Jenny's Journey

I was a good girl growing up. I never got into trouble with my parents, I studied hard and received good grades, and I worked as a babysitter to save money for college. When I was 18 years old, I had been excepted to Harvard University and was planning my move to Boston.

My boyfriend, Cameron, was not particularly excited for me. We had been fighting again and again about how he wanted me to stay in our little town and go to community college with him. And it is what we did on the night I now consider the first day of my new life.

It was already past midnight and we had been rehashing the same points again and again for hours.

"I can't believe you're going to be so fucking selfish," Cameron repeated his earlier statement, "How do you think our relationship will work out if you're gonna be over 200 miles away from me?"

"Please, Cam," I pleaded, "This is such an amazing opportunity for me. And we can make it work, I know it! It won't be easy, but we will call each other and visit as often as we can and-"

"Right, 'cause phone calls is what I really want from you," he sneered.

I swallowed, feeling the anger rise in me. "So we're back to _that _fight then?"

"OF COURSE!" Cameron yelled, "Of course we are back to that fight! You've been stringing me along for fucking THREE YEARS telling me you aren't ready."

"I was not--"

"And now you are going to LEAVE ME here and go to your precious little university with your virginity intact and my balls deep midnight fucking BLUE!"

"Look, Cam, I already told you tha-"

"Do not fucking repeat that nonsense to me," Cameron growled, "It's not your responsibility to make sure I'm sexually satisfied -- tell me, Jenny, what IS your responsibility then? Why have a girlfriend if she won't even fucking put out?"

I was taken aback by how harsh my boyfriend was being. I swallowed and said, "I think we should come back to this tomorrow, when we are calmer."

"Yeah, sure," he snapped at me, "because we can't even have a fight without you approving the time and place."

I didn't know how to answer and we looked at each other in silence before Cameron added, "Just get the fuck out of my room then."

I don't think I even told him good night before fleeing out the door. As had been the case for all the nights I had spent at Cam's, I would be sleeping in the guest room. I tried to calm myself down as I sat on the bed for a couple of minutes before changing into my pjs, taking my make-up off and brushing my teeth.

Walking on my tip-toes, I moved down the stairs to get myself a glass of water. What I didn't know at the time was that Cam's father, Mr. Paulson, was sitting on the living room couch and had heard every detail of our fight. Neither did I know how mad he was.