Losing Virginity (25 page)

"He
lied to you by omission," Alex said. "But you're right.
Is'sstill
pretty much a lie."

“And
now… Now I’m
gonna
get fleas...” I started laughing
but at the same time a brand new bunch of tears came running down my cheeks as
if there was something chasing them out of my eyes.

"Baby,
you need to take some time away from that and get your head straight,"
Veronica said. "I mean, you were just looking to lose your V-card, right?
Count this one as a win and find yourself a new man who will tell you the
truth. There are plenty of good fucks out there Ol."

That
made sense… I was just looking for that… And had been a good first time, even
though it turned sour in the end… There was only one Big Stick though…

I
think Woody Allen said that sex is better than talk and talk is what you suffer
through so you can get to sex… I wanted talking though. Losing my virginity was
over.

I
don’t know but I was glad my friends were there to get hammered with.

“I’m
glad you guys are here.” I leaned over and hugged them both awkwardly while
pulling the bottle of
SoCo
from Veronica. “You guys…
You guys are the shit. I mean it. Alex, you are so wonderful. If you weren’t
gay, I would do you. I would. And V. If I was gay, I’d totally stalk you.
Totally.”

“That’s
what friends are for,” Alex piped up. And sadly, that chapter of the evening
ended with the three of us slurring the lyrics to the horrible 80’s song of the
same title.

………

I
called up Jess and told her where to meet us, while Veronica and Alex told me
shockingly honest hook up stories. Every hole was covered, literally.

I
didn’t slow down on the alcohol. Feelings weren’t something I needed.

Jess
came with some beer and called her man Mario, who was now apparently her
boyfriend, to come with some hotdogs and fuel for a fire. Apparently she had
him on a bit of a short leash. Good for her. Once they arrived the stories of
terrible boyfriends and girlfriends and everything in between were shared. When
a round of tales about bondage and domination circled the group, Jess showed
knowledge just a little beyond an amateur.

"I
actually had my first bondage experience before I lost my virginity," Jess
said. "I was with a guy in high school who liked to be tied up and forced
to eat gummy worms and told he was a 'baby bird'." We all laughed even we
knew she was stretching the truth and passed the
SoCo
around.

Farther
into the night we started talking about marriage customs.

"Do
you know that in Finland, when a girl is ready to marry, she carries an empty
sheath around her belt," I said, a tad bit drunkenly. "When a man
wants to show her he wants her, he makes a knife and shuts it in her
peath
.” I burped. “I mean puts it in her sheath?”

I
said the last part a bit suggestively, even though everyone was quite aware of
the metaphor.

"That's
great and you’re drunk," Veronica said and everyone nodded their head.

“I
know you are but what am I?” I said defiantly.

Then
Alex began to grin mischievously.

"You
know, in the South they still have 'debutante balls', where young ladies ready
to marry were debuted to society in a big party. All of the men would dance
with them and it is sort of like a 'throwing her to the wolves' sort of
situation," Jess said, looking around at everyone but me, in a silent
acknowledgement of the humiliation they were all gearing up to inflict on me.

”Nope!
Nope! None of that! That shits for virgins! Go find yourself a virgin and do it
for her. Thank you very much!” I rattled back, a bit too loud and everyone
laughed.

"Oh
my gosh, yes. One week from now, debutante ball, the Bema amphitheater in the
college park," she gushed. "Mario's friend works for a tent and party
company in town."

Mario
grinned.

"It
can be done," was all he said and I knew I was sunk.

"No,"
I tried to stop the snowball that was building. "Hell fucking no."

"You
need this, Ol," Veronica said. "When a horse bucks you, you just need
to get right back on."

Alex
mouthed the word 'nice' at her and they all continued to talk right over me.

“Okay,
it will really be just an open air
kegger
with a
dress code,” Jess insisted, “but you will be the maid of honor! The hostess
with the
mostess
!
The star
attraction!”

“Great.
I’ll be like the bearded lady of Dartmouth. Step right up,
gadies
and
lents
. See the freakiest
freak in the freak show…You fuckers.”

“Exactly!”
squealed Jess.

That
was it. They were planning a
kegger
to help fix my
broken heart. Sorry, a
kegger
with a dress code.
Hopefully I would get some sexy guy who would screw the living daylights out of
me. No more Big Stick.

-----------Chapter
17-----------

Thursday
it was, I guess. It had been a long week. Fuck
it,
it
had been an interminable week. Ignoring Big Stick’s daily calls, texts, and
voice messages was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, but somehow I
managed to, miserable as I was.

I
listened to all the voicemails I received:

“Hey,
Ol… I’m not sure what to say, but, um… You sure didn’t give me much of a chance
to say it. Call me?”

“Ol,
it’s Ryder again… Is there any way I could steer my vessel onto campus tonight
and hail ye…? Shit … Sorry. That was lame. I’d love to hear from you.”

And,
finally one came, which I shared with Jess and Veronica. That was when I forced
myself to stop listening to them out of sheer fatigue and confusion and
longing:

“Hi, Bright Eyes.
I
mighta
fucked up. Maybe you could just let me know that
you’re not dead or something?”

There
was a really long pause in this one. And it killed me.

“I
dunno
. I’ve got some really great times to remember,
I guess. I’ve never done this sort of a thing with a girl, Ol… I don’t mean
this to be like some sort of confessional, but I feel like I should tell you…
Shit, I sound like such a shit. Okay, here it goes – I feel like I should tell
you that I’ve been with quite a few girls, I guess
,
if
you really think about it, but… I’ve never tried to find someone this hard.
I’ve never felt this empty after something was over… I mean, I really hope
we’re not over… Just call me please, Ol… I think we might be worth each other’s
time.”

I
was biting my lip by the end of that one and trying desperately to stifle the
hot teardrop threatening to fall from my eyelid and roll
down
my cheek.

………

In
the middle of
Chote’s
“common room” late Friday
afternoon, I was a mess. Plans for parties, drug deals, shouted cell phone
conversations, and hook-ups planned for much later that night was what filled
the air around me as I tried my damnedest to think about something other than Big
Stick…
Even though I was clutching my phone like a madwoman
and swallowing snot and tears.

The
day before “the ball” and Cinderella is crying her eyes out and her make-up off
in the town square. This event was really the last thing in the world I wanted
to do. And after my drunken rampage that took me two days to recover from, I
certainly wasn’t interested in going to a
kegger
with
a fancy dress code.

“He’s
a liar. Mm-mm,” Veronica exclaimed, giving me a disgusted look and wagging a
lethally accusatory finger in my face. I gave her as much smile as I could
manage at the moment and pushed her hand away as I pocketed my phone. Veronica
was being theatrical, but she was being supportive, and at the time, I welcomed
it.

Alex
was behind me rubbing my shoulders incessantly and making empathetic moans, and
I could feel the energetic nods he was giving Veronica with every point she
made about how I was “better than that asshole,” and “too good for him” and all
the other clichés used to make a chick feel better after being dumped. They
never really work, but they are nice efforts non-the-less.

Veronica
and Jess had been trying relentlessly to lift me out of my post-Big Stick
stupor all week, but I knew that there were ulterior motives.

Tomorrow
night was the big Debutante Ball/
Kegger
.

Ironic
or not, the advertising by Alpha Delta had really caught on. Glumly trying to
make it to Professor Tunde’s class Tuesday and Thursday evenings, I would
inevitably be crossed by a wild pack of sluts giggling ecstatically about how
Friday night was just going to be so hot, and how all their friends should
“totally screw Phi Mu Delta”, cause this sounded like so much more fun.

I
had to hand it to Veronica and Jess. They definitely had outdone themselves.
Whether it was mostly the work of the social network or just their connections
on campus, somehow word of the debutante ball had spread far and wide.

“Guys,
I’ll be okay, I swear,” I mumbled unconvincingly to the friends who flanked me.
“And yes, I promise I’ll be at the ball.”

I
felt Alex’s hand noticeably loosen its grip on my shoulder.

“Ooh,
baby!” he squealed. “You’re going to be the hottest item in that house
tomorrow! You won’t be able to think about ‘ding dong’ you’ll have so many
swinging dicks in your face.”

Veronica
was already strutting back out of
Chote’s
, eyes on
every piece of man flesh she encountered,
 
hand on her hip and satisfied that I would be at her party to end all
parties.

“Just
be there, bitch,” she called over her shoulder. “You know where to find me if
you need help with your dress or some shit. Forget that foo.’ Your beautiful
ass has better things to worry about.”

I
knew what she was trying to do. She was giving me no quarter, no sympathy. She
was trying to keep me going, to get me to that glorified whore auction. It was
bound to be a disaster, but Veronica was adamant about my attendance; she would
accept nothing less than my complete and total immersion in a sea of “jams” and
dicks. The salves she always offered my wounds were never what I needed, but it
meant a lot, and I did need something to take my mind off Big Stick.

I
put a smile on and let Alex bring me up to my apartment. Luckily, Jess had
taken a night off from Mario and was already hard at work on her beauty sleep
in preparation for the ball. Alex kissed me on the cheek and told me to just
“sleep on it” and I took his advice, but to be honest, it was still a very long
night thinking about Big Stick… The things his body did to me...

………

The
next afternoon passed by in a flash, with Veronica and Alex electrically
buzzing around my apartment bedroom, dressing me, fretting about their own
outfits, and soon, there we were. We were going to the ball. I felt like a
lousy version of a Disney princess.
A little more
whorey
too.

I
couldn’t believe I was doing it, but there I was in a pretty cute one-shoulder
black and red dress that you would expect to see at a spring formal or prom
with a silver floral asymmetrical strap and a tiered chiffon skirt and ruffled
hemline. I grabbed my chest and smiled at the way my puppies… Yes, my puppies…
Stood to attention.
I added my highest red heels, red
lipstick, and an “I’m too sexy for this ball” attitude. Damn I looked good. I’d
be reciting that over and over in my head in hopes guys would think so too.
Maybe I could find a rebound.

I
looked at the beautiful trees, oak and hemlock, that made up the college
forest. Someone spent years perfecting the layout and landscaping here. I was
glad for things like this, the simple things.

In
the distance I could see little candles lighting the way through the forest,
drawing a path through the darkness to the gala that was surely underway
already in the heart of the forest. This was so cheesy… What hell was I doing?

Alex
took my right arm, holding it as if he was walking me down the aisle.

“Wow,
Alex. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were the real belle of the ball.”

He
had a rakish little tuxedo on, with a thin slice of a tie. His toned down suit
was not what I had imagined Alex as wearing, but I guess when we dress up, we
become different people. His shoes were so shined that I could see myself in
them. Alex looked exceptionally classy tonight as most gay guys do. He looked
down at me and with real gratitude in his voice and a little surprise at my
sincerity and said “Thank you, Olivia.”

Veronica
took my other arm. It looks like I was going to have two people giving me away
tonight. Veronica wore a backless, black slip dress with heels that made her
amazing calves stand out like Achilles’. She was an impressive sight tonight,
dolled up in muted blue eyeliner and rouge. I wished I had the confidence to
dress like her.