I don’t really miss having a dad, you know? Although sometimes I’d love to what he was like, what he did in his spare time – because maybe it’d help me understand me. But then I look around me at all the confused, clueless kids, and I figure maybe it wouldn’t help a whole lot.
It’s just – Mum and I are different, right? Different personalities, different reactions to the same things. I don’t really get her. And sometimes it’d be nice to be able to say, “Oh, I’m like Dad in that” instead of “I don’t know why I do that.”
Enough of the pity party. I’ve been upset because church is just giving me the willies lately. Like I told Mark, this all seemed to make sense once. Now I see stupid things everywhere, and I don’t get it. Is it me, is it the church, or is it the religion? Or is someone just really crap at explaining this stuff?
Sex is the thing that opened the floodgates of what-the-hell?. The church is huge on being ‘good’ when it comes to sex. None outside marriage. None with same-sex partners. Not that we hear many sermons about it, except at youth group. But this guy got kicked out a couple of months ago for sleeping with someone else’s wife, and they got caught (obviously). So sex is clearly an important priority for the church, right? Except if you actually read the bible, Jesus never really mentioned sex, he talked about love for each other and sticking to your word and not being judgmental. And hello – when’s the last time YOU saw someone get kicked out of church for breaking promises or being an unloving git? Hell, those sort often seem to become elders.
I don’t see why it’s all such a big deal. Why does everyone get so heated up about an orgasm now and then? I don’t want to talk to Mum about it anymore. She doesn’t understand, and she seems to think I’m just looking for a justification to sleep around. Why does this all have to be so hard?
Mark and I walk down toward the beach, hand in hand. He’s quieter than usual, so I let him be, figuring silence is easier for him than trying to be sociable. When we get near the water, he throws himself down onto the sand and sighs heavily.
“Want to talk about it?” I ask.
“I went on a date last week,” he says.
Umm. This isn’t sounding end-of-the-worldish.
“Lisa,” he says, and sighs again.
So much for the ‘oh no’ factor, I think. Interesting that he didn’t tell me about it til now. Meh – we’re not that much in each others’ pockets.
“It didn’t go well?” is all I say.
“Bored me to tears and pissed me off… then told me I was a shite date and she only said yes out of pity.”
I snort, amused despite his angst.
“Dude, she’s been after you for weeks, that was not a pity date!”
“I’m short, I’m weird… what hope do I really have?” he asks, looking up.
“Are you kidding?”
Right. Sure, he’s not Mr Popular, but if I had as many boys drooling over me as he has girls, I wouldn’t exactly be angsting about how ugly I was.
“You know,” I say slowly, “I happen to think you’re a bit of alright…”
Mark frowns slightly and stares at me.
I sigh. Well, I’d meant to mention it eventually. If I’m going to screw up the friendship, it might as well be when he needs to feel better about himself, right?
“You look nice, you’re the person I like best out of everyone I’ve ever met, and you smell good. I like you. I wouldn’t mind kissing you in the slightest…”
He’s silent. Well, that’s a bad sign.
“Don’t you like being friends?” he asks, looking utterly confused.
“Why would that stop us being friends?” I ask.
“I don’t know, it just – it does, doesn’t it?”
I shake my head.
“I might hate you for a while, but I can’t imagine ever not being your friend.” I say quietly.