“I know what to expect, Ma,” I groaned while I contemplated bathing in bleach. “I’m not a bleeding kid.” My mother’s head snapped toward me, eyes wide. “So you’re not a…” “No, Ma.” I dropped my head in my hands and fought back the urge to fucking cry. “I’m not a virgin.” “Oh, dear…okay. That’s okay, love. That’s perfectly fine,” she rambled, tone forced. “I just presumed that since you’ve never brought a girl home before now, or talked about girlfriends, that you weren’t pursuing any love partners—” “Keep talking and I’m going to jump out a window,” I warned her. “I’m not
