The Virgin Father (Prolouge)

The last thing I expected, hell the last thing ANYONE would've expected, is that I would become a father BFORE I lost my virginity. My daughter Chloe didn't really get it either.

She was 16 years old when she asked me a question I knew was coming, but dreaded. "If my Mom, my biological Mom was such a bad person Dad, why did you fuck her?" She may not have been my real daughter, but she certianly had my vocabulary. The face on an Angel with the mouth of a Sailor. "Well, I didn't honey. Misty and I never slept together." Naturally she was confused. "Honey," I said, "it's time you know the truth. I've been putting it off long enough, you deserve to know."

19 Years Earlier...

My name is Scott Yates. I was not a happy teenager, as if there ever was such a thing. I was 18 when it started. I had just gotten my first job at a comic book store, and my Mom was driving me nuts. She was always telling me to get a "real job". Tos top living in a fantasy world. I was psychotic if I thought that I could ever one day work at Marvel Comics with no drawing talent, she'd always say. "There's more to comics than just drawing Mom. SOMEBODY has to write the dialouge and the stories!" I always tried to tell her. But she never listened. All she ever talked about was how much she hated her ex-husband, my Dad, and how much she hated politicians. And yet she was always watchcing C-SPAN. I could never figure that one out.

It was three months after my 18th birthday. It was August and it was really fucking hot, as it usually was this time of year in this part of New Jersey. I was working the closing shift at the comic shop when she came in. She was gorgeous. Short skirt, long smooth legs, beautiful flowing blonde hair, and the topper (for a geek like me anyway) was the shirt she was wearing. It was not only tight, and very from revealing leaving little to the imagination, but on was the logo of my all-time favorite comic book, Green Lantern. She smiled at me. "Hi," she said non-chalantly as she seductively strode towards the graphic novel section. "My boyfriend is in the hospital," she said, but still not losing her intoxicating smile, "And he really likes Green Lantern. I'm really not that into comics, but I love him. I guess that's why I wear this silly shirt." She giggled. I hadn't yet said to her. I was of two minds. The hormonal teenager wanted to rip that shirt right off and do the kinds of things that would porn stars take a second look at their contracts. The other part, the part that helped me get throguh the tedium of New Jersey's public school system was saying "Who the fuck does she think she is, marching here when I'm trying to close up. I have to get home in time for Leno's monolouge!" This inner conflict must've shown on my face becuase she cocked her head to one side and frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry, are you closing? I'll only be a second if that's okay." I nodded, although honestly I was too fucked up on testosterone to try to stop her. She spent what felt like an hour sexily running he rfingers along each row of graphic novels, starting with the As. She was toying with me! She knew what she was looking for started with a G, she was doing this to send me into an arrousal coma. She slowly plucked out a graphic novel form the G-H shelf, and looked at the cover for long time, licking her lips as she did so. My pessimism kicked in then. "Dude, she doesn't have boyfriend, and she hates comics. She just lost a bet and has to try to trick you into thinking you have a chance with her. Just kick her ass out," it kept saying to me. She walked up and put the graphic novel on the counter. I can't remember what the hell it was though. I remember so much else about that time in my life, but frustratingly I can't remember what she bought! Ah, not that it really matters. Anyway, the reason I probably can't remember is because I was tyring very hard not to stare at her boobs, almost poking right through the Green Lantern shirt. She paid for it in cash, and she didn't talk the whole time, until she got to the door. "You know," she said, "I might just shop here again." I nearly passed out as the last of the blood from my brain ran down to my, well, you know.

It was almost a month before I saw her again. I wasn't working late shifts anymore because I was just beginning my senior year in high school. It had started three weeks late ebcause of a really bad fire that all but gutted the old building. Outwardly I showed glee and delight along with all the other kids, and on a certian level I was glad. I never liked how condescending most of my teachers were (except my History teacher who would later become Chloe's godfather), but deep inside I was sad that the rather beautiful architechture of the building had been so badly damaged. I had never seen a school that actually LOOKED so lovely, and I never would again. It was the day I went back I saw that girl in the GL shirt agian, although this time she wearing a plain white t-shirt, and tattered jeans. Her hair was a mess, but I still recognized her. I waved hello, but she didn't seem to see me. Oh well, I figured. I may not be ugly, but as long as I worked at a comic store the cliques of this stupid school would always shun me. My last semester of the day was Mr. White's history class. Mr. White was tall, dark, and laconic, and had a slight nervous tic. He explained later that he used to be just tall dark and laconic, but the steadily rising increase in violent behavior amongst students of this school had rather got to him. He was a nice man, but like I said very quiet, and had the air of an English Viccar apologizing for something. I sat down, rubbed my tired eyes (I suffer from insomnia, and have all my life), and only then realized that two rows over was that same girl who'd really got me hot and bothered. She still hadn't appeared to notice me. I considered saying Hi to her, but decided against it. The class went without a hitch, and I learned a few things about the Celtic Empire that would come in handy a few years later. Outside of school I went to get my bike, and noticed that some smart-ass had removed the back wheel. I'm not quite sure exactly how many profanities I uttered loudly after that, but it was certianly loud enough to grab a lot of attention from a lot of people. One of them came forward, and offered to give me a ride home in her car. It was Green Lantern girl! "Sure," I said. She ended up being my first kiss that day, and I even learned her name. Misty. She seemed uncomfortbale being touched, and I respected it. She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, then said goodnight.

Our relationship was entirely secret, adn apart from that goodnight kiss, remained platonic. It turns out she did have a boyfriends, but she didn't dislike comics much at all. She really did like Green Lantern, but told people she didn't because she didn't want to be seen as uncool. So at least once a week, she would sneak away from her girlfriends, and hang out at the comic shop with me, and we would talk about nerdy shit for hours. We ended up becming great friends, and she even tried to set me up on a blind date once. That ended badly, but that was pretty much my fault. Graduation came, and Misty moved off to Colorado to go to college at CU, and I satyed in New Jersey. I eventually became manager of the comic book shop, and although I missed Misty, I had gotten along fairly well for myself. I had one or two failed relationships in the intervening years before she came back with a little surprise.

My 21st birthday was pretty boring when you get right down to it. Yeah, I got some nice presents from my Mom, but all the CDs in the world couldn't make up for the fact that my first apartment sucked ass. I had my old furniture from my bedroom, but a desk and a cheap futon does not a good home make. My job was paying enough for me to kepe up on the rent, and I had a little bit left to cover my cable and electric bills, and thank goodness water and gas were included. But other than that, my life was one of strugling, paycheck to paycheck. I did win $50 bucks on a Lottery scratcher once, but all that went into food for my used refridgerator. It worked OK, but was missing a freezer door, and a couple of shelves. It was this shithole that Misty stepped into 6 months after my 21st birthday. She looked like hell, like she'd been dragged through a landfill. She smelled like the Methodone clinic down the street. The bundle of clothing she held gingerly in her arms started to move and I realized she was holding a baby. She looked at me with tear filled eyes. "I'm so sorry Scott. I fucked up. I really fucked up bad. I got hooked on X, and I let them, so many of them fuck me. I don't who her daddy is," she looked down at the smiling, blisfully ignorant child in her arms. A little girl. "I named her Chloe. My aunt Chloe died on 9/11," she said, handing the child to me. I held her in my arms, and it felt good, I must say. She was a beautiful baby. She had green eyes like her mother. I looked deep into her eyes and smiled. She smiled back. "She likes me," I said, chukcling. I found it silly that a guy who was still a virgin would be standing here holding a child as if it were his. I wanted to ask Misty what her middle name was. I don't know why this was the only thing I could think of. She handed me a piece of paper then with wobbling legs and tears streaming down her cheeks she ran out of my apartment and out of my life. I sometimes think if I'd lived anywhere other than the ground floor of the complex, she would've gone over the balcony. I guess I'll never know because I never saw her again. And to be honest, for a very long time I hated her for what she did. When I looked down at the birth certificate for Chloe, this little girl who was for all intents and purposes my daughter now, I was shocked. She had put MY name, Scott Yates, down as the father. The baby started to cry, and I had the urge to join her.