FRIDA' S LIST

Chapter 11 PRESSURE

Chapter 11 The pressure

The next morning, I headed to the church. As my mother had sat up an appointment for me, I had to meet Father John. It was a though day. And all I can say is that it was one of the most embarrassing moments in my whole life. I used to go to the church every Sunday when I was younger, but since I turned 15, I used to go once a month as my mother insisted me to do so. I sat on one of the old wooden benches waiting for Father John. They were delightfully hard as usual. Father John was new at our church, but all I can say is that he was TOTALLY made for the job. He was a real turnoff. So that was the plan: talking with another virgin about sex! What a great idea! Thank you, Mom! When I saw him walking in, I had the feeling that we were part of something, some secret rotten club called: Desperate Virgins Society.

"So Frida, I talked to your mother," he began gravely.

I nodded silently and listened to him in awe because somehow he worked for God and I didn't want to get any trouble in my life.

"So, you want to have sex," he said very cool.

When he said the forbidden word, I felt a thrill running down my shine. I felt like a real pervert. He was probably judging me behind his big glasses.

"Not really, my mother's kinda worried about it," I mumbled, flushing.

He sighed loudly and looked down at my feet.

"Hmm. Sex is blessed (I looked up at him, he looked me in the eye)...when you're married," he added, "and with your husband. Otherwise, it's a sin, just a sin. Take a look at the Bible, the Genesis Chapter 19. Don't let the devil win. And do you know what you're supposed to do when you feel weak?"

I kept watching him dumbly.

"Pray. You should pray every time you feel this ...appetite," he replied to himself, clearing his throat.

I swear to God when he talked about sex, he gave me the creeps. I nodded, and then he talked over and over again. It was a kind of monologue. The words were pouring from his mouth as if he had opened the dam that he had kept closed for so long. Sometimes, as if he remembered that he wasn't alone, he asked me something, and without waiting for my answer, he continued. I had this strange feeling as if my life weren't really mine. I was there without really knowing why. And I felt this burning thrill invading my chest, and my blood pounding in my temples. I wanted to yell in his face that I didn't care about his opinion. Who the hell was he to tell me what to do? But I nodded at his every word instead. I gave him all the stuff that he was dying to hear. I'm not ready for sex. I'll pray...And it worked pretty well. He smiled satisfied. And finally, when I left the church, I walked down the street thinking of what the priest had said to me. Was I really gonna rot in hell if I had sex without being married? Once home, I found my mother watching TV in the living room.

"Hey," I said.

"Hello, honey. How was your day?"

"Good. I saw Father John."

"So?"

"You're right. He's good at it."

"Good. Come over here," she said. "I've got something for you."

"What?" I grimaced.

"Open it," she said, handing me an envelope.

"Summer program?" I read aloud.

"Yes. You'll be well prepared for your new school. Check out the syllabus."

"Did you pay for this?"