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My name is Hailey. Looking in the mirror, I try to assess myself unbiased. I have mousy brown hair that falls just past my shoulder blades. I never can get it to do anything other than fall in front of my face despite all my effort to brush it back and out of the way. I have pale skin. I suppose I should get outside more, but I like the indoors too much besides its winter in Spokane, WA with snow on the ground. I just got new glasses, one of the “new me” purchases after I got my braces off this past summer. They do seem to bring out my blue eyes—just like the cute optometrist said. The freckles that were so prominent on and around my nose seem to get fainter the older I get. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. I have never really liked my body. I tend to wear clothes a size or two larger to hide in. Opening my eyes, I look at my body in the mirror. I am 5’5″ and have no body shape, unless you think “skin and bones” is a body type. Shaking my head, I remind myself unbiased opinion. I look again. I am 32-23-33, I suppose you’d call it waifish. Before you ask, no, I don’t have an eating disorder, I just don’t gain weight. I try on a smile. My smile slowly fades. All that money to straighten my teeth and all I have to show for it is a lackluster smile. I turn to the side and look at my body in profile. I have small breasts, bigger than an A but not quite a B. (My sister would try to cheer me up by saying, “At least their bigger than Keira Knightley’s.” This coming from her and her perfect C cups, but we’ll get to my sister soon enough.) I turn slightly to assess my ass. I do have to, grudgingly admit I have a somewhat cute, tight heart-shaped ass. Overall, average. I am not going to be turning heads.
My sister, on the other hand, made boys and some girls get whiplash when she strolled down the high school corridors. She is a knockout with her hour-glass figure. She had guys lining up to ask her out. She never had a boyfriend, but she always had dates. “Why settle for just one boy,” she’d say, “that you probably won’t see after high school anyway, except reunions.” He golden tresses were kept shoulder length and had a bounce to them when she walked. She was about 5’7″ and 34-24-36 and, like I said earlier, perfect C cups. She had tone in her arms, legs and abs from cheerleading, but without losing her girlish softness. The only thing we seemed to share genetically were our blue eyes. Where she was outgoing, I kept to myself. I had the brains, she had the looks and the social life that went with it.
When I was 16, she moved to California for school. She could have gone to University of Washington or, as I had hoped, Washington State. She, however, opted to go somewhere it was sunny and warm. Her choices were Arizona State (She once confided in me, “I’d love to be a little sun Devil.” She had to explain that their mascot was the Sun Devil.), USC, UCLA or San Diego State. She ended up getting a partial scholarship to USC so in the end wound up there. She made a point to call me at least once a week and never forgot my birthday, even if she didn’t come up for it, but it wasn’t the same. Sure we had different social circles and on weekends she was rarely home, but Sunday nights were my favorite. We would be in the basement where our dad had built an entertainment room. We would watch some movie, eat a big bowl of popcorn and talk. It was our time and our parents left us alone during it.
My birthday falls in late September and a few days before this last one, my 18th, I got a text from my sister. She told me she sent a package to me and should be there soon. The next text really got my attention. She told me there were two gifts in the package and under NO circumstance should I let our parents see the larger one. I began wondering immediately what was it she got me. Looking back I should have realized, but then I had no idea. How naïve I was only a few months ago. Considering both of my parents worked and I got home earlier than they did, intercepting a package was pretty simple. After class the next day, it was sitting on the porch behind the bushes. I picked it up and carried it into the house. I put it on the kitchen counter and opened it up. Their was a sticky note affixed to the larger gift reiterating what Kaitlin’s text said. So I took it out of the package to carry it to my room, when I heard a dull thump on the ground. I bent down to see what had fallen—batteries. Alot of batteries. In fact a 36-pack of AA batteries. Why would I ever need 36 AA batteries?
After putting the batteries on the counter, I carried my gift to my room and put it on the bed. I took out my phone and sent a text to my sister.
< Hey. Package came. >
Almost immediately, Kaitlin texted back.
< Did you hide the gift? >
< Not yet. Just got to my room. >
< OK. Hurry. >
< Why so important? >
< You’ll see. Not before your birthday!!! Text me back then. >
< One other thing. >
< Yeah? >
< What’s with the batteries? >
< Shit. Forgot about those. Thought you may need them. >
< 36? For beşiktaş anal yapan escort what? >
< NVM. Just get them too. >
< OK. >
< Don’t forget. Txt me when you open this gift. <3 >
< <3 U2 >
After my texting with my sister I hid my gift in my closet, went downstairs to retrieve the batteries and toss the package in the trash can. I left the smaller “safe for parents” package on the counter. With batteries in hand, I was about to hide them too. Then I thought, why hide batteries? So I put them on my desk next to my monitor.
Two days later, was my birthday. I am not usually a morning person, except for a few days. One, Christmas morning. And two, my birthday. There is a third, but I didn’t yet know that. On my birthday, my dad fixes a big breakfast. It doesn’t matter what day of the week it is, this particular birthday fell on a Thursday, but I knew that breakfast was being fixed. The smell was wafting through the house. I was just lying there enjoying the smells, when BZZPT BZZPT went my phone. I rolled over to see what text I had.
< Get out of bed, sleepyhead. Open the gift. >
< Aww. Can’t I stay in bed a little longer? >
It was my birthday after all. Shouldn’t I do what I wanted? Except I did have to go to school.
< Hurry up. >
I stretched and rubbed my eyes. I was going to open her gift but I was going to at my pace not hers. I brought my gift to the bed and sat down Indian style with the package in my lap. I eagerly opened it up. I’d been dying to find out what the fuss was all about. Once I got it open, I looked at it curiously.
I ignored the phone as I was reading the package.
OH MY GOD! My sister got me a pink Rabbit vibrator. What in the hell was a Rabbit vibrator. It looked menacing with this weird side appendage. Then it clicked. The batteries! MY SISTER EXPECTS ME TO USE THIS THING! OH MY GOD! AND TO USE IT ENOUGH TO WARRANT 36-AA BATTERIES!
I finally left my haze to check my phone.
< Did you open it? >
< Well? >
< Hailey? >
What the hell do I say? Thanks? Why would my sister get me a sex toy? She is the only one who knows fully about my sex life or rather the lack thereof.
My freshman and sophomore years were uneventful. My sister was my protector. Being the Queen Bee, I was strictly to be left alone from any torment. While that didn’t extend to me getting in with the popular kids, it did let me just go through my day relatively unnoticed. I made friends of my own. Not really friends, but rather kindred spirits that didn’t fit in with high school hierarchy. While the cool kids went to parties and dances and football games (I did go to the games only because my sister insisted I do something school related and she was a cheerleader.), we were in a basement playing board games and at times pen-and-paper games. You know, like Dungeons and Dragons. It was fun pretending to be something other than yourself. I really got into cyberpunk games. It felt like our world but not.
Then junior year happened. With my protector fleeing to California, I was left alone. No not alone like before; alone as in had no one looking after me. My classmates figured I was fair game for not getting the freshman hazings they endured. So I got it. And not just from my class, but all classes. Hell even some freshmen started teasing me. I walked with a quicker pace, head buried a little lower. Then one day, I thought I saw a ray of sunshine break through from the gloom this past year had been. A boy asked me out to prom. This is the first year I could go to prom. Only juniors and seniors can go, unless a junior or senior asks a lower-classman to prom, which my sister went to all four proms she was in school for.
I was ecstatic. That weekend my mom and I went shopping and got the perfect dress and shoes to go with it. It actually made me look, dare I admit it?, attractive. At least I thought so, despite my insecurities and my braces. The night of prom I get a phone call. It’s the boy.
Coughcough. “Hailey?” Cough. “I’m sorry but I came down with something.” Coughcough. (I hear what sounds like snickers in the background.) “I was really hoping it would pass, but it hasn’t.” Cough. (I am slowly losing the fight to curl up and bawl my eyes out.) “I’m really sorry I can’t take you to prom.” Coughcough. (There is no mistake now I definitely hear laughter. This was all done just to pick on me even more.)
I mumble something like, “Hope you get better.” (The laughter was even louder. I must be on speaker phone.) I hang up. Dejectedly, I strip out of my prom wear and back into my pajamas. When I get to the living room, I sit down on the couch next to my dad.
“Isn’t prom tonight, princess?” (He always calls me that when he thinks I need a pick me up. Tonight he’s right, I do.) I just nod. “Not going?” I shake my head, but say nothing beşiktaş bdsm escort in fear I will finally break down in tears. “What about your date?” He puts his arm around my shoulder. I put my head on his chest and he wraps his arm around me.
I sit like that for a little while hoping my urge to cry abates. “He’s sick.” Is all I manage to say. I don’t have the heart to tell my parents that no boy wants to date their lesser daughter. We sit like that for a while watching some sports thing on ESPN. Finally, I kiss my dad on the cheek and let him know I’m going to my room.
< How’s my fave sis? I wanna see you all glammed up. Send me pic. >
Great someone else to talk to. At least it’s texts.
< Not going. >
< WHAT! Why not? >
< He’s sick. >
< Really? >
I have never been able to lie to my sister even from a distance even through text messages.
< No. >
There were no texts for a while, which is odd. My sister can manage multiple text messages without the other side noticing a change in the speed in which she responds. Yet, now nothing.
My ring tone goes off. Kaitlin is calling me.
“Hey.” I really didn’t want to talk.
“You okay?” she asks.
I shrug my shoulders like she can see me, but I don’t respond. There’s a silence.
“You know he’s not sick?”
“There was laughter in the background.”
“Oh.” She gets it. She may never have experienced it, but she gets it. She knows I want to cry. She knows I don’t want to talk. So we sit there on the phone neither of us talking. I never felt closer to my sister than right then. After a minute or two, she says, “You’re going to be okay.”
“No, sweetie. I am not asking you. I am telling you. You WILL be okay.” I sniffed derisively at this statement. “There will be someone who will see you as beautiful and show you how special you really are. And they will treat you like I know you deserve to be.”
There was more silence. Maybe she didn’t know what else to say. She’d never been in this situation. She didn’t know how to cope and thus not know how to bring someone out of this funk. Or maybe she wanted it to sink in. So the last thing she said was going over my mind on repeat.
Finally, she broke the silence, “Sweetie, I have to get going. But call me if you ever need to talk. Or not. I love you.”
Sniffling, “I love you too.” Then, we hung up.
I still have that dress and shoes—a constant reminder of the misery of high school. (I had tried to return the items I had never really gotten to wear the following morning, but the sales associate pointed to a sign that read “No Returns on Prom Dresses.” Apparently, girls had been returning prom dresses the day after prom so they weren’t stuck with dresses they would wear once. And now I was stuck with a dress I never got to wear.) I decided after that night I was going to emulate my sister and leave the state when I graduate. I was looking at Brown, Stanford and UC-Berkley. Prestigious colleges that my tormentors had no chance to get into academically.
Now here I was. In my bed on my 18th birthday, a vibrator in hand given to me by my sister. I am sexually inexperienced. I had the sex talk with my parents at 11. They figured they would just give the sex talk once. So when Kaitlin turned 13 and started to develop, I got the talk too. They must have thought since I was so book smart that I would just absorb what they said and understand and use it when I was older and going through my changes. And I did. I just never got to utilize my knowledge. With my mother being religious, (she wasn’t overly religious, but there were a few things that would grate on her like swearing, drinking and sex) I hadn’t even masturbated. I didn’t have any real girl friends to confide in. I couldn’t really ask my sister, could I? And God forbid I go to my mom for guidance on self-pleasure.
< Hailey? Srsly! Answer me. Is everything ok? >
Sighing I finally picked up the phone.
< WTH A vibrator?!? >
< Yeah. So? Do you like it? >
< OMG >
< That good? Or bad? >
< Mom would kill me if she found it! >
< That’s why I said to hide it. >
< Ugh. >
< It’s not that bad. Just keep it. And keep it hidden. >
< Why? >
< Mom would kill you and disown me. >
< Not what I meant. >
< I know. Thought you needed…to relieve from stress. >
< Gross. >
< LOL <3 >
< <3 U2. >
< Happy bday, sweetie. >
Knock knock knock. “Princess breakfast is ready!”
< Thnx >
“Be right there, dad.” I said loud enough to be heard through my closed door. Getting up off the bed, I started looking for a place to stash my new sex toy. It ended up being a drawer for my underwear. I tend to do the laundry for the house, except for my parents’ underwear, beşiktaş elit escort so my parents don’t have reason to go through my drawers. Really, I could put the vibrator anywhere that was out of sight and in my room. As far as my parents were concerned, I never did anything to warrant them coming into my room without permission. Luckily I hadn’t taken the vibrator out of the box, so it was just the wrapping paper I had to discard. I decided for the time to just toss it in my desk side trashcan.
Getting downstairs, I was greeted by my mom and dad and a birthday hug from mom. My dad tried to give me my birthday spankings.
“Charles, she’s an adult now. Can’t you let it go, finally?”
“She’s still and always will be, my baby girl.” What would he say if he found out his baby girl had an adult sex toy in her room? “But fine. Happy birthday, Hailey.”
“Thanks,” I said, sitting down at my customary spot at the breakfast table. “What’s for breakfast?”
I was answered by two plates placed in front of me. On one was hashbrown casserole (shredded hashbrowns with cheese and some herbs and onions) topped with two fried eggs over easy (because I love having the yolk just ooze out when I cut into them). On the other were two biscuits covered in sausage gravy, sausage links and bacon. I also had a tall glass of orange juice. My dad loves breakfast and when he cooks he doesn’t cook for our size family. He cooks for an army.
I cleaned my plates and still had a few more strips of bacon and a couple more links, like I said I don’t have an eating disorder. My mom shaking her head in disbelief of how much I ate asked, “so did you want to open your sister’s gift before school?”
I nearly spewed my orange juice all over her. How did she know about the present? I was sure I hid the traces of its discovery. I slowly recovered when I stammered, “What?”
“Your sister’s present,” she reiterated. “It’s been sitting on the counter for two days now.” She pointed at the small package I had somehow completely forgot about. “I know we don’t usually let you open your presents until after dinner, but I’m sure your sister would love to hear how much you liked her gift. She might not be able to take a phone call with her job working nights for you to thank her.”
My curiosity was again peaked. My sister really had given me two gifts. I wondered now which was my real gift. Was the vibrator just some kind of joke? Or was that the real gift and this one was given just so out parents’ didn’t suspect anything?
Dad had gotten up and retrieved the present while I was thinking through everything. Sometimes I wonder, do I over-analyze everything? I accepted the gift out of my dad’s proffered hand and began to unwrap it. It was a felt-like jewelry box. I was taken aback. Everyone who knows me knows I am not fond of jewelry and the person I thought knew me the best got me jewelry? I now knew which gift was the fake one. Silently, I groaned.
At least I thought it was silent until my mom said, “Just open it. I’m sure you’ll like it.”
So I opened the box, and sure enough it was jewelry. It was a gold and silver chain that twisted around each other with a push-release clasp. It also had a heat with a key hole in it in the middle of the chain. I picked it up to study it a bit closer, when a small piece of paper fell on the table.
Mom handed me the note. It read, “My dear sister, happy 18th birthday! I just want to say I know you don’t like jewelry, but I saw this at the store and just wanted you to have it. The look is so simple and elegant it just made me think of you. I am not sure what the heart means, but I like to think it means to hold on to your love and only open it for the right person. I know one day that person will come and whoever that person is will cherish your love. Love, always and forever, Kaitlin.” A small tear ran down my cheek when I read this. “P.S. Its an anklet so you can hide it pretty easily in your baggy pant leg.”
Concerned, my mom asked, “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, everything’s great.” I went to get up to get ready for school, but stopped and turned to my mom. “Mom, could you put this on my ankle, please?”
“Sure.” I handed her my new anklet and put my left foot on my vacant chair as she adorned my ankle. She looked up at me and smiled once it was on. “This really is a nice gift. Be sure to thank your sister.”
“I will mom.” I dazedly walked to my room. The anklet would have been something mom gave me. She was always a big proponent of True Love Waits, for those that don’t know of it abstaining from sex until marriage. But vibrator, the anklet and a heartfelt note from my sister? The note was definitely from my sister. Always telling me how beautiful I was, telling me there was someone out there that would love me. But the three items together was a mystery to me. A way to pleasure myself in an attempt to open my sexuality, but an admonishment against giving my love away. It all seemed contradictory.
That was a little over three months ago. Now my sister is home for Winter Break. After dinner, I really wanted to run into her room and talk to her, but she had to deal with a bunch of holiday travelers and tourists so had opted to head to bed. Which was fine, it was Friday night and I had an English paper that was due before my Winter Break started. I decided I could get my paper done tonight and I could have all weekend to talk to my sister.
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