Puberty Blues by Gabrielle Carey

horny. Sue was on Danny’s knee in the middle of the armchair, kissing passionately. Cheryl and Gull were stretched out on the lounge, his hand disappearing into her blouse. Wayne and I were lying on the carpet, half under the stereo which was blaring out ‘Close to the Edge’ by Yes. That was the in record to play when you were stoned before Cheech and Chong came along.
    We had the TV on with the sound turned down and the stereo up full blast. When things got horny and uncomfortable enough, you’d disappear with your partner and go to find an empty bedroom. You didn’t just get up and leave though. You had to be cool. You waited until the record needed changing or the dog needed letting out or you wanted a glass of water.While you were out of the room, you’d pretend it suddenly struck you, ‘While I’m up, I wouldn’t mind a root.’
    I’d started to really enjoy sex now. It was the only thing I had to look forward to.
    Wayne led me down the stairs, past the pool, and into the rumpus room. He locked the door. We used to start on the floral night-and-day but always ended up on the floor.
    â€˜Let’s try a backwards one.’
    â€˜Er,’ I said. If I rolled over he’d see my bare bottom.
    â€˜It’s great. Dave and Johnno said it’s great.’
    â€˜Okay …’I rolled over hesitantly. ‘But I don’t know what to do.’
    â€˜It’s all right.’ He eased cushions under my abdomen.
    Finally Wayne said, ‘I’m done.’
    â€˜Okay.’ It was about time to go up for another joint.
    â€˜Give it to me,’ I stretched out my hand.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜You know?’
    â€˜I haven’t got it.’
    â€˜Well, I haven’t got it.’
    â€˜Where can it be?’
    â€˜Gord, I dunno.’
    â€˜Well, we’ll have to look for it.’
    Half naked, we started crawling all over the rumpus room floor. Under the night-and-day. Behind the bar. I even looked behind the piano.
    â€˜I can’t find it,’ I whispered, worried.
    â€˜Turn on the light.’
    Then I couldn’t find the light switch. Eventually we stumbled upon a lamp.
    â€˜It’s just disappeared … You sure you haven’t got it?’ I was half under the night-and-day, checking and re-checking. I must have lifted up every cushion in that room twenty times. I had horrible visions of Mrs Nolan doing the vacuuming and coming across a soggy, spermy, screwed up plastic thing. I imagined her picking it up and showing it to her husband; then realising what it was and washing her hands.
    We had to give it up. It was just nowhere.
    It downed on me in the kitchen …
    â€˜I can feel something.’ Wayne looked at me. I looked at him. He looked back at his cheese toastie. I went to the bathroom. It had been inside the whole time. Things had got so frantic it had fallen off.
    â€˜That’s the last time I’m using one of those bloody things,’ Wayne groaned.
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    A few weeks later I was pregnant.
    I didn’t know I was until one morning I felt really sick.
    â€˜I feel sick, Mum.’
    â€˜Do you want a day in bed, dear?’
    â€˜Yeah.’
    â€˜Do you want some Vegemite on toast and a cup of tea?’
    â€˜Nu.’
    â€˜All right. Look after yourself. Bye now.’
    She’d just gone out the door when I desperately wanted to do a pee. Then it happened. It all came out like watery, underset jelly. I flushed it away.
    There were certain laws in Sylvania Heights about getting pregnant. We had three ways of trying to get rid of it. You could ride your horse bare-back. Cheryl was always galloping Randy, unsaddled, around the football field. You could get Steve Strachan to punch you in the lower stomach. His friends would hold you while he took aim. It never worked. Some chicks were lucky enough to miscarry but usually you had to tell your father. I could never have told mine. Thank God I