Robin, Boy Virgin: Original Series

I have not cried this much since… ever. I have never cried this much. Not even when my parents-

I took a deep breath through my nose and impatiently rubbed my eyes. My cheeks, I could feel, were red and there were probably tracks where the tears had been running down my damn face. Like that Smokey Robinson song-

Fuck. I curled my back more, tucking my knees tighter against my chest. My dad, Kevin, Kev, loves Smokey Robinson. When he used to get drunk after a great gig, he’d play old MoTown albums and dance around with my mother in the living room. Then when I got older, and mom didn’t much feel like dancing anymore, he’d get drunk and I’d dance around with him while he sang along to all the songs, loud and in key despite being hammered-

Shit. Shit, stop crying, fuckin’ hell! God, I absolutely hate crying. It makes me feel just, so weak, and stupid. And it makes me so aware that I’m in such a shitty situation that its making me cry. Usually, you know, I choose what situations I get in and I just avoid the drama-fest ones. I used to pride myself on my ability to spot trouble and troubled people and just… steer clear from it. Surround myself with happy, trusting, kind people.

That’s what attracted me to Robin instantly.

I sighed angrily, frustrated beyond belief, and rubbed my face against my pillow, pushing back my tears and then looked out at the bedroom, sniffing.

I knew right away, even though he had a slight chip on his shoulder and was tired of getting stepped on by all those… those bitches at school, Robin was a genuine, kind person. No faking, no drama, just kindness and friendship… and then love.

I swallowed and pushed my hair impatiently off my face. Robin was unlike any other person I had ever met. Even when he was annoyed and sarcastic (which was, admittedly, a considerable amount of the time) it was because he was just trying to protect himself from all that… true fucking emotion in him. I’ve never met anyone who was so ready to accept me as I was, who just went stumbling through life, determined to do his own thing, even though everyone harped on him for it.

He just doesn’t see it. He just doesn’t see that they make fun of him because they don’t understand him, they don’t understand how he can be so different and, and mature. The girls, all of them, secretly wish he was theirs, I can see it. He doesn’t, he thinks they just hate him because he won’t conform to regular teenage pressures. They don’t hate him for it, they fucking love him for it. They just handle it defensively, totally confused by him.

He doesn’t see how amazing he is. I don’t understand how he can’t see it, how he’s blind to how honest he is. He gives Harold credit for being honest and kind (which, of course, that guy is too), but Robin is a different kind of honest. He doesn’t pretend to be something he isn’t, he doesn’t deny his feelings, and he doesn’t act like a totally different person to be accepted.

And he doesn’t shy away from loving people. He might glare at Harold and make fun of his dad, but I know he loves them both. I can tell, I can see it. He loves Minnie too (as a friend, I know that) but still. I can see it in his eyes and his, his composure how much he cares about them. I’ve never known someone like that.

And then at the same time, he is also totally blind to me. I don’t understand how he can possibly be so in love with me, the way he seems to be. Like, I’m the broken, troubled, shittiest person. I used to hate people like me and avoid their baggage at all costs. Now I am like what I hate, and I hate it, I hate myself. I don’t understand how he can love me the way he does. I mean, I guess…

Well, maybe a month ago, when I was a little saner, I was an ok person. I mean, I was ready to spend all my time with Robin, and we had… tons of fun. Like, it was weird. I’ve never been the kind of girl that falls for her best friend. I just don’t, like, operate that way. And if I did fall for a close guy friend, I wouldn’t have kept it inside for as long as I did. I would have told him, straight off, and tried to figure it all out.

But with Robin… I felt like if I told him everything would become too real. Like, if I admitted how I felt, then it would mean admitting a whole scope of feelings that I just couldn’t face. I couldn’t do it. I might be some shitty, broken version of old Cora, but I knew myself well enough to know that if I gave in to how strongly I felt, I’d end up hurting Robin.

Because I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I’m doing here, in this town, living this life, being in love with Robin. This is not me this isn’t, this isn’t what I’m used to. I want my old life, I want my parents to be back together and I want to be in California and be... like... twelve years old again-

And yet, just the littlest thought of going back to California and leaving Robin hurts like nothing else I’ve felt. I do love him, if I can believe it. I don’t know how I can sleep with him and take his virginity, and then run away and still try and claim that I love him. I know it sounds completely ridiculous and heartless. Because it is. It was fucking ridiculous and I think I am heartless.

Fuck, I can’t believe that I’ve done this. And, you know, I’ve never had sex like that. Never. Like, I won’t lie, it wasn’t the wildest, most orgasmic romp in the sack I’ve had (Derek, my almost-boyfriend last year, was a horn dog like you wouldn’t believe), but with Robin it was… something far more intense. It almost hurt my heart to see how much Robin was in love with me when we were, we were…

Making love. Fuck. Robin made love to me, and I’m bat-shit crazy about him, and I ran. I ran like a fucking deer in the headlights. Why, why did I run? Because I don’t want to hurt him-

But I did hurt him. Running away hurt him. What I did, running, that was what hurt him the most. So… why?-

“So… like… why are you so scared, Cora?! Why are you scared of just, just, just moving on and, and…” He paused, trying to catch his upset breath “Being with me??” He finally demanded, his voice breaking.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I am not scared! I am not scared! I have never been scared; I have never been that type of person who gets scared! What could I possibly be afraid of in this whole situation, I’m in love with Robin and my family-

“…But you have to accept that things aren’t going to be that way anymore! They aren’t going to be together! BUT it doesn’t mean that you have to let it ruin your life!! Like, what your parents did, they didn’t just break up because they didn’t love each other anymore! That’s not what it’s about! And I know that your mom and dad would not want you living half a life because you want to be living an old life that doesn’t exist anymore.”

I gripped my pillow and abruptly threw it across the room, hysterically knocking over my side lamp in the process. I sighed, feeling exhausted and bent to pick up the lamp from the floor… my pictures.

I put the lamp on my bedside table, and picked up the stack of developed photos from the ground. The oldest ones were on the top. I sifted through them, until I found a good picture of me and my dad. It was a picture you’d typically think of when people say “California”; the sun was shining, we were at the beach. Both my dad and I were wearing sunglasses and he’s hugging me around the shoulders, grinning away. Just a dad picture, nothing special about it, really. I took a shaky breath and then pushed the picture side-

A picture of Robin. I frowned slightly and picked it up. I didn’t know I’d smushed all the pictures together in one package… this one was of us in the practice room. Our practice room. I’m kissing his cheek and he’s grinning and kind of not looking right at the camera. Wow, I can’t remember the last time I felt that happy. That was a happy, happy, in love picture…

“Honey?” I heard my mom knock on the door. I put my pictures on the bedside table as she came in.

“... alright, Cora, that’s it,” She said, suddenly impatient. She came over and sat on my bed. My mother has always been the down-to-earth one of her and my dad. My dad was a big dreaming, creative musician. I’ll give you an example of what it was like: when I was little and I fell and skinned my knee, my dad would tell me a great story or sing me a song to distract me from my pain while my mom cleaned the wound and put a band-aid on it, kissing my forehead when she was finished. That’s the kind of arrangement it was, with everything they did.

“You’re going to California. I can’t take this homesickness anymore. If you want to live with your dad, sweetheart, it’s alright, just tell me,” My mother said. I could see out of the corner of my eye as Dean pushed her hair off her face while she looked at me, worried about me.

I sat up abruptly.

“I don’t want to go to California,” Actually came out of my mouth.

“… what?” Dean said, confused. I had tried not to talk about it too much, but she could tell how much I missed… my old life.

“I don’t want to go to California. I don’t want to leave,” I said and looked at her. Dean stared at me and then blinked and looked away.

“But…” She said confused.

“I have to go, mom,” I decided, standing up. I felt like I’d been shot with an excessive amount of adrenaline.

“Wait, Cora-” Dean said, standing up too and grabbing my shoulders. I don’t blame her for being confused as fuck.

“It’s ok, mom. I don’t want to go to California. I mean… I miss dad and I love him, yeah, but… I don’t want to leave you. I belong here now, this… this is my life, here,” I said. Dean just stared at me and then touched my hair.

“Look, mom I gotta go,” I said in an impatient rush, spinning out of her touch and grabbing my jacket and purse.

“Well… where are you going??” She asked.

“To the store!” I called over my shoulder as I ran from my bedroom.