During the time that everyone thought I was dating the transgender boy at our school, I started spending more time with Vanessa. Maybe the excess teasing from others made her take pity on me, or maybe she really did like me, but almost everyday after school I’d bike over to her place, passing by Becky’s on the way. Subconsciously, I may have been looking for any excuse to see Becky and riding through her neighborhood definitely upped my chances.
On the way over one day, I heard Vanessa shouting to a group of boys and girls from our class, “I’m not a slut! I’m polyamorous! It’s not my fault my heart is too damn big to love just one man.”
“You have sucked every cock at school!”
“Yeah, and? You should be thanking me. I can give you a detailed review and save you a lot of trouble.”
“Go lick a geriatrics anus!” She yelled back before slamming her door on them.
I decided to go through the back to her place to avoid adding fuel to their fire. Vanessa did get around, but she was also one of the coolest girls in school. She was truly her own person and didn’t give a damn what anyone thought about her. At least on the surface that’s how it seemed. The past couple years at high school had taught me that masks were part of the school uniform. Still, whatever mask Vanessa was wearing it was catching. Everything she did and said became a trend. When she went on her green food only diet everyone followed, snubbing their nose at any other color of the rainbow. I even remember Travis getting caught up in the trend, which wasn’t really like him. He never paid much attention to trends and neither did I. We were often the uncool rejects of the school. When Vanessa came back from Paris and was imitating French for a week, everyone was imitating her, using French words and phrases. Whatever Vanessa did everyone wanted in on. She just had a way of making life look so simple, logical, and cool–like it was a no-brainer that you’d only eat pommes vertes. Naturally, all her addictive cool and sex was starting to cloud my judgement and I had thought that maybe her and I might form a proper attachment, or at least she’d let me take her to prom. But now I was learning she was poly-amorous or something and I didn’t know what that was but if it came from Vanessa everyone would soon be doing it. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
I leaned my bike against her garage and grabbed a couple small pebbles to throw at her bedroom window, which faced the alley I was standing in. The window however was open and I heard her yell OW! before looking out to see who was chucking pebbles at her.
“The backdoor is open, just come in.” She said, a little cross. Vanessa’s parents were rarely home. They owned two restaurants and a taxi service, all of which kept them busy day and night so her and her brother–when he was still living at home–were free to do whatever they wanted. This made her the envy of the school and made her place the best place to have a party when her parents were away, which was often. Her brother had taken his graduation money and decided to try living the nomadic traveler’s life for a while. Apparently, he was still doing that in Alaska where he claimed he was “finding himself.”
Vanessa’s brother would often send her gifts from the places he traveled. Her room was a museum of trinkets, postcards and cultural souvenirs from all over the world. As I entered the room, I found her putting on a pair of whale shaped baleen earrings that her brother had sent her from Alaska. She flipped her long brown hair back and posed by the window, asking me how they looked.
“Very nice,” I replied, taking her in. Jane may have had the boobs, but Vanessa’s body was a perfectly portioned work of art. It was almost a blessing that she enjoyed sharing it because she had the kind of body that you wanted to touch, constantly. She was one of the great beauties of her time. No one knew what her origins were, since she was adopted but she was a mix of probably everything under the sun. Her Persian looking eyes were hypnotic and her perfectly sculpted ass was a treasure to cup in one’s hands. She claimed she didn’t work out but her toned legs and abs said otherwise. She was physically perfect. But her beauty didn’t stop at her looks. She also had depth. You could sit with her for at least a good hour talking about anything because she seemed to be a well of knowledge. It was no wonder that guys and girls were infatuated by her.
I told myself I should let Becky be and focus on someone that was more within reach. But what was poly-amorous? I thought out loud.
“I don’t believe in restricting my love to just one person.” She replied as she unfastened her bra.
“Oh, but what about if you have a boyfriend?” I asked as I helped her undo her jean skirt.
“I would never have just one boyfriend.” She answered as she kissed me.
I stopped her in the middle of a kiss and looked at her serious.
She sighed, “I don’t believe in monogamy. You know, living with one person for the rest of your dull life until you’re so sick of them you plot killing them in their sleep. Humans weren’t made to be tied down to one person.”
“My grandparents have been married for almost 60 years.”
“And they probably hated it or they’ve both had lovers on the side. At least with polyamory everyone knows what’s going on and is ok with it.”
“So, if you were married you’d still sleep around?” I asked suddenly turned off.
“I don’t like they way you’ve phrased that, Kevin Craft. If you’re asking if I plan to be my own woman and love who I want when I want despite the social constraints that society has tried to put on women’s sexual activities then the answer is yes. ”
“No, I think what I’m asking is if you plan to cheat on your boyfriends or husband?”
“Of course not! My future husband and I would both be poly-amorous and respect each others choices. You know there are men that have multiple wives.”
“Yeah I know and I don’t particularly agree with it.”
Fooling around was one thing; when you weren’t attached and just wanted to have some fun, but being married and sleeping with other people seemed to taint the whole idea of being committed. Or maybe Vanessa was just too new age for me. Perhaps I was stuck in the old traditions of one girl for one boy.
“I can’t believe you’re so judgmental Kevin Craft. Besides, you’ve known this whole time that I’ve been having sex with dozens of other guys.”
“Dozens!” My eyes widened. She must be exaggerating.
“Sure, some of the guys in our history class and a few on the football team.”
“There’s like 16 guys in our history class!”
I knew full well that Vanessa was not a one man woman. I knew this. But somehow, having feelings for her suddenly changed my acceptance of it. I did not like the idea of that perfect ass being handled by every guy in school.
“Kevin Craft, we’re not exclusive.”
“And you’re never going to be exclusive with anyone.”
That was the last time I went to Vanessa’s. It wasn’t so much the fact that she was poly-amorous. It was the fact that I wasn’t. Blame it on my upbringing, or falling prey to social expectations but I did believe in monogamy. I didn’t want more than one girlfriend and I wouldn’t want a girl that wanted more than one guy.
The shit part about it all was I was actually starting to like Vanessa and without her as a distraction my thoughts trailed back to Becky who was more out of bounds than Vanessa. Thankfully, a month later I became acquainted with a new girl.