Raisin Rodriguez & the Big-Time Smooch by Judy Goldschmidt Page A

know when their kids are talking trash?
    Horace pulled Lola onto his lap to comfort her, but my mother continued to focus all her attention on me.
    â€œDon’t you think you should make sure Lola’s okay? After all, she doesn’t really know Horace that—”
    â€œRaisin! Please don’t change the subject. What do you mean by ‘not much’?” As she waited for an answer, she refused to look away. She wouldn’t even blink. Or wink. Not even long enough to let me figure out whether to save my dignity or my life.
    â€œI mean, I never really kissed a boy,” I said, coming to my senses. How dumb would it be to lose my life over saving face with my mother?
    â€œRaisin! Don’t lie to me!” she said.
    CAN YOU IMAGINE THE SHAME? I WAS READY TO UNSCREW MY HEAD AND FLUSH IT DOWN THE TOILET. EVEN MY MOTHER DIDN’T BELIEVE I NEVER KISSED A BOY!
    â€œMom, I’m not lying. I never kissed a boy. The closest I’ve come to kissing a boy who’s not a relative is when Countess licks my mouth after dinner.”
    â€œThen why did you say you had? You don’t have to pretend for me. I’m proud that you’re not rushing into things. It means you have self-worth. It means you know that you’re not ready. You do know you’re not ready, right? Because you aren’t. You’re just a child. But now that you have your period, you are physically ready to have a baby. You know that, right? I must have explained that part to you when I got pregnant with Lola. At least I hope it was me who explained that to you, and not that nasty little boy who showed you the dirty magazines when you were in kindergarten. What was his name again? Joshy? Every one is in such a rush these days to—”
    â€œMom!”
    â€œYes, sweetheart?”
    â€œWhy are you getting so upset?”
    â€œI’m not up-se-he-he . . .” That’s when the tears started streaming down her face. “It’s just that you’re not a baby anymo-oh-oh.”
    She was all over the place. Not making a bit of sense. She takes me out to a fancy restaurant to make sure I know I’m still a child, then she burst into tears because I’m not a baby. She goes out of her way to make sure I know that getting my period means that now I could get pregnant; meanwhile, she’s suffering from the world’s worse case of PMS-itis and doesn’t even realize it.
    Get it together, woman!
    â€œYes, but I haven’t been a baby for twelve years; why are you crying now?”
    â€œI guess I might as well tell you what’s going on. Samantha’s been seeing a college boy and spending time alone with him in her room. Horace and I both think she’s too young for that kind of behavior, and we’ve asked her not to let it happen again. But we also know that you look up to her and that sometimes when a young girl looks up to a teenager, the young girl will mimic the older one’s behavior. So I wanted to have this talk with you before it was too late. It’s not too late, right, honey? Please tell me it’s not too late.”
    I assured her for the millionth time that it wasn’t too late. She seemed really relieved and grateful. I just hope she holds on to that feeling for a while. So that one day, hopefully soon, when she does find me alone in my room with CJ, she’ll remember how grateful she felt toward me for not doing it sooner and go easy on me.
    BECAUSE IT IS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE CJ REALIZES HIS LOVE FOR ME, AND I REFUSE TO STAY INEXPERIENCED FOREVER!
    PS—Reputation remains intact.
    PPS—I wonder how they found out about Sam?
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Comments:
    Logged in at 9:54 PM, EST
    kweenclaudia: oh my god, rae! that must have been so horrible. why couldn’t your mom just give you a book about it like other parents?
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Logged in at 9:59 PM, EST
    PiaBallerina: My parents sent me to a class. It was called My Body, My Bodhi and we took