Free Youth in Revolt: The Journals of Nick Twisp by C. D. Payne

heaven. (Or perhaps from hell?)
    “Maybe I could take him,” I said, biting into a glazed old-fashioned.
    Sheeni waited expectantly. I chewed my donut thoughtfully.
    “But I have certain conditions.”
    “What sort of conditions?” she asked nervously.
    “If Albert is going to be our love child, I’d want to feel like the only dad on the scene. Trent has to go.”
    Sheeni pondered this. “That’s asking a lot,” she said at last.
    “Is it?” I asked.
    “We’re very close.”
    “I want to be even closer.”
    “Trent has a brilliant mind,” Sheeni observed.
    “I’m not exactly retarded.”
    “He’s very good-looking.”
    “Looks aren’t everything.”
    “He has a great body.”
    “OK, I can take up bodybuilding.”
    Sheeni bit her lip and thought some more. “Trent worships the ground I walk on.”
    Welcome to the club, Trent! “It’s your choice,” I said. “Life with me and the dog you love. Or a pet-free existence with a shallow, egotistical poet.”
    Sheeni swallowed the last of her donut and licked her lovely fingers. “OK, Nick. I guess I don’t have any choice. I’ll break up with Trent. But if he kills himself, it’s on your conscience.”
    “I accept full responsibility,” I said. “For the dog. And the deserted lover.”
    Sheeni beamed. “Well good. That’s settled.”
    “Not quite, darling,” I said. “I want one thing more.”
    “What?”
    I looked Sheeni straight in the eyes. “You know,” I said.
    “Oh no,” protested Sheeni. “Not that. You’re too young. I don’t want that on my conscience.”
    “What do you mean!” I said. “You were 13!”
    “That’s different. Girls mature faster.”
    “But how else can I really feel bonded to my love child?” I demanded.
    Sheeni looked like she regretted ever having introduced that phrase into the conversation. “Do you have a condom?”
    Now we were getting somewhere! “Of course,” I said.
    “What brand?”
    I checked my wallet. “Uh, it’s a Sheik.”
    “That’s bad,” said Sheeni. “Those are made for big guys. It might slip off you. And motherhood is definitely not in my plans.”
    For a woman with just one sexual experience, Sheeni seemed to know a great deal about male contraceptives. “OK,” I said, “I’ll get another kind. Any brand you want.”
    Sheeni thought some more. “It has to be in a safe place. A nice comfortable bed. With no threat of interruptions. And for relaxation and mood setting, some good red wine—preferably French.”
    I was suddenly aware the woman I loved was definitely the daughter of a successful attorney.
    “OK,” I said. “Anything else?”
    “I want a new condom. Not one that’s been riding around in your wallet for years.
Consumers
rated them a while back, I suggest you get their top-rated brand. This may take some research in the library. I’d appreciate a photocopy of the article. plus, for supplementary protection, I want a name-brand spermicide.”
    “How about I have a quick vasectomy just to be on the safe side?” I asked.
    The sarcasm didn’t register. “Well, Nick. That, of course, is your decision to make,” Sheeni said.
    “Don’t you want to have my children someday?” I asked.
    Sheeni was shocked. “Don’t be silly. I don’t plan to marry until I’m at least 30. And the father of my future children is probably now at the Sorbonne, studying philosophy.”
    How I hate that unknown pretentious Frog!
    Pensively, I watched Sheeni sip her coffee. I had a tall mountain to climb, with many treacherous glaciers still to cross, but finally, at last, I had obtained a stamped and signed entry visa to the paradise that lay beyond. Now I could begin to believe that tantalizing but abstract concept, commonly termed “sexual intercourse,” might actually become a part of my everyday reality. In short, I had a real prospect for getting laid.
    “Well,” I said, chugging my coffee, “if I’m going to get all of this ready before tonight, we’d better