Untypically in Love: That Kind of Girl

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Read the full story, chapter by chapter here.

Some names and events have been changed to protect the identity of certain individuals.

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Chapter Fifteen
That Kind of Girl

Against my better judgment, I crawled back inside the window when Matt's mother asked us both to join her in the living room. My fight or flight response had completely kicked in and my legs were begging me to just jump out the window and make a mad dash as quickly as I could. But I didn't. I swallowed down the dramatic urge to throw up from nerves, and I came back inside.

It wasn't the best situation. The boy I loved more than anything in the world had finally introduced me to his parents as they caught me climbing out of his bedroom window. I knew how it looked. But I still didn't fully understand what the big deal was. I didn't understand why I needed to hide or try to run away to begin with. What was the big deal? We hadn't been doing anything.

I found myself seated beside Matt on the living room couch, my forehead pouring down sweat in buckets. It was too quiet as his parents conversed in the other room before joining us. The suspense was killing me inside. I could feel my nerves being eaten away every moment that passed. 

This was unfamiliar territory in so many ways. I'd never been caught in a boys bedroom before. I had made assumptions about what to expect though, in the few minutes that I had to contemplate the worst case scenarios. Matt's parents would certainly yell, scream and then throw me out. I'd never be welcomed into their home again. Matt would certainly be forbidden from ever seeing or speaking to me again. 

It was all over. I knew it.

Matt's father took a seat in the chair a few feet away, leaning back, remaining silent. I'd never seen such a thing. In my family, when you got in trouble, you knew it immediately because the volume increased dramatically. No one ever sat down quietly, contemplating words before they were spoken.

Matt's mother pulled a chair and sat directly in front of us. I gulped down hard, unable to look her in the eye. Unable to speak. Matt did all the talking.

"She hadn't been here for more than a few minutes. She just came by to see if I wanted to hang out." He admitted.

"You know better than to have a girl in your room." She said sternly.

"I know." He sighed.

I was terrified. I wanted to reach out and take his hand. Maybe if we were connected, the two of us - unified - would overcome whatever punishment was about to be handed out.

Finally, her brown eyes turned toward me and I sunk deep into the couch as my heart rapidly beat itself up into my throat. I hoped she wouldn't ask me to speak. There was a very good chance I was going to be sick all over the living room.

"You don't want to be a girl known for having a reputation of climbing out of boys bedrooms, do you?" She asked me, the anger in her voice being replaced by something unfamiliar to me. 

"No Ma'am." I replied quick, my voice shaking.

"You don't want to be that kind of girl. Boys don't respect a girl like that, and neither does anyone else." She added.

That kind of girl. Was I that kind of girl?

I thought about the boys I dated before. Mistakes I had made. Hurt feelings. Broken hearts. I realised that until this exact moment I'd never even really had a conversation with the mother of any of my ex boyfriends. Most of their parents didn't care who they dated, where they went or what they did.

"What's your phone number?" She asked me, grabbing a pen and paper. I gave it to her without even thinking, having no idea what she would need it for. Possibly to screen for it later, demanding that no one answer anytime I called from this point forward.

"What for?" Matt asked.

"I'm going to call her parents." She replied.

I gulped down. "I don't have any."

Her attention turned back to me with confusion.

My words caught in my throat. "I live with my aunt and uncle. My Mom died."

And like the guardian angel my mother always had been, she might have been my saving grace in this very moment as I sat, awaiting emotional execution. 

Matt's mother paused for a moment, her face growing soft. She exhaled loudly, and folded the paper in her hand. "What's your aunts name?" She asked me.

"Paula." 

She mentally noted it and then changed the subject again. "In our family, we don't allow our kids to date until they are sixteen." And there it was. Our relationship was over. I'd never see Matt again. "But.."

There was a 'but'?!

"But I know the two of you are very good friends, and you're welcome to come over anytime you want," She added. "As long as we're home as well." 

It felt like a trick. A trap that was being set. There was no way people could be this kind and understanding. Certainly once I stepped foot out the door they'd laugh and then lock Matt in a closet somewhere. No other explanation made sense. How could they catch me crawling out his window and then welcome me into their home with forgiveness just like that?

"Do you go to Church, Jia?" She asked me.

"No Ma'am." I shook my head. "I mean, I went once, this summer with my sister. She lives in Utah."

And just like that, one simple keyword: Utah, had set a path in motion. 

"Well how about you come to Church with us this Sunday?" She asked me, a sudden, strange smile on her face. "And afterward you're invited to dinner as well." She turned and looked at Matt's father, who seemed to acknowledge his mild approval of her decision, though he remained silent, a newspaper now in hand, his attention directed away from the scene playing before him.

I turned my head and looked at Matt, who seemed just as shocked as I was, though a look in his eyes made him appear a little more educated on what was happening than I could have ever guessed. 

"Sure." I agreed. "I think I have a dress." I added. The only appropriate one I had. It came down to my knees and had thin straps over the shoulders. My older sister had helped me pick out a short sleeved white button up blouse to go over it when I went to Church with her, as she said it looked more appropriate.

"Alright, we'll pick you up Sunday morning." She smiled and stood up. "Steven," She looked to Matt's father. "Can you take Jia home?"

My eyes widened. I was being offered a ride home? I stood up instinctively and turned to Matt, wanting to hug and kiss him goodbye, but suddenly a great big invisible wall had been created between the two of us. It would remain there any moment his parents were ever in the same room with us.

Matt and his mother both walked me out. "It's nice to finally meet you," his mother said, though half her words almost seemed sarcastic, as though she were silently telling me that she wished it had been under better circumstances. I agreed with her.

"It was nice to meet you too Mrs. Woodruff." I gave a timid smile.

"Sister Woodruff." She corrected me.

The ride home with Matt's father, Brother Woodruff, was completely silent, though I hadn't expected any different. I gave directions and once we arrived, I stepped out and turned back to thank him. He gave me a very small smile and nodded his head before I closed the door and watched him drive away.

I stood in my driveway after the van left my sight, and I brought my hand over to my forearm, pinching a fold of skin tightly. "Ow." I mumbled. "Nope. Not dreaming." I muttered and then walked into the house. I could smell stuffed peppers cooking in the kitchen. My favourite meal. Though I was still feeling slightly nauseated from the whole experience of meeting Matt's parents.

"Hey," my aunt called to me as I began walking to my room. "Matt's mom just called me."

Sister Woodruff, I thought to myself.

"Yeah, I gave her the number." I replied.

"She said you were over at there house in Matt's room." Paula said. "What did she need to call me for?" She asked.

"I'm not sure yet." I mumbled. "They're . . . different." I started to walk away but then paused and turned back around. "Hey, can we go shopping this week? I need some new clothes."

"I just bought you new clothes for school." Paula said as she bent down, pot holder in hand as she pulled the casserole dish from the oven. 

"Yeah, but I need dresses." I added, walking into the kitchen. "I need . . . church clothes." I clarified.

Slowly, she turned her head to stare at me, mouth nearly falling open. Sarcasm was getting ready to drip from her mouth, as an amused look fell on her face. Her niece was going to go to Church? This same niece that proclaimed at age twelve that she was a witch and once set the trash can in her bedroom on fire because she was playing with candles? This same niece that stole books from her Middle School library and got caught smoking in the stairwell?

"Not a word." I cautioned her. "Not one single word."

>>> Chapter Sixteen