Chapter #2Cassie Pennant by: BeeJay   My name is Cassandra Pennant. Call me Cassie; everyone does. Well, the handful of people who want to talk to me do, anyway.
I was 16 when it happened: I was just finishing up my sophomore year at Lakewood High in Eagan, Minnesota. Mine was a blended family: besides me, there was my mom, Beth; my stepfather, Don, who asked me to call him Pop, rather than claim the place of my late father; and my stepbrother, Pat. We got along pretty well.
I had two friends in school: Trish Regan and Susan Porter. I had a crush, Kevin Stewart, but I'm not sure if he knew that I was alive. I was a plain-looking girl, with mousy brown hair, and breasts that refused to grow bigger than an A cup. Needless to say, I wasn't exactly beating the guys away with a stick.
My sex life could best be described as imaginary. My knowledge of the male anatomy was like my knowledge of the Eiffel Tower: I knew it existed, and I'd seen pictures; but I had absolutely no idea what it was like at the top.
You may be asking yourself: Why is this girl going on about how nobody has ever slept with her? Well, I need for you to know these things about me. I need you to believe them. I need you to believe me.
If you don't believe me, you won't understand why I reacted to what my gynecologist told me as if she claimed that I had three heads.
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The breakfast Pop made looked good on the plate, and tasted good as I ate it; when it came back up and into the toilet bowl, though, neither was true. I couldn't understand it. I had no food allergies, and Pop was a decent cook; so why was my stomach doing somersaults?
Mom knocked on the bathroom door. "Okay in there, Cassie?" she asked.
"I'm sick," I said, honestly surprised I was able to open my mouth without more food coming out.
"Why don't you stay home today, baby girl?" she asked. "I'll tell the school, and then I'll try and get you in to see Dr. Foster." Dr. Foster had been my doctor since I was too old for a pediatrician.
When my stomach was empty, I brushed my teeth, and gargled three times, to kill both the smell and the taste of throw-up. No need to announce to everyone that I'd spent the morning calling Ralph on the white porcelain phone.
With that done, I came out of the bathroom. Mom was brewing tea on the electric kettle. "Do you feel up to some tea and soda crackers?"
Since my stomach didn't rebel at the idea, I gave it a try.
As I sipped the tea and nibbled on the soda crackers, Mom asked, "Do you have any idea what brought this on?"
I shook my head. "I was fine last night; and I thought I was okay when I woke up. I don't get it."
"Well, I got you in for a 10:20 appointment; Dr. Foster will have you sorted out."
I hoped so; I didn't think I could take more mornings like this one. | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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