I just hate when they argue.
   Because it’s usually about me.
   More and More Lately
   It seems like Mom makes
   a point of staying gone when
   Daddy’s home. She golfs. Plays
   tennis. Spends hours at the gym.
   Sometimes she visits a friend
   in Monterey. I assume a female
   friend, but wouldn’t put it past Mom
   to have a thing going on the side.
   Pretty sure she doesn’t have a bi
   side, but whatever floats her lead-
   bottomed boat, as long as it means
   she’s hanging out anywhere but here.
   I love when it’s just Daddy and me.
   Usually it’s here in SC, but once
   in a while, I’ll go into the city,
   spend the weekend with him there.
   San Francisco has to be the most
   beautiful place in the world, with
   its stunning old homes, stacked
   like Legos on its incredibly steep
   hills. There are museums. Galleries.
   The symphony and the ballet.
   Daddy has taught me to appreciate
   all of these things, and not give
   a sideways glance at SF’s uglier
   underbelly. Homeless people.
   Panhandlers. Drug dealers, pimps,
   and Tenderloin freaks, often only
   a street or two removed from
   the thriving business district
   and the vibrant waterfront tourist
   traffic. A city of enigmas.
   I like enigmas. I mean, face
   it. Semi-absent father. Absent-
   for-the-moment sister. Totally
   absent mother, not a whole lot
   of affection, but plenty of time
   all on my own, I’m a walking,
   talking poster child for early
   promiscuity. Aren’t I?
   Well, Not Exactly
   See, between the longtime local
   hype about AIDS and a real-time
   example of how rotten young
   mothering can make a person
   (Mom was only nineteen when she
   had Kyra; I followed a little over three
   years later), not to mention how truly
   disgusting venereal diseases
   look in those movies they show
   you in school, I have not been
   in a hurry to let just any guy
   pluck the rosebud. True love first,
   I’ve always said, and that has
   been enough to keep me a virgin.
   Up until now. I mean, technically
   I’m still a virgin at fifteen.
   But I’m also in love, and I’m pretty
   sure Lucas loves me, too. We’ve been
   skin-on-skin. I just haven’t let him
   talk me into “all the way in.”
   That’s Liable to Change
   Any time. I’ve been holding out,
   wanting to be certain that he loves
   me for more than my bod. But how
   can you really know that?
   We’ve been together almost
   a year. He’s a senior at Kirby,
   the same private college prep school
   that prepped Kyra for Vassar.
   She was valedictorian, of course.
   I take AP classes at Empire. Less
   pressure. Less having to live up
   to valedictorian expectations.
   Lucas and I met at a Kirby honor
   choir performance last spring. Kyra
   sang two solos. Lucas stood in the back
   row, mostly faking the words. Once
   in a while he actually belted out a few
   in a deep, mellow bass. I couldn’t
   help but stare. And not at Kyra.
   Lucas stole my attention completely.
   I mean, he’s freaking beautiful.
   His hair falls, a lush gold cascade,
   well past his shoulders. It frames
   the steep angles of his face perfectly.
   His eyes are green, but almost
   clear, like cool emerald pools.
   You want to dive deep down
   into them and swim awhile.
   That first night, after the sheet
   music was all stored away,
   I went looking for Kyra and cookies,
   not necessarily in that order.
   I found her, talking with Lucas.
   And for not even close to the first
   time in my life, the little green
   monster sank its fangs into me.
   Kyra wasn’t interested in Lucas.
   Her taste in men runs toward PhD
   candidates (total geeks). But I
   wasn’t sure Lucas knew that.
   So I took dead aim at making
   darn sure he did, pushing straight
   in between them. “Hey, sis,” I said,
   “Mom is looking for you.”
   That Was Mostly a Lie
   But it worked. Kyra kisses
   Mom’s butt almost as much
   as Mom kisses hers. She took
   off with a simple, Excuse me.
   I turned to Lucas. “Good
   performance. You’ve got
   a great voice… .” Better
   eyes, but I didn’t go there.
   His smile revealed major bucks
   in dental work. Yeah. At least
   when I can remember the words.
   So … you’re Kyra’s little sister?
   The “little” made me wince.
   Of course, I was only fourteen
   at the time. Kyra’s eighteenth
   birthday was sneaking up.
   Whatever. I had to play nice.
   “That’s me. Kyra’s little sister.
   But you can call me Whitney
   if you want. It’s shorter.”
   Something about the tone
   of my voice tipped him off.
   Ooh. Struck a nerve, huh?
   Well, little sis, no worries.
   He gave a long, assessing look.
   You measure up okay. Besides …
   He lowered his voice. Just between
   you and me, your sister’s a bitch.
   O-M-G! No one, and I mean no
   one, had ever told me that before.
   I studied his face, trying to find
   a hint of insincerity. Couldn’t.
   Something sparked between us.
   Maybe it was as simple as him
   thinking my sister was a bitch.
   Sharing my opinion. Something
   others rarely do. And not only
   sharing it, but not being afraid to
   voice such an unpopular sentiment.
   “Just between you and me, I agree.”
   Okay, Very Likely
   He saw how much I needed
   to hear that, and maybe he figured
   it might be a way into my panties,
   and maybe it will lead to that eventually.
   Maybe even soon. I’m not really sure
   how or why I’ve held out this long,
   except that protecting my virginity
   is one thing I can accomplish
   all on my own. Won’t give it away
   too cheaply. Not even to Lucas,
   whose touch simply electrifies me.
   That night, as the reception broke up
   and we started toward our families,
   our hands touched. The energy
   was pure magic. He felt it too,
   turned back to me immediately.
   His smile was lupine. Ravenous.
   I needed to get to know this guy,
   and so when he said, Uh … don’t
   suppose you’d give me your number?
   I recited it once. Repeated it.
   Asked him to repeat it to me,
   a feat that he managed easily.
   H 
					     					 			e remembered it too.
   It Kind of Surprised Me
   When he called a couple of days
   later. Not sure why. I guess it’s
   because I always set myself up
   for disappointment. Not that time.
   Hey, he said, it’s Lucas, from
   Kirby…. Like I wouldn’t have
   remembered! I was thinking about
   a day trip to Big Sur. Interested?
   Like I wouldn’t have been!
   But I didn’t want him to know
   my temp had just flared well over
   one-oh-one. “Uh, maybe. When?”
   I don’t suppose you could, like,
   ditch school tomorrow? At
   my long pause, he laughed. Okay.
   How about Saturday, then?
   That gave me two whole days
   to make up a believable excuse.
   No way would Mom let me go
   to Big Sur with a guy I just met.
   Okay, she wouldn’t have let me
   go with any guy. Not that I cared.
   Getting away with stuff was a well-
   loved hobby. And even if it wasn’t,
   I would have done just about
   anything to spend the day with
   someone who made me feel
   important. Pretty, maybe. Alive.
   Believe it or not, my mom made
   it easy. I’m playing golf with Cyn
   tomorrow, she told me on Friday.
   And we’re doing dinner afterward.
   You’ll be okay here alone, right?
   She barely even heard my ramble
   about going over to Trish’s for
   he day. Great. I’ll be home late.
   Just like that, my Saturday had
   opened up. And, very much like
   my wandering mother, I was oh-
   so-ready to go out and play.
   We Played That Saturday
   Lucas’s silver Eclipse Spyder
   seemed to maneuver those
   Highway 1 curves all by itself.
   Good thing, considering how
   buzzed we got. Okay, it wasn’t
   the first time I’d smoked weed,
   but I’d rarely smoked myself
   so close to outer space before.
   Finally Lucas pulled well off
   the road, parked. C’mon.
   I want to show you something.
   He took my hand, led me along
   a narrow trail to a steep rock
   wall. No way could you climb
   up from the front, but around back,
   little ledges allowed access to the top.
   Despite the residual morning mist,
   the view of the crest-and-crash
   Pacific literally stole my breath
   away. “Insane,” I managed.
   We sat, lost in our buzz and the roar
   of the sea, and when he slipped
   his arm around my shoulder, it
   felt right. No, better than right.
   It felt necessary. He wanted
   to kiss me, I knew that. And
   I wanted to let him, but I was
   afraid I’d look like an idiot.
   I’d only ever kissed two other
   guys, in an eighth-grade game
   of Truth or Dare. Not real kisses.
   Not even real practice kisses.
   Still, when he touched my face,
   it rotated easily toward his. And
   when our eyes locked, I dove into
   those emerald pools and our first
   kiss was an effortless float.
   All the love I’d ever thirsted
   for swelled, symphonic. Finally,
   too soon, he pulled away. Wow.
   A Man of Few Words
   Most definitely, but I didn’t
   need words then. I needed
   another kiss, which he gave
   me, and another. And another.
   Without asking for more. Even
   though by the end of that make-out
   session, my body was saying, “Please,
   more.” And it has many times since.
   A few days ago Daddy was in the city,
   and Mom was off at some fashion
   show. I asked Lucas to come over.
   We were making out hot and heavy.
   He started to unbutton my blouse.
   I let him. And when he unzipped
   my jeans, I helped him help me
   out of them. Snared by the heat
   of his kiss, I barely noticed when
   he slipped out of his own Levis.
   Skin urgent against skin, only
   panties and boxers between us,
   I was ready to shed that final thin
   barrier, allow him access to the most
   private part of me, when familiar faces
   floated past the window. Not-quite busted!
   A Poem by Ginger Cordell
   Faces
   I wear many faces,
   some way too old
   to fit the girl glued
   to the back of them.
   I
   keep my faces in a box,
   stashed inside of me.
   It’s murky in there,
   overcast with feelings I
   don’t
   allow anyone to see.
   Not that anyone cares
   enough to go looking.
   No one wants to
   know
   what bothers me. Too
   hung up on their own
   problems. Sometimes
   I think I have to see
   the real
   Ginger, so I open
   the box, search inside.
   But no matter how hard
   I look, I can’t find
   me.
   Ginger
   SOP
   Standard operating procedure.
   Iris is yelling again. At the phone.
   At the guy on the other end.
   At what he’s done to her world—
   her totally messed-up, totally self-
   centered piece of the universe.
   Wish she would just shut the fuck
   up. Hang up. Forget Hal or Bill
   or Joe or Frank or whatever this
   one’s name is. I can’t remember
   them all. Only a couple of names,
   a face or two. A few other body
   parts I’ll never be able to forget.
   All because of Iris’s “womanly
   needs.” That’s what she calls
   her overinflated sex drive. Why
   can’t she stop thinking about
   herself and act like a mom?
   She could start by letting us call
   her Mom. But, no, she insists on
   Iris. Says it makes her feel pretty.
   Not sure she was ever really
   pretty, but if she was, too
   many babies and too much
   hard living has sucked her dry.
   Too much, too many. That
   describes Iris pretty damn well.
   Too much booze. Too many
   smokes. Way too many
   pills. Speed. Downers.
   Everything in between. Any-
   thing to shut off and shut
   up what’s left of her brain.
   A Door Slams
   Guess she’s done on the phone.
   Done with another Mr. Wrong.
   Thirty seconds, she’ll be in here,
   crying. Wanting me to say, “Don’t
   cry, Iris. Everything will be okay.”
   And, you know, maybe it will.
   “Okay” is all in how you look at
   things. Compared to some bum
   on the street, or some starving
   kid in Africa, we’re okay, living
   with our grandma, who manages
   to feed Iris and us six kids.
   Six kids, five different fathers.
   Only Maryann and I share one,
    
					     					 			not that we know one damn thing
   about him, except he’s an army
   lifer who gave us his face (neither
   of us takes after our mother) and his
   last name. Guess Iris actually
   married him. Wonder if she
   ever officially unmarried him.
   Yes, no, or maybe so, the other
   kids—Porter, Honey, Pepper,
   and Sandy—all have different
   fathers, but share the same last
   name. Belcher, just like Gram’s.
   Our first names come courtesy
   of Iris’s infatuation with ancient
   black-and-white TV reruns. Ginger
   and Mary Ann were characters on
   Gilligan’s Island. Porter and
   Sandy were on a show about
   a dolphin named Flipper. Pepper
   was Police Woman, and Honey
   West was a private investigator,
   cop, or other woman-in-danger.
   Anyway, we’ve been at Gram’s
   place in California for seven months,
   eating every day, sleeping warm.
   But I don’t know how long it will
   last. Iris gets along with her mother
   about how she gets along with her men.
   Thirty Seconds Is Up
   Iris doesn’t bother to knock.
   She slaps against the door,
   pushes her way into the room
   that I share with Mary Ann, Honey,
   and Pepper. Four girls, two
   beds. Luckily, only I’m here now.
   Iris tosses herself across my bed,
   lands facedown against rumpled
   blankets. Bastard! Why are they all
   such bastards? She sobs, and her
   body shakes like she’s got the DTs.
   Like she’d ever suffer through detox.
   I should feel sorry for her, I guess.
   But I don’t. I can’t. She makes
   me sick. Maybe because I know
   I could turn out just like her. No way
   to dig myself out of this grave for
   the living. No way I’ve found yet.
   I try to dig up a little sympathy.
   “He wasn’t such a great guy
   anyway, Iris.” He was nasty.
   But she doesn’t think so. No one’s
   p-perf-fect. I thought we
   were doing just f-f-fine.
   Anger punches me suddenly,
   hard, little blows to the gut.
   “Maybe he found out how you
   make your … uh … living.
   Not many guys will put up
   with someone who screws
   other guys for money. And if
   they do, then all they’re after
   is free booze and an easy lay.”
   She jerks upright, grabs me
   by the shoulders, shakes till