Free Sister of Silence by Daleen Berry Page A

too.
    But they couldn’t know I really was one of them, that I wasn’t a virgin. I didn’t want anyone to know. My friends would think I was a slut—like the girls who had sex with every guy they dated.
    After gym, we filed past Mrs. Niles toward the showers. For all her gruffness, she had a heart of gold. She treated her students with respect and expected excellence in return. I admired her and sometimes envied the close relationship she had with her basketball players, girls whose athleticism—unlike my own—wasn’t confined to volleyball and swimming. I knew they confided in her, for after class they often lingered at her office door.
    Maybe I could talk to her. She’ll know what to do. Or, I could talk to Mom. Couldn’t I?
    Always reserved, Mom wasn’t easy to talk to, especially about sex. The very topic seemed to make her uncomfortable. Besides, it took all the time she had to care for my sisters, along with now cooking for the two boarders we had taken in.
    I longed to confide in her, yet I knew I never would. I was too ashamed. I hated myself for allowing the sex to continue, feeling totally responsible.
    Instead, I buried myself in my books so I wouldn’t think about it. If I wasn’t studying, I was reading. But where I once read mystery novels or dime store romances, I now read harder, grittier pieces like Helter Skelter , which led to terrifying nightmares. And quite often, I woke up thinking I was the pregnant Sharon Tate, about to be murdered.
     
    Winter arrived with a vengeance when a heavy snow began falling in January, and didn’t stop until the mountains were buried beneath a twenty-inch blanket. During the month-long school closure, Neal, an older boy who drove the kind of van most fathers feared their daughters going anywhere near, began flirting with me.
    Not long before, Eddie had lost his job and went to Tennessee to find work. He didn’t even tell me goodbye. In defiance, I responded to Neal’s flirtation. He invited me to a sled-riding party not far from my house, but when Mom said I couldn’t go, I climbed out my bedroom window and jumped into the deep snow below.
    Walking up the hill, I knew my mother might find out, but I didn’t care. As I drew closer to my destination, I could see a bright glow and I heard the sound of muffled chatter. Rounding a corner, I saw a rough-looking crowd gathered around a big bonfire.
    “Hey Daleen .” Neal grinned at me.
    “Hey .” I waved, feeling awkward beside his friends.
    Someone offered me a bottle of beer, which I turned down, and what I thought was a cigarette. I didn’t want them to think I thought I was too good for them, so I took few drags, inhaling deeply like my father always did. The nicotine from the cigarette seemed to open my brain, causing everything around me to become exaggerated. Then I realized it was marijuana.
    “So you wanna ride?” Neal moved beside me, and I suddenly felt very liberated from my restrictive mother.
    “Sure.” I shrugged nonchalantly.
    “You can sit here .” Neal motioned to the empty spot on the wooden flyer in front of him. As I sat between his legs and wedged my feet against the sled’s metal steering bar, he pulled me even closer.
    “How’s that? You ready?” Neal’s beer breath warmed my ear.
    I nodded, acutely aware my derriere was smack up against him. Pushing off, we went flying down the hill. Part of me hoped he would kiss me, another part feared he might. Neal stood up when the runners ground to a stop.
    “Here you go,” he said as he extended his arm. I let him pull me up, until our faces were just inches apart, when a loud voice intruded.
    “That was some ride, huh?” Neal’s friend Jackson and a few other teens pulled up next to our sled. “Makes me want another beer.”
    The moment was lost, and Neal grabbed our sled. We headed back up the hill as the runners from other sleds cut through the snow, swishing by in a blur. Back at the top, I warmed my hands before the fire, and