Can’t help it. As soon as we get home, I close myself in my bedroom and look for them. Yup. The box of condoms still rests in the back of my underwear drawer, where I jammed it the day Dad gave it to me.
It occurs to me that maybe gifting these to me was his way of saying it’s okay to go against the grain. Abstinence is difficult, or something like that, is what he said.
But I don’t really think he meant it’s okay. It’s probably more like how he can talk about the effects of alcohol or drugs on the human body and expect me to take that as even more reason not to mess with them. The effect that’s good is outweighed by all the effects that are bad, so abstinence is being smart about it. If you’re strong enough to resist.
Temptation is all around us, remember.
The voice in my head is not Dad. Or Mom. Or Pastor Carle, or even Sheila.
“Kissing doesn’t count,” I say out loud. “I swear, it doesn’t.”