We drove the country roads with the radio blaring and the wind cooling us off from the day’s heat. I decided I didn’t like Lonnie much. Something about him seemed dirty and sleazy. But I was having fun talking to Barbara and Ronnie and drinking beer and smoking cigarettes and driving in the dark country.
Eventually, Lonnie stopped the car and we just sat there talking and enjoying the evening. At some point, he tried to put his fingers up inside my short shorts. I didn’t push his hand away; I just let him do it. I knew that Barbara could probably see what he was doing but that didn’t make me stop him, even though I felt ashamed. I hadn’t even let Richard touch me but here I was letting a total stranger touch me in this forbidden way. There was something about him being sleazy and me not liking him that made him touching me all the more exciting.
I never saw Barbara again after that night. I don’t know why—maybe because I was so ashamed, or maybe because she felt betrayed by me. I think it was the latter. I imagine she had come to me for some respite from the promiscuity of her sisters, and here I’d exhibited that same behavior right in front of her. I lost track of her after that. I imagine she followed in her sisters’ footsteps.
Barbara Anderson was the first of many females in my life who latched onto me for comfort. Perhaps it was the fact that there was a motherly quality to me, partly because I looked and acted so much older than I was, and partly because I was developing a desire to help those who were in trouble. The problem was I usually couldn’t help these people any more than I could help myself. And I usually ended up disappointing them in some way. Of course, this is what happens when someone puts you on a pedestal, as Barbara and so many others did with me over the course of my young life, but I was too young to understand that. Instead, I just ended up feeling guilty that I had once again let someone down.
chapter 22
I met Harvey shortly after the Lonnie experience. I wasn’t aware of it then, but I was on a downward spiral. Harvey was also much older than me—in his early twenties. And like Barbara Anderson’s sisters, his reputation preceded him. People said he liked to go out with virgins and take their virginity from them.
I don’t know how I met Harvey or who he ran around with, but I played hooky from school one day and a bunch of people came to my house. We were all smoking and drinking and I noticed Harvey was flirting with me. He looked at me as if he was undressing me and it made me feel nervous, but in kind of a good way. He wasn’t good-looking—he was tall and gangly—but he had that bad boy quality I liked, with long sideburns and a tight T-shirt. He felt as dangerous as people said he was. When he asked me to go on a date with him, I was thrilled.
Even though I’d been hanging out with Richard and Ronnie and lots of other guys, my mother didn’t know anything about them. She never asked me where I was going. This was the first time a guy was going to come to my house to take me out, so I asked my mother for permission to go on a date.
She said no at first—said twelve years old was too young to date. But eventually she agreed. I imagine I must have hounded her until she gave in. She insisted that she had to meet him first, though.
As the time came closer for Harvey to pick me up, I got more and more nervous and started pacing. Surely my mother wouldn’t let me go out with him once she saw how old he was. But I was in luck. About thirty minutes before Harvey was due to arrive, my mother announced that she was running out to the store for more beer.
“But don’t you leave this house until I get back,” she said. “I want to meet this guy.”
“Okay, Momma,” I promised, playing my “good girl” act.
But then Harvey ended up coming early and I slipped off with him before she got back. I knew I’d probably get into trouble for disobeying her, but I took my chances.
There was another couple in Harvey’s car, so I felt comfortable enough. We drove out into the country, sipping beer and listening to music. It seemed like any other night, except that when we stopped at a farmhouse, the other couple went inside and Harvey suggested we stay in the car. I agreed; I was thinking we’d make out like I had with Richard.
But Harvey was no Richard. He didn’t kiss me very long at all before he got all worked up. He started grabbing my breasts right away. I pushed his hands away but he didn’t stop the way Richard had, he just became more insistent.
“Let’s go into the backseat,” he said between gasps of breath.
“No, I don’t want to,” I said firmly.
“Come on,” he insisted.
I was starting to get scared. I didn’t like his tone or the fact that he was holding me so tight.
“I want to go home,” I said in my strongest voice.
He laughed cruelly. “We ain’t goin’ nowhere. My friends are going to be in there for a long time. I’m going to pop your cherry tonight, little girl.”
Now I was terrified. I tried to pull away from him but he had a firm hold on my left shoulder. With his
