There is nothing more awkward than teenage love. You barely know each other. Heck, you barely know yourself, and you’re doing all sorts of new things because someone older than you told you it was the “cool” thing to do. Just when you thought your awkward middle school years were behind you, you’re stuck in high school on an awkward first date with someone whom you have to walk past in the hallways every day. There’s nothing worse than that. Until there is.
I was 16 and had decided to drive my boyfriend home from school that day. We were surprised to see that no one was home, and decided to take advantage of it, as any teen couple would. I was so happy that we were finally in the stage of our high school fling where we could be together alone without it being awkward. Somewhere between me getting my license, feeling awesome because I could drive him home, and actually having a boyfriend, I felt invincible. I got the guts to do what every teen movie told me was cool and pushed him into his room in the basement. Here I am on top of him, kissing him, and it’s actually not going terribly. I didn’t exactly know where it was going, but I was on one heck of a ride.
Just as he runs his hands underneath the back of my shirt to start and take it off, I see a facial expression on him that I can honestly say I have never seen before in my entire life. It was somewhere between sheer panic, hilarity, and wanting to cry all at the same time. I kid you not, it was such a terrible face that I hope to God I never have to see it again. I swing my head around and there she is…his stepmom.
Now, if you’re ever in this predicament, there are a few ways that you can handle it.
1. Cry. Just start crying and apologizing about how sorry you are, even if you don’t mean it at all.
2. Laugh. Because honestly you’ll look back at it someday and it’ll be funny, so it might as well be today.
3. Stay silent. Sometimes it’s better to see the reaction before you react yourself.
I did a mix of those three things all in one. Instantly I laughed. I realize now that it wasn’t one of my finer moments, but between his face and me mid dry-hump, I didn’t know what else to do. Then I stayed quiet. Honestly, I can’t remember if I even ever talked to her again after that moment. One of these moments either kills or makes a friendship – I decided it was forever dead between us.
It was the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me. I desperately wish that this was the end of the story, but it is not. What happened next was even worse than the initial scare.
If his stepmom were a smart woman, she would have closed the door really quick, given us a few seconds to figure out how to recover, and then came and talked to us. She, of course, did not. Instead, she kept the door wide open, watched me climb off of him, and then gave us a sex talk. Yes, you read that right, she gave us – neither of us her own children – a sex talk. Oh, and she whipped out a condom as well, like she was just waiting for this very moment. So, there’s the cherry on top of the sad, melted ice cream. The condom, which was the smallest condom I have ever seen in my life, was also flavored. Shoot. Me. Now.
It was probably more terrifying for him, but there is a bit of good news to this story. We’re still together six years later, his dad divorced her, and we’re able to laugh about it now. Moral of the story: lock your doors, kids.
Featured image via freestocks.org on Pexels
