First Time

14

EMILY

"Emily don't play with your food," dad grunts for the third time.

His deep glare warns me that he does not want to have to tell me again.

"If you're not hungry, you can just leave it," mum adds more sympathetically.

"Why would she not be hungry? What's wrong?" dad turns to me with concern.

"I'm fine," I sigh and take a mouthful to prove my point.

Dad watches me curiously.

"So," mum begins, to take the spotlight off me, "I have a new patient at the surgery. Young girl, maybe just a bit younger than Emily. Oh, the poor soul. She's been through so much. But trying to get anything out of her is so hard. She's completely closed up."

"What happened to her?" dad asks.

"Well, I can't disclose obviously but, she's been through a lot in her young life. When I read her file, it broke my heart. She's been through every teenage girl's mother's worst nightmare. It's no wonder she is the way she is. I just don't know how I'm going to be able to get through to her."

"And what about her parents? Where are they in all this?"

"Well, I haven't met the parents but from what the file says and what I can deduct, it seems like they couldn't care less about her or what happened to her. I'm still trying to get her to open up about her parents, but she doesn't want to talk about them at all."

"Poor thing. Some people don't deserve to be parents," dad shakes his head in disapproval, then turning to me, "You should thank God for the parents you do have Emily. Parents who love and care about you very much. Even if we seem harsh at times, it's because we love you and we want to protect you."

"I know," I say, looking down at my plate. A pang of guilt prods me in my stomach.

"We don't want you to end up like some of the poor girls out there that get abused or pregnant at 16. God forbid," he says with disgust.

I really could do without this conversation. Especially when my mind is engulfed by sinful thoughts of Aiden.

"Anyway," mum breaks the awkward silence, "I just need some ideas for how I can get her to open up."

"Well, you have a teenage daughter right here, practice on her," dad says frankly.

The phone rings in the living room. Mum and dad scrape their chairs back in unison.

"It's ok, I'll get it," dad offers and bounds out of the room.

"So," mum says, full of concern, "What's going on love?"

"Nothing," I reply pushing a broccoli stem to the edge of the plate.

Mum leans across the table and places a hand on mine.

"I'm not your therapist, I'm your mum. I know when something is wrong with you."

She's right. Something is wrong. I feel agitated and I don't know why. Seeing Aiden so angry scared me. Seeing another girl in his arms crushed me. I want to call him and demand an explanation. At the same time, I want to never speak to him again. But I know I could never let him go. I wish he could take the initiative to call me and apologise for his behaviour. To assure me that everything is ok and that he still cared about me. My feelings have never been so tangled in a complicated web.

"I'm fine," I sigh, "I'm just tired."

"Have you been taking your medication?" she asks full of concern as she stills my shaking hands.