My parents were already nude and preparing supper when I arrived. They saluted me and asked me if everything was ok. I confirmed it was and that both Mrs. Sanchez and her husband had been very nice.
"Did you know he was an architect?" I asked them
"We did. He does really nice designs. He is working on plans for townhouses. That could be good for the tax base of the city, even if it's even more suburban conversion," says my mom.
"What's a townhouse?" I asked, not knowing the term.
My dad explained. "You know what a condo is, right?"
"It's like an apartment, but people buy them individually?"
He nodded. "Basically. Well, there is a maintenance fee, like it's the same roof for everyone. So if it breaks, everyone needs to cover the cost and agree on it. Same thing for common corridors. And they need to be heated, and someone has to plow the snow, and it's a common grass. It's a pain for many owners."
"I didn't realize that. So in an apartment, who pays?"
"The landlord! But there isn't one for a condo. Townhouses are like condos, but they occupy a vertical section. It's like a few tall but narrow houses all next to each other. And I do mean next. They are touching each other."
"Wow. So, like, a whole row of houses with no sides?" I say.
"Yeah, Sugar. And that way, each house owns its own lawn, its own roof, and has its own front door."
"I see. And it's good for taxes?"
"Plenty of houses in a small footprint."
"Thank you for explaining. I'll go undress for supper. Does Charlie eat with us?" I ask casually.
"That's the plan. We are making roast beef."
"Not too much for me. I think I ate too much for lunch. Olivia really went overboard."
I didn't even eat with her, but hey. Any calorie not eaten is possibly a calorie off my hips or my stomach.
Edith was playing a video game with Charlie. I went to my room to undress, but I saw they were playing Super Smash Bros.
I saluted them and went into my room.
As I undressed, I thought about something.
I assumed that social pressure was put on you by others.
I gave Gabriella a hug when I wasn't supposed to. I wasn't used to naturism anymore, and I was surprised at how much she supported my ideas.
Furthermore, I do give hugs to my parents at home even if nude, but they're my parents. Just like Edith sometimes hugged me even if I was nude, because she is my sister.
I didn't think. But I realized that while Gabriella was touched that I wanted to hug her, it made her uncomfortable.
I thought my parents saw me and would scold me when I got back home. But they said nothing. And spoilers, they never said anything. I am convinced, to this day, that they didn't see the hug in question. And neither Mrs. Sanchez nor Gabriella ever said anything either. Yes, I am seeing them as two aspects of the same person.
And yet, I taught myself not to do it again, not because of my parents, not because of Gabriella's reaction.
Because in my mind, if my parents had seen me, they would have scolded me, and that was enough to put social pressure on me to not do it again.
I began this series as a rebel, and now, I was afraid of being punished so much that I would adjust my behavior.
12-year-old Julie would say that it's a sign of weakness. Post-Ritalin 14-year-old me thinks it's a sign of maturity. 22-year-old me writing this thinks that I am already lying so much with the fasting and dieting that I can't afford minor infractions.
I heard a song recently as a 22-year-old. "I drive the speed limit cause there's drug in the car" by Shockwire.
The song is basically that he can't be pulled over because of the drugs in the car. Well, I can't get busted with a hug because of my constant lying about what I am eating.
But does my 14-year-old self realize that? Hell no.
Instead, nude, I grab a towel and join my sister and brother-in-law, who pause the game.
"Wait, you are nude?" Says Edith.
"Oh, right, you missed that! I went to the non-landed club yesterday. I guess I am back to being a naturist."
"I am glad. Wanna play?" Says Edith.
"Sure!"
I am not that good at Super Smash Bros. It's a fighting game where the more damage you have, the further away you get kicked when hit. But you don't die from damage; you die from falling off the stage. The problem is that with my visuospatial dyspraxia, I can fall on my own. No need to be attacked...
This means I tend to play less, so I end up not mastering the other concepts of the game, and thus it makes me want to play even less.
Two things occurred, however, that afternoon.
Charlie, who was gaining a lot of maturity, decided to tutor me in the game.
At first, he only gave me tips, which helped me a lot. This encouraged him, and he asked his girlfriend if he could give me some formal training. She agreed, so he made me do practices that helped me a ton.
We played more games, and I didn't suck as much. I wouldn't say I was good, but I didn't jump to my doom as much.
The second thing is that Edith commented on how glad she was that I was nude again.
Charlie didn't understand why. So he asked, and Edith ended up admitting that she feels safer around nude people.
"Would you feel safer with me nude?"
She had to think. "No, because you are a special case. I wouldn't mind if you were nude, but I don't think it helps. I think that my boyfriend needs to make me feel safe, regardless of what he is wearing. But I get to pick you. I can't pick my family."
My mother had overheard that.
"That's not fully true, Edith."
"What do you mean?"
"If we didn't make you feel safe, you could tell Carmen and get a new family."
"But that would be even worse! I wouldn't know which family I would get."
"You do," says Charlie.
"Huh?"
"If you think I wouldn't ask my parents to foster you so we stay close, you are wrong."
"It wouldn't work, Charlie, because by law, a foster kid needs to have their own personal room, and you only have three bedrooms."
He seemed sad until he realized something. "Fine, but I don't need one. I could officially move into the basement and give my room to Edith."
My mom laughs. "You really are a creative young man."
He said thanks but seemed flustered. I doubt that Charlie gets a lot of praise.
Supper was just about ready, so the three of us set the table. Fine, the two of us, Charlie was more or less useless, but that's ok. After supper, he offered to wash the pots and pans. Apparently, Ellie had put him on that duty for extra minutes of video games, and even after the system got abolished when he became more mature, he kept the habit.
The roast was delicious enough that I almost wanted to cheat on my diet, but I held firm.
Edith ate with appetite, but Charlie was the worst.
He explained how he recently discovered that the more he worked out at a gym, the less frustrated and angry he was. He was thinking that perhaps while his father was lacking in testosterone, maybe he was overflowing, and working out burned it.
None of us knew if it made sense, but I decided to ask my dad what he was talking about with Richard and testosterone.
"Oh, it's a gel he puts on his stomach, and recently, his dose got increased, and he puts it on his left shoulder too."
"A gel? Not a pill?" I ask.
"Apparently not, Sugar. Apparently, it's much better absorbed by the skin. But his problem is that he can't shower or swim for 4 hours, and no one can touch him for, like, 2 hours. When he gets to work, it's easy enough, but it means that in the morning on the weekends, he needs to make sure Ellie or Marge don't hug him or pat him on the shoulder or something."
"Oh, or they could get some?"
But Charlie spoke up. "The worst is our stupid counters. When he puts his gel on, droplets sometimes drop on the floor or on the counter. He needs to wash the floor, but sometimes, we don't see the drops on the counter. I touched it once. I suppose it's not that bad for me, but it would have been bad for my sister or my mom."
"Oh, he didn't mention that. I guess he would need to wash the counter each time too?"
"He does now. It's so annoying," says Charlie, all closed up.
But my mom guessed what the real problem was.
"Are you mad that you might have to take some like him when you get older?"
"What? No," he said, but he was protesting a little too much.
My dad intervened. "Do you know what percentage of men would need that gel at some point in their lifes?"
"I don't know, 5%?"
My dad chuckles. "More like 95%. Women get menopause; we get andropause. Your dad got his far too early; he is outside the norm. But I will get there. And you will. But with that gel, you can reduce the effect much easier than how women have it."
"We have a cycle of two hormones; it's a mess. You only have one, the same every day," said my mom.
"I didn't realize it was that common," said Charlie.
"Well, your dad had it rough," said my dad. "He said he was basically at zero. Something went wrong in his body. However, you only have half of his genes. And it might not even be his genes; maybe he got a disease, or perhaps it was stress. It's not like the doctor tried to figure out why he was low in testosterone. Your dad tried to find out, and they brushed him off."
"Typical," said Charlie, but soon enough, his mood improved.
My mom mentioned that she wanted to show us her favorite movie growing up. It's called Pump Up the Volume. It's about a student at a stuck-up school who makes a pirate radio where kids can call to talk about their problems. He plays weird music and makes bad jokes, but something is wrong with the school, and it comes to the forefront.
I thought it sounded interesting. Edith was more interested in spending time with Charlie, but he needed to get back home for "stupid family time."
"I can't go?" Asked Edith.
"I asked. Apparently, we need some time just the four of us or something," he said.
I decided to ask Charlie a question.
"Did Marge ever bring someone home?"
"My sister? I don't think she even knows how to date or what sex is. She can be so stuck up," he says.
But I know she brought her ex. Did she not tell her family they were dating?
My mom opened her mouth; I think she wanted to ask him to be more respectful, but she didn't say anything.
Still, that told me a ton about Marge, or perhaps just about her relationship with Charlie.
Maybe Ellie knows more about Marge. Still, what she tells her family is none of my business.
Except that now, I told my mom about Marge, and Charlie told plenty. And my mom is Ellie's friend.
We finished eating, and Charlie had to leave, so he hugged Edith, they kissed a little, and he went away on his bike.
As soon as he was gone, I wanted to talk to Mom, but she already wanted to talk to me.
"What Marge tells her family is none of my business," she said.
"Thank you, Mom."
"What happened?" Asks Edith.
"Well, Marge told me she dated, and Charlie doesn't know."
"D'uh, he doesn't care about his sister," said Edith. "I know about Dave. And Ellie does too. Don't worry about it."
I wondered if Edith knew more about Marge, but it wasn't my place to out her.
My dad made three bowls of popcorn, one for me, one for Edith, and one for them. I asked for no butter, which he found weird, but the reality is that popcorn has almost no calories, and butter has too much.
Edith retreated into her room and came back wearing only shorts. She had been fully dressed when Charlie was there but wanted to be as nude as she usually is with us.
We watched the movie. And I really liked it. It felt weird, as no one had cell phones, and there was no Internet at all.
But it was like that when my parents were young. I had heard about that. Plenty of times. The horrors of being a Gen X.
Please...
Every generation thinks they have it the worst. Even the boomers who objectively got it the easiest. It's not even a competition. They could show up to any workplace and get hired for a job that allowed them to not only pay for university but also for a house.
My odds of ever buying a house despite a pretty good salary are slim. I pay my rent each month and hope for the best.
Still, the idea of a school getting rid of poor-performing students to increase their average is terrifying.
Overall, I think I liked the movie. But something else occurred.
Mark Hunter, the main character, plays a song for his radio show. Everybody knows. I loved the catchy beat, and I decided something.
Most of the other dancers who came over for lunch for dance practice had hip hop or high-speed pop music.
My performance was all about escaping, so I wouldn't dance that fast and, rather, do more elaborate moves.
I decided that the music for my number would be the melody of that song, but with lyrics I would write. I have no idea how I would do that, but I had a few weeks to figure it out. Maybe I could find a karaoke version of the song and just record lyrics on it. Mrs. Sanchez notably said that someone else could sing it, so perhaps I wouldn't even have to tackle it.
Yeah, that was starting to look like something.
I left almost three-quarters of my popcorn in the bowl, to which my dad commented that if I had taken butter, I would have eaten it all up. Except, that was the exact point!
He did put butter on it and ate some of it while I went in the shower.
It was my first naturist shower in about 2 years. And you'll say, aren't we all nude in the shower? Well, yeah, but when a naturist showers, they are nude; they just get into the shower, and when done, dry off and walk off. There is no awkward undressing or dressing back up.
I got my story and managed to stay awake for all of it.
Overall, a great weekend, I think.
I designed most of my dance routine for the recital, got back to naturism, learned a lot about Olivia, reconnected with Marge and learned weird things about her, and managed to still skip 3 non-breakfast meals over two days. Not bad! I even met Mateo, the husband of my mentor. And I saw her nude! I even hugged her. Overall, a great weekend.
I even lost about 3 and a half pounds.