33 | I MIGHT START A WAR

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Iris

"I hate morning breakfasts when Mom isn't there," I say, getting into the passenger's seat of Colt's car.

Colt snickers, starting the car. "What did Steve do?"

"Lecture me about birds and bees and teenage pregnancies."

"What the actual fuck?" He glances at me in surprise, before looking back at the road. "I thought that was all done when we were in seventh grade."

Yesternight was a long night. With what happened with Mr. Radcliffe and then, Noah literally putting the whole 'let's get over that bet/date' bomb on me, the last thing I had wanted was Daisy to be pissed.

And she wasn't.

When she came back home, she talked to me first. I don't know if it was her as a sister or a future psychologist but she asked me to tell her whatever happened and how I felt. I told her everything—every detail, except the date, of course.

It was one of the most civil conversations we ever had until she punched my arm, lightly and I tried to punch back lightly.

In the end, Daisy was wrapped with my blue blanket while my face was under the mountain of pillows.

But it wasn't the end. Because of me—because I opened up my big mouth and listened to my mind, to be honest with my parents, Dad—who was very cool with that date, may I remind you—still lectured me about the intercourse.

Also...

"You know what he did?" I complain. "He made me watch Teen Moms in the morning. In the morning, Colt. I was eating when one of the girls gave birth to a baby and named him 'Shawn'!"

"Okay..." He draws out. "But why?"

"What goes in his mind, stays in his mind—except when Mom successfully takes it out."

Colt nods. "I actually asked why she named the baby Shawn?" I glare at him and he laughs. "Chill, Iry. I am just trying to loosen you up."

"I hate it, Colt." I look at him. "Daiz never got these lectures when she was a teen. Why me? Do you get any lectures?"

He glances at me, confused. "Why that stress on if I have any sex ed lectures?"

"Do you, Colten Dias, get any given that you are a virgin too?" I ask him.

He sucks on his teeth. "No, I don't."

"Exactly!" I scoff. "Because you are a guy. You do get the birds and bees talk but that's it. That's it, Colt. You don't have to watch teen moms suffer and not get a choice if they want an abortion or not—either way, they will be judged by everyone. Does anyone even tell you that these teen pregnancies happen because a guy happens to forget to put the protective plastic around his ding-dong?

"Society expects you to lose your virginity because boys will always be hormonal, sex-addicted, sleeping around the town boys but girls are soft and daddies' princesses so we have to think a lot before we even touch a guy."

I blow out a long breath, leaning back on the seat, and look outside from the window.

Colt starts, "Iris—"

I sigh. "I know it is morning and this—"

"I am sorry."

I blink, when I look back at Colt. "What? Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything! You are the only one who never mentions my virginity. Otherwise, everyone else is just so interested in my non-existent sex life."

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