The Nowhere Girls(52)

“That’s how my old church was for sure,” Grace says. “Girls wore purity rings and everything. But I’m not like that. My mom’s definitely not like that. She’s not telling me I’m going to hell if I have sex before marriage. It’s just my choice, you know?”

“Amen,” someone says.

“All the purity-ring girls are just letting other people make decision for their bodies,” Trista says. “They’re letting the church make decisions for their bodies. Their dads buy them the ring and give it to them like he’s, like, her boyfriend. Or like Jesus is her boyfriend. It is so gross.”

“There’s some truth in that, for sure,” Grace says. “But maybe try to look at it from their side for a minute. Most of them really think they’re doing the right thing, and for some of the same reasons we’re doing what we’re doing. They believe choosing virginity is a way to respect themselves and their bodies. It makes them feel strong, just like we’re trying to feel strong, because they’re not giving in to peer pressure, not doing something just because everyone else is. And I don’t know, I don’t think there’s one correct faith for everyone in the world, and I don’t judge anyone in here for their choices.” Grace looks around the room, sitting tall, meeting people’s eyes. Her voice is strong as she says, “But, personally, yeah, I kind of agree with them. My old church was backward in a lot of ways, but some of the things stuck with me. Like how sex should be sacred, between two people who are committed and love each other. How our bodies are temples. When I have sex, I want it to be with the person I want to spend my life with. I don’t want to share that with anyone else.”

Barely anyone notices Amber Sullivan get up and slip out of the room. Some girls are so good at being invisible.

“But why not?” Sam says. “No offense, but who decided sex was this precious, holy thing that has to be so deep and special all the time? Why can’t it just be fun? I mean, if you take away all the religion and repressive sexist bullshit, sex is this super fun thing that bodies are, like, made to do. What would happen if we just ignored all the people who make it seem like something evil and did what feels good and didn’t feel bad about it?”

“Yeah!” someone says.

“People would have sex all the time,” Krista says with wide eyes. “With everyone. And then everyone would get pregnant and have gonorrhea!”

“Jesus Christ,” Rosina says, hanging her head in her hands.

“Honey, that’s why you get yourself on the pill or an IUD pronto,” Sam says. “And use a condom every single time. No matter what.”

Krista looks horrified at this prospect.

“I totally respect your point,” Grace says carefully. “But for me personally, I think there’s more involved in the decision than just my body. Like my head, and my heart and soul.”

Sam lets out a big sigh. “I like thinking our bodies are less like temples and more like amusement parks,” she says. “Less sacred, more fun.”

“I don’t think it has to be either/or,” Melissa says.

“It can be both,” someone says.

“So you’re going to wait until marriage?” someone asks Grace.

“I don’t know,” Grace says. “Maybe not. Maybe I’ll fall in love and it’ll feel like forever and I’ll want to do it then. And maybe that’s not the guy I’ll end up marrying. All I know is I’m not in a hurry. Life is complicated enough already.”

“I wish I’d waited,” says an unfamiliar voice—Allison Norman. “But I thought that’s what I had to do if I wanted to be popular. I was so afraid of saying no.” Her eyes fill with tears. “Fourteen is so young.” Connie puts her arm around her friend.

“So what’s the right age?” someone says.

“There’s no one answer,” Sam Robeson says. “We have to decide for ourselves. And adults can’t handle that. They won’t trust us to make decisions for our own bodies.”

“But do you blame them?” Grace says. “They must be terrified. Look what can happen—we can get pregnant, we can get diseases, we can make decisions that screw up our lives forever. We can get hurt in all kinds of ways guys can’t. It’s not fair, but it’s the truth. Parents’ instincts are to protect us, and that’s what they think they’re doing.”

“Maybe your parents,” someone says.

Erin raises her head for a moment and looks at Grace. She blinks, as if surprised to find herself suddenly here, in this room with all these people, not alone inside the small space of her body.

“Hey, I have a question,” says a voice in the back. All heads turn toward the pale girl with black and white hair: Serina Barlow, rehab girl. “Do any of you actually like sex?” The tone in her voice makes it clear that she thinks the answer should be no.

“Yes!” Sam says enthusiastically, immediately, without thinking.

A few nervous giggles. A few pink, blushing faces.

“Me too,” says another girl. “Is that, like, okay?”

“Me three,” says another. “But I feel like I’m supposed to hide it. Like I’m a slut if I like it too much.”

“But you’re also a prude if you don’t,” Margot says. “There’s no way to win.”