"I think my mother figured out just as I entered puberty that she was getting too old and used up to use her body for a meal ticket out of the slums. So, that’s when she decided I’d be a fine one. I lost my virginity at 15. She arranged it. He was thirty." Poor Ed gasped at that. "I don’t know for sure if he paid my mother for the ‘privilege’, but I have my suspicions. Evidently, I wasn’t good enough, because he never came back. I guess my screaming terror when he took my virginity scared him off. Mom just moved on to number two and number three-both older. Number four, I revolted. He was disgusting. I ran out of the car and ran home. I got a beating for that. Yes, she hits me."
"I strongly suspect she pushed me into The Program so I’d get scooped up by some kid with money. She tells me all the time how much men love my body, and how I have to use it, because that’s all I have."
"All you have?" Ed said. "You’re ranked seventh in the class! Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt."
I smiled at him. "That’s OK. My mother doesn’t look at my report cards. A girl, making it on brains? Completely doesn’t get the concept. All girls have is a body. I told her the other night that she just thinks I’m as dumb as a rock because she is. I got slapped for that, too. Anyway, that’s her thing-your body is all you got, so sell it to the nearest bidder. Lily Woodard would really blow her mind, huh?" Ed managed a grin at that.
"Amanda asked me yesterday why I freeze up when I get touched. This is why. I’ve had it drummed into my head for so long that my body is to be used for men’s pleasure that the programming kicks in, even though I know intellectually that it’s bullshit. This is why I’m scared of my own shadow. This is why I hated parading my body around naked. Ed, I don’t even play with myself. I can’t. I used to, a little, before I lost my virginity. I think I’m frigid. Amanda told me she liked it when guys played with her while she was in the program. I get no pleasure out of it-just pain and disgust. And I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t even know if I can. I might be too brainwashed."
"So, that’s Natalie’s story. The child of a drunk irresponsible whore, who’s been encouraged since puberty to whore herself. I have no friends, I have no life. The only thing that keeps me going is that seventh in the class thing. A college scholarship-that’s my only hope. I think my grades are good enough. Grandpa’s trust fund isn’t enough to pay for college, I need the scholarship. That’s the only way I get out of this."
"Now you know why I love Bogie, and Hepburn, and why some of that trust fund and my summer job money goes to videotapes. Because it’s my escape-my only one. For two hours, I can live in another world-and forget about mine."
"So now you know."
CHAPTER NINE EDWhat do you say to that? I mean, what do you say to that? My God.
It wasn’t as bad as the story I heard from Annie Zipelski on that day two years ago, but it was close.
I started with what I had told Annie on that day. "Natalie, I think you need to talk to someone."
"I just did," she managed a smile.
"Yes, but I’m talking about a professional."
"I can’t. I just can’t. For one thing, the poor excuse for health insurance my mother gets at Doc’s wouldn’t cover it. For another thing, I just can’t. For one thing, it’d end up in child protective services."
"Wouldn’t that be a good thing?" I asked.
"No, it wouldn’t. Foster care? At my age? Ed, I have a little over a year and I can get out of here. I can hold on for that long."
"OK," I said, "but if you change your mind, I can arrange it-and I don’t think, in this case, money would be a problem. I told you I love Mike’s mom, Ellie. She’s a child psychologist, specializing in adolescents, and she’s a good one. Written books and everything. And I think she can take you as a client and avoid protective services, for someone of your age-I can check with her, without revealing any details of course. But it might help. You might even just want to talk to her informally. I can arrange that, too. There’s nobody better."
"I’ll think about it," she said. "Now that you know, what do you think?"
"I think you’re incredibly brave," I said.
"Brave? ME? If I was brave, I wouldn’t be living in a shell."
"If you weren’t brave, you wouldn’t be living. Like I said, my best friend’s mother is a psychologist. I know quite a bit. And I know teenagers commit suicide every day with a lot less reason that you have."
"I never thought of it like that," she said. "I suppose you’re right. I guess it’s hard to think of yourself as brave when you dread getting out of bed in the morning."
"I can understand that," I said.
"I’m glad you think I’m brave, though. I thought, after you knew, you might, you know…"
"What?"
"You know…think I’m…"
"What, you thought I’d think less of you?" I asked. She nodded. "That’s nuts. Completely nuts. I like you, Natalie, I think you’re great. What your mother is doesn’t change that."
"Thanks," she whispered. "That means more to me than you’ll ever know."
"Your mother is why you don’t make friends easily, isn’t it?"
"Yeah," she admitted. "Ed, you’re the first person I’ve ever taken to my apartment. Like I said, I must really trust you for some insane reason." She managed a smile at that.
"I’m just Mr. Trustworthy," I joked.
"Yeah. Anyhow, yeah, I didn’t want anyone to know, so I avoided contact. Plus, remember Monday? Remember how I almost took your head off?" I nodded. "There’s a time bomb inside me waiting to explode, I know that. That’s the other reason I find it hard to get close."
"Well, you’ve got friends now. Me, and my cronies. Amanda thinks you’re sweet."
"I know," she smiled. "It’s made more of a difference than I ever imagined."
"I’m glad about that," I said. "Unfortunately, look at the time. We need to go up there and get nekkid."
"Yeah," she laughed. "Oh, well. Two down, three to go."
"Days?"
"Yeah," she grinned.
"Is it any better?" I asked her.
"You know what? Yeah, it is," she admitted. "Not good, mind you, but better."
We headed towards the school. And, as I watched her throughout the day, I realized-it was better. The only thing that wasn’t better was the touching thing-and that worried me. But the rest was definitely better. We all ate lunch with her, and she really was loosening up. Look, sometimes it’s simple. She made some friends. We took her out and she had fun. I took her home to see a great movie, and she had fun. Then I let her unburden herself on me. Sometimes little things make a difference.
I was glad, I really was. I liked this girl. That thought scared the living daylights out of me, but that wasn’t important right now. I could deal with that when the time came.
But, still, there was the touching thing. It was painful to watch, every time. I don’t know how someone can be so out of touch with their body. As I said, Ellie Kirkland is a psychologist, and she’s got some definite ideas about sexuality, including teenage sexuality, all of which I agree with. And "be in touch with your body" is one of her favorite maxims. Another one is that if you’ve had a bad experience, or bad experiences, you need a good one-and as soon as possible. The longer you wait, the more the damage festers. Natalie had some serious damage festering. Ellie says that a good touch can do a whole hell of a lot to mitigate a bad one.
That’s when I got an idea. It was insane. It was ridiculous. It was potentially dangerous, for her and for me. But if I did it right…
I had to try something. I just had to.
So, after school, I approached her.
CHAPTER TEN NATALIEI wasn’t lying to Ed. It was better. I was actually adjusting to being nude. Unbelievable.