I fell in love with him in that moment and breathed it in.
“What are you doing?”
“Making a memory.” Then I taught him what my mom taught me. He made a memory, too. Together we remembered everything about each other—the room, the feelings we gave one another. I thought it was perfect. It would have been if he wasn't a lying, cheating jerk, but in that moment, I couldn't see how he was all the things Theo accused him of being.
As we dressed, he looked at me for the first time without desire or satisfaction. I thought it might be love, but he didn't say it.
And that's how we got together. Luckily I wasn't a hit it and quit it but he never acted like he was madly in love with me either. I imagined our kids asking how we got together, what would I tell them: “We hooked up one night and decided to be together after that.”—How romantic. It depressed me, but I wanted to make it work because he was my first and that counted for something to me. Theo and Brett knew as soon as they saw us together at the mall. I was wearing Cole's jacket but I gave it back; my parents could not know I was dating anyone. The secret was out with the brothers, though, and Theo lectured me the whole way home about how stupid I was. We fought about them telling on me, but in the end, sibling code won out and they kept my secret.
Two months later, Cole finally met my parents.
I told him about needing permission to date so we lied and pretended to have our first date the week after I turned sixteen. That was kind of fun. It felt like I was putting something over on my parents. He came to the house; they let him in and sat him down on the couch. I sat close but not right next to him. Dad asked him what his grades were like, what he wanted to be when he was finished with school, how we met. Cole charmed his way through all the answers the way he charmed his way through everything. “Sir, please. I know you don't know me, I know you don't have to give us permission, but I really like Tatum,” he said, looking over at me. “She's beautiful, but she's cool, too. I've never met a girl who loves baseball as much as me, sir. I want to get to know her better.” Then he turned the charm up. “I want to get to know you better. I mean, for Tatum to be as amazing as she is, she's gotta have pretty cool parents. Mine work way too much. I've seen you,” he said, pointing to my mom, “at every game. And you,” he said, looking at my dad, “at a lot of them. Mine are hardly ever there. They're proud of me but they work crazy hours and me and my stepdad don't get along at all. I don't know; it would kind of be nice to know you're all there cheering for me as much as for Theo.” I saw my mom falling for it; she was a sucker for kids who didn't have parents in the bleachers. She was sold. My dad was not as easy. He stood up, still in his fatigues, arms crossed, and looked down at Cole, every inch of him saying he was bigger, stronger, and meaner than Cole ever would be ... and then he extended his hand to Cole.
“You treat her right—you hear me?”
Cole and I both grinned way too big. I wanted to jump on him and hug him right then and there, but I knew that was way too much since we were hiding the fact that we were already a couple.
Cole played me good and I was stupid enough to fall for it. He kept me around but never went out of his way to show me he cared. He was always flirting, too, always, and he made me feel bad for thinking it was rude. I started to feel like a mitt he could, and would, replace if I got too worn out or a better model came along. But I had to have him. I hated feeling so dependent and insecure. I was always looking for his favor, desperate for his approval and assurance that we were OK. I tried so hard to make him love me. I had a job at a fast food place on the weekends and spent way too much money on him: forty dollar video games, new pants, concert tickets. He appreciated the stuff but never reciprocated except for, like, flowers for our “monthiversaries,” and such. The only nice thing he ever got me was a heart-shaped locket for our six-month anniversary that July. I did what I could to convince myself it was a good relationship. I learned to play the video games with him, even though I would have rather been doing something in real life. I got into the TV shows he liked to watch and let him brush my hair out and massage my head while I sat between his legs; OK, that was nice. We tossed a ball back and forth and played backyard baseball sometimes, but it wasn't enough to make me feel his love. The smooth words that rolled off his tongue like honey, the sex—it wasn't enough—something was missing. I always felt like he loved me less than I loved him. I loved him big. I knew I would die without him, but despite the fact that he told me he loved me, I doubted him.
The other girls didn't help either. They were always there—lurking, waiting, wanting him, trying to break us up—and he dug it. We fought constantly about it. He said I was too jealous; I said he was cheating or at least flirting too much. We were both right. I started to question who I was, why I was with him, and why did I always feel like he paid a little too much attention to the other girls to be truly mine? Why did I love him so much? Why didn't he love me back? Was I just too jealous, and if I was, what about the rumors of him with other girls? I didn't make those up. He swore they were lies and I tried to believe him every time. Then we would make-up and make-out, have some kind of crazy make-up sex, but every time I felt a little weaker. I hated that I was becoming this weak, cheap, girl, believing lies that everyone else saw through. I started thinking that being the desperate girl that gets cheated on and takes him back was almost worse than being a one night stand. Our fights got even worse. My parents would send me outside when we argued on the phone because they didn't want my “drama” in their house. I would remind them it wasn't their house, it was the government's, and slam the screen door after me.
In August, after seven months of hearing us fight, Mom couldn't take it anymore and had a talk with me about my relationship with Cole. She took me out on a long drive. I was trapped. I couldn't go anywhere, I had to listen to her and she was going to talk boys and love and sex whether I wanted to hear it or not. I appreciate it now, but at the time I was mad and embarrassed, and couldn't believe what she was doing. I didn't want her in my business.
“You are growing up and able to make your own decisions about boys, but I can't keep my mouth shut any longer. Sweetie, I like Cole, I do. He's a nice kid, but he's got a lot of growing up to do and ... well, I'm honestly surprised that you put up with him. Seems like you're always fighting to me.”
“We're not always fighting.” I crossed my arms. I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of being right.
“Well, seems like it from what I see. You can't even go a week without crying on the phone because you don't think he loves you. I can't figure out why you put up with it. There are other fish in the sea, he's not the only one, and there are boys that will treat you so much better.”
“Really … ? I don't think so. Cole treats me fine.”
“Really? Why do you worry he's cheating on you? And what does that mean anyway?”
“Mom, stop. I'm not even going to talk to you about this.”
“I'm not even going to ask if you two are having sex. I hope to God you're not but if you are I don't want you lying about it because you know what answer I want ...”
“Oh, c'mon, Mom! You're saying you think we're sleeping together.”
“Don't 'c'mon, Mom' me. That's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is you're in a pretty involved relationship and I don't like what I see going on, and whether sex is or isn't part of the mix now, it has to be talked about.”
I sunk down in my seat and stared straight ahead. “Whatever!”
She was quiet for too long but after a while she started again. “You understand why it's a big deal don't you?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Mom, really?”
“Yes, really ... humor me.”
Silence. Miles.
“Dad's not expecting us for days. I am going to drive this car until we need gas or until you inject yourself into this conversation.”
“It's not a conversation. You're going to tell me how I should live my life
and that Cole's not good for me and be all in my business and I'm going to get pissed.”
“Yep, so the sooner you talk, the sooner it can be over with.”
“This sucks.”
“It doesn't have to.”
More silence.
Finally, after an hour of listening to nothing but her favorite country hits and the tires on the road, over bridges, over asphalt, over chip and seal, I gave up and answered. “Because it should be special, because you should wait until you're married, because you should love the person, because it complicates things, because you can get pregnant, because there's supposed to be just one person for you, because you can get diseases, because you can get a bad reputation, because you don't want to give yourself away to just anyone. Are we done?” I thought I covered about everything they had ever told me or school had.
She smiled in victory. It was the first and only time in my life I actually hated her. She won; then she made her point.
“All of that, but that's not it. There's more. You see, a woman is a mystery to a man. Men like to figure things out, see how they work, why they work. They like to fix things, put things together, and if they work, well, they like to make them better. They like puzzles to solve, and battles to win, and adventures to have,” she said with a flourish of her hand. “Women are the ultimate question to them and they'll spend their lives trying to figure us out. We're overly complicated; we have these feelings they don't get and bodies that are so different from theirs. They want to figure us out and they'll work hard to do it. And if you find the right guy, he'll spend the rest of his life trying to help you be the best woman you can be. You .. and no one else.” Then she looked at me and smiled. “And it's a woman's job to keep being a mystery to her man for the rest of her life. The trick is to find the right guy. Do you know how?”
I had no idea and said as much but looked out the window, pretending not to hear her.
“You hold out for sex. You're still young, just a girl. You're dealing with boys, not men. A good man will look at you as a whole person; not just a body ... but boys are horny little things. They're selfish and immature and inexperienced. They only have one question to answer. You know what that is?”
“No.,”
“Tatum, it's simple. All any boy wants to know is if you'll sleep with him. That's it. There's nothing else going on for them. If you don't … and they want you badly enough, they'll do whatever you want to get you. If you hold out and they don't stick around … well,” she shrugged, “they were never about you in the first place, just the sex. But ... if you do have sex with them, they've accomplished their mission. They win. They have conquered you. There's nothing more a boy wants to know, except maybe what other positions you might try with him.”
“Ewww, Mom! Stop!”
“You're sixteen; you already know this stuff; why should I avoid saying it out loud? It's the truth: boys are in it for the sex. No matter what they say, no matter how long they hold out, whether they love you or not ... it's all about sex to them. And if you give it up too early, they have nothing else about you to bother to learn and no reason to stay. More than likely once they've gotten what they want from you, they'll get tired and move on, unless there's more to the relationship. And more takes time. If you have sex too fast they'll never get to know you, and when the sex gets old, or a new girl comes along, they'll move on every time.”
“That's not true.”
“I wish it wasn't, but it is. Plain and simple, if they won't stick around if you won't have sex, they're not worth your time. You just have to get that through your head. No matter how much they beg you for it, if you give in before you get what you want, you lose.”
“That makes it sound like sex is all about power.”
“Yes and no. There's pleasure, too, and fun, and making babies.”
“Seriously?!” I asked, but I smiled too. She was making the best of it. I might as well do the same.
She laughed. It felt good in my ears, made things stop feeling so strained. Then she continued. “If they stick around, you better make it worth their time ... it's up to you to keep the mystery alive, keep them guessing and learning about what makes you tick.” She grinned and winked. “And you get to watch a boy grow into a man who cares about a little bit more than just sex. String them along; make them work for your love. A boy who is truly into you will do a lot to prove it. What's the harm in making him? Especially, if you're not giving anything away. You get to teach him that there's more to women than that first question. See, guys come in two versions: the lovers or the fighters. Both are good and both will move heaven and earth for the girl they love if they have a reason to.”
“What does that mean?”
“Give them a reason!”
She paused, waiting for me to say something. I had nothing. I was pretty sure sex was the only reason Cole was sticking around, and I wasn't telling her how many positions we had already tried and that it was starting to get routine, which, according to her, meant he was probably getting tired of me and it was just a matter of time before he left me.
She sighed and continued. “If you're anything like me, you fall in love easily.” I looked over at her and saw a wistful expression I'd worn myself. She had memories on her shelf, too, memories of … not my dad. She had loved others. “You'll stay in love unless all hope is lost. Any boy ... any man will do as long as he treats you halfway decent, and you'll give your love away over and over to try to get his love in return. But that's not how it is for guys, even the lovers. Boys don't fall in love easily ... not most of them. You have to earn their love and respect and you earn it by holding out for sex.”
I realized then that that's what I wanted from Cole. He said he loved me, but I knew he didn't mean it. I hoped he cared, that it wasn't all about sex, but I wasn't sure. I gave him so much of me, for so long. I wasted time and money and emotion on that boy hoping he would come around to really love me. And now my mom was telling me how I had to hold out on sex to get him to love me. I couldn't ask her if it worked retroactively so I asked the next best thing I could come up with, “How long do you hold out?”
“Here's where I say ...” She turned to me, looking the slightest bit stern, and said, “Until you're married.”
“That's so old fashioned.”
“No, it's not.”
“Well, what if you can't wait that long; how long then?”
She sighed again. “I can't give you a different answer; it's the one I think is best. If you want a man to love you for your whole life, if you want to be sure, you hold out until there's a ring on your finger. If he's not willing to work for you for that long, he's not worth it, and you're not worth it to him. It's simple and it's the hardest thing you'll ever have to do. You have to be a worthy challenge. You give them something to work for. Show him you're worth his time and energy and love and respect. Make him work for you. Make sure he really does love you before you have sex, not the other way around. Cole wants you. I see it in the way he looks at you. If you give in, he's won; there won't be much else he'll care to learn about you. He'll have the answers to everything a boy wants to know about a girl. Grow him up, Tatum. Make him a man. Don't entertain him until he earns your attention. Don't let him take advantage of you.”
“He's not like that.” He was exactly like that.
“I don't know him and what he's like, but I know you. I don't like the fighting and tears; that's not my girl. That's not you. That's desperation, and you don't need a boy that makes you feel desperate for affection. You need a boy who will pine for you and treat you like the princess you are.”
“I don't need your help with my relationship.”
“Fair enough. I'll just say one more thing, and then we can be done if you want. Sweetie, you are worth a boy working for. You are worth a boy climbing Mt. Everest, crossing the ocean, or building a castle to declare his love. You know, there's a man somewhere that did that? I think it was Florida ... he built a whole castle of rock, by hand, for th
e woman he loved. They'll do that—the right guy will love you that much. And you are worth it. And if Cole won't give it to you, don't settle for less because he's popular or cute or whatever is keeping you with him. If he thinks you're worth it, he will do whatever you say to be with you. Trust me: the right guy will stick around as long as it takes.
“That's mean.”
“Why?”
“It's leading them on.”
“Is it? So you should be with every boy that says he likes you?”
“No, but … you can't make a guy climb Mt. Everest to prove his love for you.”
“Why not?!” she asked with a devilish laugh. “How else do you know he'll really be there for you when you need him? How else does he know? It's a favor to them, too. They'll say anything to get you to sleep with them. You can't listen to what they say; you have to watch what they do.”
“You make it sound like it's all about sex.”
“It is!” She smiled and reached over to pat my hand. “At this age, trust me; it is all about sex for the boys.” I knew that; I was living it. Cole would say anything when he wanted me, but maybe my mom was right—he already won me, but I didn't want her to know, so I flipped it back to her.
“How do you know?”
Catching Tatum Page 5
