Losing Virginity

by Ava Michaels

  ………

  I walked into the bedroom to see Jess lying in her underwear on the floor.

  "Please, put some clothes on once in a while, or else I'm going to start thinking that you are going 'Alisha' on me," I said while kicking her gently in the ribs.

  She moaned.

  "I’ve got clothes on. Underclothes! Don’t you wear them?" she joked. "Where have you been?"

  I pulled out the bottle of Jameson and showed her.

  "Oh, my boyfriend. You found him!"

  She pulled the bottle away from me and started curling up with it in a manner that I was not comfortable with if I was going to be drinking from it later.

  "Hey, hey. Foreplay comes first," I joked, swatting her ass and taking the bottle from her.

  "So how was class?" I asked.

  "Oh, you know. Anthro was easy..."

  I snorted.

  "Anthro was easy because you weren't there!" I shouted. "However, you would have loved this one. It was about the mating rituals of the Yanomami tribe."

  Jess oohed and sat cross legged on the floor, waiting to hear more.

  "Yea, Professor Tunde was really hot today. Sweating and everything..."

  Jess wailed, hugging her legs and falling back on the floor.

  "What an amazing man..," she gaped. Then she paused and looked at me. "However... you didn't tell me everything. I've been here for more than half an hour. You didn't just buy a bottle of my boyfriend, did you?"

  I blushed. I was an 18 year-old who blushed like I was Molly in the Breakfast Club.

  "I talked with Hector for a while."

  "Oooh! Talked. Is that what you call it?" she wiggled, making noises like she was watching the best show in the world. "How was he?"

  I shook my head. Her one track mind seriously needed a derailment.

  "I didn't do that. We just talked."

  "Just talked with your south mouths?" she said, leering in a way that was very unbecoming for a woman.

  "No. And that is disgusting," I said, brushing imaginary dust off my shoulder. "I don't go in for guys like that."

  "Guys like that!?" she laughed, pulling the bottle away from me and pouring out two shots for us. "What do you mean 'guys like that'? Hector is an investment."

  "What? What do you mean an investment?"

  "He is the sort of guy that if you fuck now, you can always fuck later and land him just in case he becomes the CEO of Google or something," Jess said while pouring two more shots carefully. "Guys are like flooring, or so the old biddy's say, and they are always right: lay 'em right once and you can walk all over them the rest of your life."

  We laughed, clinked our shots and threw them back. I was still a novice to drinking whiskey straight, and it felt warm going all the way down. Drinking was never my game but my roommates continued to try and push it.

  Jess put on some music, Rihanna, to my ambivalence. I didn't personally like Rihanna. But I knew there were worse things to have playing in the background. Jess took another swig of the bottle; a champion we have here, ladies and gentlemen.

  "So you aren't interested in Hector, the cute guy at your work is gay, you are too afraid to have a 'liaison' with our Anthropology professor... What exactly are you looking for, girl?"

  I stopped to think. Yeah, I guess I had pushed a few potential guys away at a point in my life where I was supposed to be really finding out what I want in a man, partner, whatever.

  "I don't know. I know I don't want any of them, because I am not sure I want the first man to be someone who is close to me or like a drifter," I said.

  My eyes grew wide to enhance the mystery. That was the honest truth, maybe infused with the liquor I just drank, but it was honest. I was too much of a coward to give my virginity to someone I might know because what if it was bad? What if it was something that he insisted should be something more? What if I insisted it should be something more? Maybe it was better to just get it over with?

  My sex brain was beginning to annoy myself as bad as the Kardashians do.

  "We should start a little experiment," Jess said deviously, stroking an imaginary handlebar mustache on her evil, grinning face. "I actually have a project in Social Psychology class. I thought I could do a study of dating websites."

  Oh no. This was Jess’ idea? I hadn't known Jess long, but she had ideas that generally ended up being great stories but terrible experiences.

  "How 'bout we set you up debutante style," Jess said.

  Jess was from the South. Although she was a very metropolitan girl and really could not be considered a 'hick' or 'redneck', she still had a strange culture passed down to her from her grandmother and mother.

  A debutante ball was the Southern equivalent of selling off their marriageable age daughters. It felt crude, but also old school classy. I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Lots of feminists might consider it a form of slavery. But, what woman in her right mind wouldn’t be thrilled to get all dolled up to be the center of attention? It was very aristocratic. Generally younger ladies ready to be debuted were introduced to society formally and were to display how ready they were for a marriage to a man they didn't know.

  I loved it and hated it. I would be the IT girl. I would also be seen as the newest entrant to 'society', which I assumed I had already joined.

  Jess watched my hesitation, and like a good poker player, bet more.

  "If you do not land a guy before the end of the semester, then I am allowed to throw you the most audacious debutante ball that was ever thrown north of the Mason-Dixon line, girl!"

  I couldn't argue with that. A virginity party that struck its name in the history books? But also a public declaration of being a virgin...

  "Deal," I said with more confidence than I had.

  Jess yelped and giggled and ran to her computer.

  "Where are you going?" I said.

  "I’m going to make an online dating profile for you. We need you to go through a few bad ones before you are ready for whatever good ones," she wisely intoned.

  That made sense. Practice.

  "So, you are twenty two, stacked and ready to fuck," Jess said.

  "Okay. No." I grabbed her hands off the keyboard. She smiled up at me kindly.

  “Do you think I’d really put that? I want you to have fun, not get attacked.”

  She continued with my profile settings. I had a job. I was continuing college and I liked cats. I could imagine thousands of other men who shared the same traits with me and were hiding bodies underneath their porches.

  Jess uploaded a very charming photo of me that was taken by her when we decided to spend an entire snowed-in day in our beds, watching Woody Allen movies. It was a bit too intimate for me, but Jess wouldn't budge on it. She answered a few questions for me, getting it right for the most part although I feel like I should put less out there on the internet. Oh well and so it began.

  On with the show. Little did I know it would be the Barnum and Bailey freak show.

  -----------Chapter 6-----------

  The sparse rooms that served as the offices for We Can Do It! were curiously empty for a weekday morning. Of course, this didn't mean anything less would be expected from me. In fact, knowing Battle-Axe Betty, this would mean quite a lot more would be expected of me. And I still had enough homework left to choke a horse.

  Then it hit me. I realized that it was a Friday morning. Thirsty Thursdays did not make for well-staffed Fridays. Or even for classes with more than one-half in attendance. This was something I was sure the teachers on-campus and the bosses off-campus had accepted long ago, but somehow I still never was sharp enough or bold enough to skip out on Friday mornings because of a sore throat.

  I trudged into the offices. No one had even made coffee.

  After my talk with Jess a week ago, my initial impression of the welcome into the online dating world of OKCupid and my terror of not being able to fulfill my end of the bet with Jess, giving her free reign to basically pimp me out, I was exhausted. If a
girl spent this much time thinking about sex ... scratch that. If a girl spent this time worrying about sex, sex that she'd NEVER had, how was she ever supposed to sustain work and school at the same time? I had heard it joked about so many times before that you can't do them both unless you're poor and then you usually manage to.

  "KIIIITRIIIDGE!"

  Bartok. The sound of her shrieking was as recognizable as Professor - that is, Michael - Tunde's bourbon and chocolate syrup tone. Her always accusatory voice rang through the small one-floor office like a banshee that had just broke loose under a full moon in search of warm blood. I half expected the building's windows to shatter.

  As I trudged towards her office, not failing to notice the judgmental stares the rest of the staff was giving me - all quick, mortified glances before the studious lowering of heads - I couldn't help but think that Jess’ little lecture from last night was about to be repeated to me, this time in a rasping nicotine hiss.

  Alex's eyes seemed to be completely shut, as far as I could tell. The usually impeccably-dressed and swishing Latin boy-monger staggered towards me, using any available body or desktop for support, and leaking papers from the folder he carried all the way. The poor guy smelled like Pabst, KY, and way too much of some sort of perfume ... Definitely not one intended for a guy. He had definitely guerilla-groomed himself on the way out of Dunbar. His hair attested to that.

  "Um. What's going on there with your lip, babe?" I asked him.

  That comment made his eyes open really fast.

  "Oh my god WHAT?" he screamed.

  I was quickly saved by Veronica, pulling Alex aside and comforting the whimpering sack of deflated Mario Lopez, who also had his pink polo on inside out. I wondered what kind of action he had seen last night.

  "It's okay, baby, it's okay," Veronica was cooing while glaring at me as I made my way down to Betty’s office.

  Alex had a serious cold sore, and I had made the mistake of mentioning it. My friend was now a gibbering hair-gelled, lubricated, Captain Morgan's, and ladies' perfume-soaked mess on the floor with Veronica trying to bring him back down like the police would a jumper.

  "I'm SURE Olivia will be right back to tell you that little spot ain't no thang. She's just taking it out on you because she’s in trouble with Betty!" she bellowed down the hall.

  Bartok was straddling the front of her desk like the lieutenant in some cheesy 90's cop film, arms crossed. Her pantsuit didn't seem prepared for the aggressive contortions they were being put through, and I just prayed that the thing wouldn't rip.

  She was holding a bronze paperweight in the shape of a WWII-era grenade that was really cylindrical and really notched. I just hoped she wasn't going to throw it at me.

  "Hi Olivia."

  I nodded as I stood awkwardly in the door.

  “Come in and shut the door, please.”

  Her voice was way too soft for comfort. I did as I was told and when she motioned for me to take a seat I flopped down, letting out a big sigh like this was just a waste of my time. I looked up at her and waited for her to begin.

  "Olivia, are you happy here? Is there something going on with school or at home that is distracting you?" she asked.

  I was not prepared for this.

  “No. Nothing’s wrong. I’m happy hear,” I mumbled, barely scraping up the enthusiasm needed to make my words sound convincing.

  “Yesterday afternoon I went to check your progress and you had these three files out of order.”

  “Three files out of the entire four drawers I have completed so far?”

  “Yes, Olivia, three files.”

  Was she for real? I was called into a ‘come in and shut the door’ meeting for three misfiled files? I wanted to pat myself on the back and smile right in her face saying ‘that’s great because I was really out of it and positive I misfiled at least half the files. Three…Well, hell, I should get a raise…If I wasn’t an intern working for FREE.’ It's perfectly legal to be stupid at times but some people just completely take advantage, like her. You’d think with smart phones, smart cars, and smart televisions... We’d start making smart people. I wanted to say it to her, but I held my tongue.

  “You see, Olivia, this kind of carelessness could have cost someone a lot of time searching. Searching because of your mistake.”

  I nodded my head up and down and displayed not one emotion. She wasn’t going to get the best of me.

  “Why do you think you made this mistake?”

  WHAT? I screamed in my head. I looked at her like she had lobsters coming out of her ears.

  “Uh, because it was…A mistake…And…I didn’t realize I did it? That’s what makes it a mistake, I think.”

  “The next time you have a problem with a project I assign you, just ask someone for help. I know you feel you don’t need to but if it helps avoid this kind of problem then do it.” Her tone was rude.

  “Well,” I felt myself approaching the cliff, but would I jump off? My mouth made the decision for me before my head could stop me.

  “If it is a mistake, then that means it was on accident so I didn’t realize I was having a problem. So, how do you ask for help before I make a mistake? I mean, this is just filing. Lots of numbers sometimes get jumbled together and a person might have a dyslexic moment. Are mistakes not allowed…Anymore?”

  OKAY, it was a little convoluted but I knew what I was saying and I knew I was right.

  Betty narrowed her eyes at me and I thought I’d hear those two words I really didn’t want to hear just yet. Instead she said four words I was very happy to hear.

  “Get back to work.”

  Yup, if you can’t dazzle them with your intellect, baffle them with your bullshit.

  I walked out of her office and it was like those dreams when you are in school completely naked. Everyone was staring at me until they realized I wasn’t crying or shaking or whatever they had expected to see me do. I went back to keep working on my filing project.

  ………

  My shift was over in fifteen minutes. Apparently, there was an IRS audit of the charity on the way, and Betty needed to know that every "I" was dotted and every "T" was crossed and that there were no relevant files missing from the different initiatives that We Can Do It! had taken on. She could have just said that. It would have made me a lot more productive.

  And to make matters worse, the mindless tasks this psychopath had left me with, also left me with little other than my sleep-deprived thoughts for company. I saw Veronica slither past the glass door of the file room a few times, mouthing something amounting to "Oh shit!" I saw Alex's tan, skeletal form only once. His shirt was still on inside out and I assumed he found a bathroom stall to curl up and die in for a while.

  It must be nice. At least he got some ... Or rather, someone got some ass last night.

  I took periodic breaks when I assumed Betty was napping and logged onto one of the office's computers. I checked for messages on my new OKCupid profile a few times. Okay. I checked maybe more than a few times. What can I say? I was desperate.

  Lo and behold, there were indeed two messages at around 4:00. The first message was from the username BigStick... Okay... Talk about putting it right out there. I understand that off the bat. I laughed as I whispered the username. I needed a stick but not by a guy who uses his big stick on a lot of girls…

  ………

  BigStick: Hey there. You seem like a pretty cool girl. Want to come over for a movie night sometime? I should be back in town soon.

  ………

  I was interested in a date… But who knew when he’d be back in town. I wanted to know more about him so I looked at his profile...

  ………

  BIGSTICK

  Ryder

  28/Straight/Single

  Hanover, New Hampshire

  Summary: I'm just a guy, really. I work in the non-profit industry, and that sort of work really appeals to me. There are a lot of people in this world who aren't nearly as privileged as I am and
I think everyone deserves a shot at a good life. After work you might think I'm a different guy, though! I like to have fun, and you never know where you might find me on a Friday night. I want to see as much of the world as I can while I'm still breathing!

  What I'm Doing With My Life: Like I said, I work at a non-profit. Okay, more like I run a non-profit. I also volunteer, when I can find the time, at an animal shelter here in Hanover.

  I'm Really Good At: Deciding what my goals are and going for them! I'm also good at a few other things, but I'll leave those for you to figure out :)

  The first things people usually notice about me: People usually tell me that I come across as a real professional type. Then they tell me how gorgeous my eyes are ;)

  Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food: I have read One Thousand Years of Solitude more times than I care to admit. I also have a secret addiction to Joel Osteen ... I'm not religious, but I really like his outlook on life. I don't go to the movies that often, but I have been known to watch the odd Woody Allen flick on DVD ... the last place you'd ever catch me is in the audience at some summer action blockbuster. I'll listen to literally anything but country! I even find myself listening to a little reggae from time to time, and I have a soft spot for 90's Alternative. As far as food goes - if you cook it for me, I'll eat it! The meat I ate during my summer abroad touring Latin America was totally unbelievable ... if you can cook a steak that even close to measures up to that, I am yours!

  The six things I could never do without: My family, good friends, good scotch, goals, my dog Ernie (I miss him!), my Beats headphones :)

  I spend a lot of time thinking about: How much I can do to make the world a better place. Sometimes I ponder the stars and the speed of light. Sex ... hey, I'm just being honest!

  The most private thing I’m willing to admit: Sometimes I don't wear underwear.

  I’m looking for: Short-term dating, long-term dating.

  ………

  He sounded like he was a good guy, but he also sounded a bit like a vanilla-blank-slate-white-pudding-ghostie-ghost sort of guy. Maybe that's how everyone is in their OkCupid profiles. I mean, I wrote that I liked Ani DiFranco. He had no facial hair which I liked. He was WAY better looking than the guys that were attracted to me. What the hell, it was worth a shot.