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15. Herstory

I could not talk to Stephen about his father and me. There was not even a 'Mr. James and Stella'. That was just plain weird.

It was weird, but it felt good. Bodywise.

Anyway. Mr. James left my room after our 'heated' conversation. Heated because of the heat. Get it? Ha.

Stephen and I spent a lot of time together. He said that we were becoming buddies. He was fun to be around. In my life I had never really laughed until Stephen taught me to.

At night, I would think about my mother. What was she doing? Had they forced her, or had she been sent to a nice person like Stephen? In the protocol it said that I was not allowed any contact to other working agency women. The danger was too high that we would plot against the agency.

I liked my life in the James house. There was endless food, fine furniture, entertainment and electronical devices I had never heard of before, but I missed the simplicity of my home. It was just a tiny place with two rooms, however it held memories of my mother and my childhood.

I thought back to my childhood all the time.

It had always been my mother and me. When she left, I was taken care of by my school. They did not 'care' much about me though. The school assisted the pretty girls, the barbies, the ones with the natural charisma. The sassy, big-boned, unmotivated girls were always left aside.

The barbies and I tolerated each other. I mean we were both stuck in the same fate, it was just that they did not really see it as a 'bad fate'.

I hated aging. It meant I was getting closer to 18, and the age of unwanted pregnancies. The barbies were all making a big deal out of their birthdays, and they counted down every day.

They wanted to look their best for the future men who would im.pregnate them. Even though they would only be a temporary part of their life.

On the other side, I did not watch out for my figure. I did not want to see my bones, so I swayed somewhere around normal. I had what they would call 'fat' and I was not ashamed. If I was going to be the agency's sl.ut, I would at least get to do it my way.

The teachers always hated the looks I gave them while they talked. When they asked me about something, I just gave them a sassy reply, but only when my mother was not around. You could not reach the working women while they were on the good side of the fence. They would not hurt her if she was not around. The only way to get to working women was if the rich clients filed complaints.

I knew no matter how much I resisted Mr. James, he would not file a complaint about me. Stephen would never complain about me either. Trust me, I gave them reason to. They continuously reminded me of that. I talked back, I hung around them a lot, and I interfered with their family life. Plus, I refused Mr. James even though I was absolutely sure that I was curious about how his intimate touch would feel.

But Stephen and Mr. James found that amusing about me. They liked how unconventional I was.

After the first two months with them, I felt safer than ever. I was doing my job of being 'pregnant', it made me sick, but I was okay with the James family.

Mr. James let me sleep when I felt tired of doing absolutely nothing, ordered certain foods for me that I desperately wanted to eat, and understood that something called 'morning sickness' really existed. I watched a lot of movies with Stephen and found it very easy to laugh maniacally and cry hysterically.

I had been prepared for all the symptoms. They taught us about them in school.

What they did not tell us about was the attracting Mr. James-type-of-guys (MEN!) of the world because he, completely caught off guard.