towards each other. They never go out on dates alone. They never go away alone. Not like your parents. They went out on dates alone a lot and your dad always bought your mom flowers and shit. He showed her how much he loved her in so many ways.” His face drops. No doubt I hit a sore spot because he remembers the way his parents were towards one another before his dad died.
    I rub my head again. “I’m sorry, Mack.” He shrugs.
    “It’s okay. Go on.”
    “I need to feel a connection to someone. I want what they don’t have. I know I’m young, but I need it. I crave it. The affection, the intimacy, Mack. I want that. I can’t explain why I want that part of it so much, but I do. I’m a woman. I’ve kissed guys and gone down on guys . . .” He groans.
    “Sorry. I know. Too much info.” Even the truth unsettles him but he has to realize I’m being real here. I have needs and feelings.
    Mack settles down beside me against the tub and stretches his long legs in front of him—almost touching the cabinetry of the sink in front of us. He takes in a long breath and appears to hold it like doing that will help him think of some kind of physiological thing to say.
    I sneak a sideways glance at him and nudge him with my shoulder.
    “Mack, I know you won’t understand. You’ve had countless girlfriends who you’ve slept with. Didn’t you feel any sort of connection to them? Didn’t you feel anything for them?”
    He answers truthfully as always and I’m not surprised.
    “No, not really and I don’t think I was supposed to either. Let me lay it out there for you. For a guy, you see a girl and she’s pretty and that's what your think at first. Then you automatically think with your dick. It’s nature, it’s natural, it’s just the way guys are. First time I got laid—" He stops for a brief second and pauses and looks to me for permission to continue.
    Letting out a sigh I tell him, “I’m listening, Mack.”
    “First time I had sex was behind Martin’s Deli in Bellmore with Kristy Surplus in her older cousin's car.”
    I smile. “Don’t you mean Kristy Slurp-less? Remember when you told me when she used to go down on you she used to . . .”
    Mack holds up his hand to shut me up knowing quite well what I mean. He tells me everything so of course I know that Kristy Surplus or Slurp-less used to be a saliva machine when she gave him blowjobs. Quite