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Chapter 4

Not wanting to see my pain in the ass siblings, I spent a lot of time in my room after the traumatizing "call me Edward 'The Tampon' Cullen." I still have no idea what possessed me to say that.

If a man's house is his castle, then a guy's bedroom room should be considered sacred ground. Personally, I keep stuff in there that I don't want other people to touch - like my Avatar figurines - and that I don't want other people to know about- like Rosalie's hand lotion and magazines (the dirty kind).

Guys do stuff in their room that's private. You and I both know I'm not talking about doodling hearts with my name and a girl's in a journal. We jerk off – a lot. Sometimes we do it in the shower, other times in bed. If Kleenex is available, we use that. If not, a sock works. There are times - okay, often - when under my bed is a collection of used Kleenex and spunk filled socks. Sue me. I'm a guy; we're gross. And too lazy to clean up after ourselves.

I burp, fart, and scratch my balls in the privacy of my room. Yeah, I do this outside my bedroom as well but in my bedroom I don't have to apologize for it. And it stinks most of the time. Sometimes the combination of smells is so bad I go a little crazy with a hit or two of Axe body spray to try to cover it up. Yeah, I know that doesn't really work, but sometimes the stench is too bad even for me.

In case you're wondering, I keep my porn collection under my mattress. It's pretty lame compared to Jasper's. Mine is a couple of Victoria's Secret catalogue - that Mom had thrown out - and two Playboy magazines. One is from the 1970's - 'borrowed' from my dad (and really, the full-on hairy beaver down below isn't a huge turn on, but hey - a boob's a boob). The other mag is a more recent issue that I stole from my brother. He'd kill me for that, by the way. It's probably not cool to steal another man's porn, but my collection was especially lacking so I took one of Jasper's. I try not to think about him wanking off to the same pictures as me when I'm doing it, 'cause that's just weird.

In my desk drawer is a half used box of condoms. Yes, I'm still a virgin, but I like to practice putting a rubber on so I'm ready should the opportunity arise. Heh, heh. Arise. Anyway. Also hidden somewhere in my desk is a package of Players cigarettes. Mom and Dad would kick my ass for those more than the bottle of vodka that's hidden in my closet - both of which I paid a pretty penny for. It's not easy to get someone to buy that shit for you without paying an arm and a leg. I'm very thankful for my buddy Tyler's older brother who charged us far less than anyone else.

Tossed about my room are clothes – both dirty and clean. Yes, even underwear with the occasional skid marks. Relax, I said occasional - it's not a daily problem. There's also a bunch of dirty dishes and damp towels. Eventually I'll put them away. My bed is rarely made and doubtful my sheets are currently clean but whatev.

FYI: None of the above bothers me. I like my room the way it is, stench and all, thank you very much.

Apparently, though, it bothered my mother. Wait 'til you hear this one.

I came home from school and went right up to my room. I was still pissed at Rose and Jasper and didn't particularly want to spend time with them. I threw my backpack into its usual pile on the floor with plans to start homework after I grabbed a snack from the kitchen. My first clue something was wrong was that my backpack hit the wood floor with a thump. Usually it lands soundlessly on clothes or towels, but this made a distinct 'thump'.

What. The. Fuck.

That's when I noticed what was wrong. There were no clothes on the floor. In fact, it was completely free and clear of dishes and towels, too. My desk had been straightened up and my bed was made. It even smelled clean.

No! No! No! This was so wrong! It didn't feel like home.

"Mom! Mom!" Yelling her name, I stomped down the stairs to the kitchen and found both my parents sitting there.

"Mom! What the heck happened in my … room."

Seeing some of my prized possessions displayed on the kitchen table stopped the words from coming out of my mouth.




My magazines.

"Oh shit."

"Have a seat." Dad did not look enthused in the slightest and Mom had watery eyes like she'd been crying.

I wasn't sure which route to take – pissed off, brooding teen or go straight to remorseful. I went with the former.

"Why were you in my room?" I demanded; eyes narrowed at Mom, the obviously guilty one.

"Don't you be upset with your mother. She was actually doing you a favor by cleaning up that hazardous waste you live in."

I snorted. "Is that what she's calling it instead of what it really was – snooping?"

"I wasn't!" For effect, Mom gave a sob and Dad put a comforting arm around her. Why wasn't anyone comforting me? It was my stuff!

"Care to explain the cigarettes? The vodka? The half used box of condoms? I thought you said you were a virgin?" The word 'virgin' was whispered from my mom's mouth.

"Start with the cigarettes, son."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and then shrugged.

"I wanted to try them. Sometimes at parties I smoke one, you know?" The truth was I hated smoking but I wanted to look cool so I usually just walked around with the pack in my hand to make it look like I smoked.

"Do you think that makes you look cool?" Dad used air quotes around 'cool' which only served to make him un-cool.

"I dunno."

"Do you think it'll be cool to have chemotherapy? Lose all your hair? Have a lung removed all because you wanted to fit in with the guys? What about the alcohol? Do you know what cirrhosis of the liver looks like? I do and I just so happen to have a few photos right here."

Sometimes it really sucked to have a doctor for a dad. He made me look at picture after picture of healthy livers versus livers with cirrhosis. Then I looked at cancer-stricken lungs and healthy lungs.

"Dad, I get it."

"And why do you have my Victoria Secret catalogues? Do you secretly want to dress in woman's lingerie?"

Pretty sure I caught Dad smirking.

"What? No! I...I like the pictures?" My answer came out as a question and my face was burning. It took Mom a second or two but the moment she figured it out she was just as red as I was. Thank God Dad changed the subject.

"And the condoms?"

"You're sexually active, aren't you? Is it with a …. a boy?" Mom was back to whispering. And sobbing.

"Not that again! I swear I'm not having sex – with a guy or a girl. And, once again, for the record, I'm not gay! I was, uh, practicing, you know? So I know what I'm doing when the time comes."

I thought I was going to die of embarrassment.

"That's a very good idea, Edward." Dad said then clarified. "Not that I want you having sexual intercourse anytime soon, but I like that you're a forward thinker."

I guess that was one positive in my favor.

"We are only confiscating things we've both deemed inappropriate for a boy your age. Obviously, we're talking about the alcohol and tobacco. Against your mother's wishes, you can have your condoms back. Your, uh, reading material we are returning to you, minus one that is mine and technically a collector's item." He raised an eyebrow at me.

'Collector's item' my ass. Dad had a hard on for hairy pussies. Eww! That must mean my mom….oh my God. Sign me up for more therapy, I'm going to need it.

"What about the socks, Carlisle? That can't be normal. I think I should call a podiatrist. How long have you had trouble with your feet, Edward?"

"Wh-what? I don't have any trouble with my feet." I scratched my head.

Light bulb.

Oh my fuck! She was talking about my wank socks.

Dad put his hand on her arm and shook his head slightly.

"Esme, don't worry about it."

"How can I not worry about it? He had dozen of socks under his bed that were crusty. He must have a terrible case of athlete's foot or something. Oh! And I wanted to discuss the phlegm issue as well, Edward. I've never noticed you coughing but from all the wadded up Kleenex under your bed, there's certainly an issue. When did this start?"

I looked to Dad for some kind of help. Just when I thought it couldn't get worse…

"Oh my God, Carlisle! Do you think he already has lung cancer?"

Dad lost it, letting out a hearty laugh. "From five cigarettes, Esme? No, I'm sure that's not the case."

"But the phlegm! That can't be normal."

"Our son is more normal than you think, dear. Edward, probably best if you go up to your room so your mom and I can have a private talk." He handed me back my porn collection - minus one 'collector's item' - and I clutched them to my chest. "One last thing, no more booze and cigarettes, got it?"

"Loud and clear!"

As I was leaving I bumped into Rosalie and Bella in the hallway.

"Hey, Loser."

"Hi, Edward."

I rolled my eyes at Rosalie and said hello to Bella.

"I'll grab us a snack, Bells, back in a sec."

That left Bella and I alone together.

Please don't mention tampons, please!

"So, uh, how are you?" I asked.

"Good. Whatcha reading?"

Without thinking I showed her the magazines. Thankfully, if you could call it that, one of the Victoria Secret catalogues was on top and not the Playboy. I had to think on the fly and you know that's not my forte.

"Oh, I'm just looking for something to buy my mom for Mother's Day."

Right, because all good sons buy their mom's skimpy lingerie for Mother's Day.

"Aww, that's sweet. Can I take a look? There was a really cute robe in the last issue, she might like that."

Before I could respond, Bella took the catalogue from me and started to flip through it.

"Some of these pages are stuck together."

Oh. My. God.

"Hhhmm. I can't find it."

Bella closed it and looked at the front cover.

"That's why - this is an old catalogue. I think I have the new one at home, I'll bring it over for you the next time I'm here."

"That would be great, yeah, thanks. I gotta go."

"Sure, see you later."

I practically ran up to my room.

As I sat down on my bed with my journal, I thought about the day. Mom and Dad successfully embarrassed me again and Bella not only touched my wank-a-zine, she was going to bring me new jerk off material. All-in-all, not a bad day. I've had worse.

My mom thinks I'm dying

It's her own fault for spying.

Crusty socks and wads of tissue

Are really not a medical issue.

I think I jerk off as much as any teen

What can I say – I love my peen

I just happened to leave evidence behind

At least Dad didn't say I would go blind.

He did re-claim the mag with the hairy va-jay-jay

It's okay - that's so passe.

How embarrassing that soon mom will know the scoop

Which is that I don't have cancer or croup.

See you next Monday for the next chapter

I promise you more laughter

Thanks for reading and reviewing

Your kind words leave me swooning