shoulders and the guys cup our waists in a display of mutual rigor mortis. Amy calls this the Dance of the Dying Cockroach.
But slow-dancing with Wes exceeds all expectations. On the dance floor he holds me so close I can rest my head on his chest, which makes the obligatory swaying actually feel really sensual. Occasionally he eases his fingers under the straps of my dress and strokes my lower back, which turns me on so much it takes all my self-control not to grab his ass and grind up against him. I love that people are looking at us, wondering who that lucky girl is.
We spend two hours at Amy’s after-party, which is longer than we planned. I think we’re both nervous about tonight and are trying to delay the inevitable, but we’re also having a fantastic time. Amy and Paul brought in two dozen cakes from The Bubble Room. They also set up Dance Dance Revolution and karaoke, and it’s hilarious watching all the drunk EFM-ers attempt to dance to the beat and rap in time with the music. But when one of the girls starts belting out Donna Summer’s “Dim All the Lights,” Wes and I both start to get antsy.
I ask Wes to get the car and pick me up in front of Paul’s house so I won’t have to walk the five blocks in my heels. Meanwhile, I find Amy to say goodbye. As we hug she whispers, “Don’t get discouraged if tonight’s no good. Doing it for the first time rarely is for the girl. And remember you don’t have to go through with it. You can always change your mind at the last second.”
“I know, I know. I won’t do anything I don’t want to.” I’m still stunned I’m about to go further than Amy ever has. I guess she is too since her eyes are starting to overflow.
“Oh, Ames, don’t.”
“I’m sorry,” she laughs through her tears. “I just can’t believe how fast the time’s gone, you know? It’s almost May.”
“I can’t believe it either.” Suddenly the prospect of having sex seems almost like a death sentence for the person I’ve been all my life up until this night. A part of me wishes I could be an innocent brace-faced freshman again, just for a few minutes, anyway.
“Now don’t you start crying either,” Amy admonishes me while dabbing her eyes. “You’ve got a long night of bronco riding ahead of you, cowgirl.”
I sniffle and grin. “Way to kill a tender moment.”
“You know I’m hopeless,” she says, shaking her head in mock shame.
We hug again before I leave to walk down the beach and up the wooden staircase to the street. As I come over the dune, I see Wes is already waiting, his eyes and the Explorer glowing the same neon blue in the moonlight.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.”
We start going at it in the tiny hallway of our hotel room. Within seconds my lipstick is all over Wes’s face, and I have to order him to stop for a minute so we can delicately take off and hang up our expensive outfits—the last clothes we’ll wear as virgins. As soon as I close the closet doors he lifts me up high over his head, carries me to the bed, and throws me on it. We’re both laughing, but I’m amazed to see him this brazen and aggressive. I remember one of the first things I wondered about him the day we met was if he could bench me. I guess he can.
I spot the chocolates the maid left on our pillows. After popping one in my mouth, I pierce the outer shell with my teeth and let the runny hazelnut filling wash over my tongue.
“Kith shme,” I say.
He looks at me askance.
“Pleeeeshe?” I give him puppy eyes.
“All right. Why not?”
And it tastes so good. It gets all over our chins and drips onto our chests. Some dribbles onto my
breasts, and Wes tries licking it off, only to get us both dirtier. I wonder if all couples get this kinky this fast.
“That is the only way to eat chocolate,” Wes says. “I think we’re going to have to shower together.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Uh-huh. But later.”
Wes climbs on top of me. We’re kissing almost brutally with our tongues and teeth, sucking each other’s lips and chins as we grab at each other’s torsos with clenched fingers. Then I mutter through my kisses that the stuff is in the nightstand.
Wes sits up, opens the drawer, rips open a condom, and rolls it on quickly even though his hands are shaking. When he gets back on top of me, I feel some of the lube he coated the condom with rubbing off on my thighs. I wrap my legs around him and raise my hips, but he doesn’t move.
“This is the point where I was hoping my masculine animal instincts would kick in.”
“This all feels fine so far. You know, normal.”
“Dom, I’m really scared this is going to be painful for you.”
I am too, but more than that I’m excited. “I’m sure all the, you know, fingering stuff we’ve been doing already kinda broke me in. I’ll tell you if it hurts.”
“Okay,” he says warily.
“Hey, Wes, are you having any doubts about this?”
“No, are you?”
“No. This feels so right to me.”
“I love you, Dom.”
There, the final piece of the jigsaw.
He shakes his head. “It’s insane how much I love you. I never knew I could feel this way.”
“I love you too,” I say quietly, holding back my tears. It feels so good to have said it, finally, and to be this honest and exposed. It’s like I’ve discovered the meaning of life—to love and be loved. Sure, my parents and I love each other, but we have no choice. We’re family. Love seems so much more special when it comes from someone who has no obligation to feel it.
The next few seconds are pretty awkward as I try to reposition my pelvis to accommodate his angle, and Wes is careful not to put excessive weight on me. Finally, I feel him enter me slightly.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I say. “It doesn’t hurt.”
“Okay.” He slowly eases in a little more. It doesn’t feel that much different than if it were his index and
middle fingers. But then he shoves into me at full force.
“Ow! Get off!” I shout.
He jumps off the bed. “Oh crap, I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be,” I say as I curl up in the fetal position. “I’m sorry I yelled.”
“Shit, did I hurt you bad?”
Yeah, it hurt like hell.
“Just a little.”
I turn on the nightstand lamp and pull the blanket up over my knees to shield my lower body from Wes’s view. I don’t see any blood on the sheets, but there are a couple of red drops on my inner thighs. I smear them away with my fingers and sink back into the pillow. Then Wes lies down next to me. We are silent for a minute.
“Wes, we just had sex.” I laugh and groan at the same time.
“Well, it was kinda crummy.”
“It wasn’t crummy! The first time is supposed to be weird—if it were great on the first try, we’d have nothing to aim for later.”
“Uh…you want to try again?”
I do, but I also want to wash off my heavy prom makeup and remove all the bobby pins from my hair, so I tell Wes I’ll just be a few minutes in the bathroom.
Once there, I let the faucet run and study myself in the mirror. I’m not sure what to think. My body doesn’t feel any different. I gaze down at my arms and stomach and legs, and I don’t look any different.
But I am different. I just had sex. My vagina had a penis inside of it. I wonder if my Shorr friends and teachers will detect it somehow, or my mom and dad for that matter. It’s going to feel so weird being sexually active, living in the same apartment with the two people who had to have sex to create me.
I turn the water on higher as I cry a little. A part of me does feel like I’ve just lost something precious—I think of Grandma equating virginity with a white wedding dress, and I wonder if Wes will be the one I marry. He has to be. Who else could it be? I bet Wes would be a great dad one day, very hands-on and loving. His parents would be fantastic grandparents too. I imagine them in their pastel sweatsuits babysitting, giving our k
ids piggyback rides and showing them how to build with blocks.
I take my Grandma’s emerald ring off my right hand and put it on my left ring finger for a minute. As I hold out my hand and admire it, I think how funny it is that of all the people I know, I—little Miss Science Quiz priss—am the least likely to have lost it on prom night, with a state champion sprinter jock, of all people.
After peeing, washing my face, and brushing out my hair-sprayed hair, I crawl back into bed with a sleeping Wes. I kiss him on the mouth until he awakens.
“You were really out,” I say once he opens his eyes.
“It’s no surprise.” He yawns. “I ran harder in the last week than I have all semester. My legs are so sore I can’t feel my feet.”
“Oh, really? Well, that means you won’t be bothered if… I tickle them! ”
Before I get a chance to tickle anything, Wes whizzes up, seizes my wrists, and throws me down on the bed. Soon we are having sex again, but this time he is moving in and out very, very slowly. We’re able to go for a full two minutes before I tell him to stop because I’m too sore down there but that we can try again in the morning.
It’s three a.m. at this point. We call the concierge and order a ten a.m. wake-up call since checkout’s at noon. Then we pull the blankets up over us and lie quietly in each other’s arms. Our first whole night together.
We’re about to drift off when Wes holds me tighter and says groggily, “Just so you know, this has been the best day of my life.”
And it was mine too.
Subject:
Date: Monday, August , : p.m.
Dear Dom,
Just finished my last day at the library. All in all it was a good summer gig, but I can’t wait to get out of Fort Myers, which feels like a ghost town now that you’re en route to Tulane. First thing I’ll unpack in New York is my awesome new cologne! I showed it to my parents this morning, and they love the smell too. I should have thought to get you a going-away gift also, but I’m bad when it comes to those things. I wish you had something besides a cheap mood ring to remember me by.
Some good news. I talked to the people at student employment today, and they’re going to let me lifeguard at NYU’s pool! I’m relieved I didn’t end up with a cafeteria job.
Missing you, Wes
Subject:
Date: Tuesday, August , : p.m.
Hey boyfriend,
Greetings from the Big Easy! I just tracked your flight on my laptop, and in only two hours you’ll be in the Big Apple! A huge part of me wishes I were sitting in the seat next to you, planning and plotting our four-year NYC adventure, but there’s no need to get into all of that again. This was the most practical, logical decision, and I’m excited about what’s next.
I guess you can say I survived the drive over, but being confined for thirteen hours with Mom and Dad in the car was trying. Whenever I got sad, though, all I had to do was hold my mood ring, which I love btw, and I felt better.
Tonight we’re crashing at a bed-and-breakfast in the French Quarter. I want to stay up until you land, but I better get to sleep since tomorrow we’re waking up at the crack of dawn to beat the dorm move-in rush. I’m counting down the days until Thanksgiving break () and Xmas break (). Yuck. Write or call me soon!!!!!!! I love you, Dom
P.S. It’s weird to be e-mailing you again after all these months! But that’s how it all started, eh?;-) P.P.S. Congrats on the lifeguard job! I had no idea you were even certified! You see? Even after all this time I’m still learning new things about you.
Subject: NYU, baby! (note my new e-mail address)
Date: Wednesday, August , : p.m.
Hey Dom,
It’s great to be back in the City, although I had no idea how much I’d gotten used to the quiet of Florida. Last night after my grandparents took me back to their loft, I kept waking up to every car alarm and ambulance siren.
Jess and one of her French major friends helped me move in this morning. I brought only four suitcases, so I was unpacked in less than an hour. My roommate, Gerard, is from Ghana (Africa)! I thought I had a long plane ride. He’s a good guy, plans to major in theater. He saw our prom pic on my desk and said in his Ghanaian accent (which almost sounds French), “Whoa, she’s beautiful, man.” I told him not to get any ideas.;-)
I’m going to the campus store now to pick up a few things.
I love you, W
P.S. I’ll call you tonight after our hall meeting.
Subject: Tulane so far
Date: Thursday, August , : p.m.
Dear Ames,
Forgive the e-mail but I have only a couple hundred minutes left, and I want to use them sparingly until they get replenished Sept. .
I can’t believe we’re actually in college! It’s finally happening! My roommate, Caitlin, moved in last night, and not to jinx it, but she seems very sweet and considerate. She even offered to stay with Chapin, her boyfriend of FOUR YEARS and a junior here, whenever Wes visits! Chapin is six five, and Caitlin’s only five feet, so they’re a funny-looking couple, but they’re really into each other. He plays cello and she plays viola, and they met in orchestra at their high school in Baton Rouge.
As for Tulane itself, I’m feeling good. I’m a little envious of Caitlin for having her bf with her, but I’m also afraid Tulane will just be a continuation of high school for her rather than a new experience. Don’t get me wrong. I’m thinking about Wes /. Most of all, I’m still really humiliated about how I screwed up on Sunday at Captiva. My head was literally down there, Ames. I was hovering over it, but for some reason I just couldn’t bring myself to take it in my mouth. What’s crazy is that it should have been a breeze. I mean, we’ve made love times since prom! I know Wes said it was fine I wasn’t ready yet, but it was our last night together, and I wanted everything to be perfect.
On top of everything, Wes already saw the dog-girl, and he’s going to be a campus lifeguard! I spent all summer paranoid about the Southwest Florida College girls flirting with him at the library, and now I hate the NYU swim team and am wishing dog-girl drops out of Columbia and goes back to Texas. I feel so weird hating someone I’ve never even met before. Oh, and my parents gave me the trillionth “You’re too young to be serious so keep your eyes open and embrace your surroundings” speech. Ugh!
I don’t mean to sound sad, it’s just Wes Withdrawal. Besides that I’m really pumped. Anyway, how’s New England treating you? Any new notches on your bedpost? Or should I say cotpost?
I miss you very much, Dom
Subject: Thank you for your help!
Date: Friday, August , : p.m.
Dear Mom (please read to Dad too),
I just wanted to write and thank you both for helping me move in, you esp., Dad, for taking off work.
You’ll be glad to know I registered for bio and chem today. I’m determined to give premed a fair shot even though I’m still on the fence about it. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll just major in something fun, like glass blowing with a minor in ballroom dance. Just kidding! But they really do offer those classes here!
I’ve met a ton of new people in the last couple of days. Overall everyone’s really nice, except there’s this one spoiled brat on my hall who’s never used a washing machine before(!!), let alone a communal one, and she’s disgusted she has to share a hall bathroom with us. Four other girls on my hall already requested roommate changes! People can be so catty.
Anyway, I have yet another orientation meeting to go to, so I better get going. Say hi to Grandma too.
I’ll call her when I’m a little more settled in. Talk to you soon.
Love, Dom
Subject: WE’RE COLLEGE GIRLS NOW!!!
Date: Friday, August , : p.m.
Dear Dom,
I’m writing this from Amherst’s fine arts building. I just found out we’re gonna have nude male models in our drawing class! To quote Little Orphan Annie, I think I’m gonna like it here.
That’s hilarious about Chapin and Caitlin�
�s height difference. I wonder how they . My roommate, Soo May, seems really nice too and plans to major in computer science. She’s lived in Massachusetts all her life, but her family’s Malaysian.
I wouldn’t worry about Gersh being a lifeguard. I’m sure he’ll take the job just as seriously as he did track and won’t goof around. If you’re still concerned, send a letter to the NYU swim team saying Gersh has a New Orleans girlfriend who’s learning voodoo and is not afraid to use it! But seriously, you spent all of April doing the pro-con thing with both schools, and I still think you made the right decision.
I also wouldn’t worry about the non–blow job. Believe me, it could’ve been A LOT worse. The first time I went down on a guy I was too into it and almost bit it off! What I would be worried about is your non–Big O. It’s just not fair he’s the only one who’s been getting off. I know your excuse—“just loving Wes is orgasm enough.” Well, whatever makes you happy, but you can’t be afraid to lose control and let your body go.
But on to the big news of the week: I’ve hooked up with only guy so far! Joel lives in my dorm, he’s going to be a fine arts major too, his bod’s totally ripped, and he’s from Kansas, which makes sense since he can do the tornado with his tongue. :P~ Last night we hardly hooked up at all! We just talked and talked. I never thought I’d be pairing off with someone this soon in this buffet of Amherst guys, but I really like him. Maybe soon we’ll both be nonvirgins!
Your best friend always who misses you terribly, Amy
Subject: Miss you
Date: Friday, August , : p.m.
Hey Dom,
There’s a huge party going on down at the NYU Student Center right now, and here I am, sitting in my room like the wuss I am. You’d think after moving so much as a kid, I’d be a pro at meeting new people.
Anatomy of a Boyfriend Page 12