How time flies. Now I’m not blogging…now I am. Now I’m not attending a parade of weddings…now I am. Now I’m not getting laid…now my youngest brother is.
I was in a hurry to leave home for work when I spotted the screaming hickeys on his neck. He was wearing a t-shirt (Speaking of, check out my own line of t-shirts here.) which is understandable as it would be highly suspicious if he were wearing turtleneck in scorching hot summer. My initial reaction was to point and ask, “Ano ‘yan?” to which his peer Mark and cousin Kaye erupted into laughter. “Wala ‘yan!” he said.
This incident reminded me of that Nip/Tuck episode when Dylan Walsh‘s Dr. McNamara found out his son John Hensley‘s Matt went on a three-way. A part of me wants to say, “Way to go, dude!” but the other half wants to slap with him my silkscreen. Not that I’m against intimacy between couples. It’s the blatant display of such that I’m disgusted with. Worse, it’s my mother’s potentially violent and/or verbal outburst that I was afraid of. I’m not convinced she is already prepared to accept that her youngest kid has raging hormones. Especially that the eldest daughter and the middle child manage to appear unattached since birth. But let’s not go there.
Before I closed the door behind me, I told him, “Good luck kay Mama!”
Of course, I told a couple of my friends. Some were shocked that a 17-year-old kid is already engaged in sexual acts. Some were nonchalant, saying it’s normal for boys to start early. Then, there’s this small percentage who judged me as being bitter for my brother.
I’d love to react further on the latter but the second reaction really ticked me off. It’s the sickening double standard all over again. So what’s wrong if teen girls manifest desire to appease their lust? Is it their fault that they’re wired to have strong yet hard-to-please sexual urges? Is it bad to ask for multiple orgasms soon?
A few days later, I heard my brother gush about his new slip-on shoes while I was having my dinner. The presence of my father made me nervous. I followed them in his bedroom. Topless, he placed his t-shirt on his left shoulder, apparently, to conceal the marks. I silently wished him well.
Yesterday, I did not see any trace of it anymore. Perhaps he learned the trick on how to get rid of it.
Until now, I assume that my parents had no idea about it. They are still convinced that my brother attends his daily summer class until noon then hang out somewhere to have halo halo with friends until the sunset then go home. Who knows what really happens during those afternoons?
I’m not going to find out either. I am yet to let him know that doing something about lust is fine but being careless about it is not. Give me until payday so I can afford to buy a box of condoms. I hope I’m not being too trustful and, more importantly, too late. I’d be equally crushed as my folks in case this leads to unwanted pregnancy, among others. For this, I am willing to play the role of a parent. Please wish me loads of luck.