NOVEMBER 5, 2009
On Thursday the first cold front of the year blows in. At the quarry a chilly wind pebbles the surface of the water. We jump in anyway. And play until our lips turn blue. We drive home with the heater on full blast. The windows steam up from the cold air outside and our wet clothes inside.
It is obvious by now that Tyler is not attracted to me and that is fine. Most likely he is gay and squelching rumors by taking a girl out to the quarry. A girl that none of his friends will ever talk to. I don’t care. Our suspended moments are better than any of the so-called sexual encounters I’ve had where I did things that I made myself believe I wanted to do. Then worried whether I was doing them the right way and whether my body was good enough. My whole life Mom has drilled into me that sex is all natural and beautiful and nothing to be ashamed of.
Playing with Tyler at the quarry feels the way she always told me that sex was supposed to feel.