The Best Laid Plans(2)
I’m a virgin too, but this isn’t surprising enough to be news.
I can see the moment right when she decides to tell me. She smiles and it spills over her face like light filling up a dark room, and she’s so stunning I feel it in my chest. Her eyes are sparkling as she turns to me. I can see the secret brimming in her, like bubbles in a glass of champagne.
“Okay, so maybe he got me,” she says. “Guess who’s finally a woman.”
“Wow.” I’m suddenly unable to find the right words. “That’s . . . congrats. Way to go!” I don’t know why I’ve turned into a cheesy greeting card instead of a real, functioning human. Wishing you all the best on your journey. Reach for the stars! She must not find it too weird because she continues talking like I haven’t said anything.
“It didn’t even hurt that much. Ava told me she passed out her first time, so I guess I was expecting it to be a little more extreme.” She licks her pointer finger and runs it under her eyes to fix her mascara. “Ava is so dramatic.” If Ava Adams were in this bathroom right now instead of me, she’d know exactly what to say. Ava is Danielle’s favorite. I’m just the one Danielle tolerates.
“Do you like him?” I ask, swishing the now-mostly-empty beer around in my cup.
She doesn’t answer for a few seconds, probably deciding whether it’s worth telling me the truth. Then she shrugs. “It was time. I can’t believe I was a virgin for this long. So embarrassing.”
My cheeks burn at the casual dig. Being a virgin shouldn’t be a big deal—I know that—but the fact that Danielle shared the label with me always made me feel a little better. If Danielle Oliver does something, it automatically shaves five million points off the embarrassment scale.
Ava was the first girl in our class to lose her virginity. She and Jason Ryder did it middle school grad night on the playground behind the big slide. I was horrified back then when I first heard about it. Sex was still something foreign to me, something people did in movies—and not even in the movies I watched. Then other girls started doing it too—Molly Moye lost it to one of her older brother’s best friends, Jessica Rogers to a girl she met over winter break in Vancouver. My friend Hannah lost hers junior year to her boyfriend Charlie. They spent the night at his lake house, lit a bunch of candles, and played her favorite album. Turns out, even Morrissey couldn’t save them.
When we first heard these stories, the rest of us were eager with questions. What did sex feel like? Did it hurt? How did you know what to do? And now Danielle has joined them. Now we’re seniors and the questions are drying up.
Now I’m the only one left.
I can hear the low thumping sound of music downstairs, a high female screech and peal of laughter, a crash as something falls to the floor—a water glass maybe, or a table lamp. I wince, hoping Andrew’s mom won’t kill us, because even though it’s his house and his party, she’ll know I was here. I’m always here.
Danielle grabs a hand towel and scrubs the smudged lipstick from her cheeks. I want to reach out a hand to stop her— Andrew’s mom will flip out about a stained towel, especially after the broken something downstairs—but it doesn’t seem like the time. She leans closer to the mirror and stares. And I swear, her expression is of someone wise—someone who will never again wonder if a boy likes her back, never again get a huge pimple in the middle of her face. Danielle has always been confident, but now she looks unstoppable.
Next to her I still look like I’m twelve years old, even though as of today I’m officially eighteen. I’ve always been ridiculously short, but now I look even smaller because Danielle is wearing these black chunky heels and I’m in my socks; I took my snowy boots off at the door like we were supposed to. I touch my hair—darker blond than usual because I didn’t wash it—cursing myself for thinking some dry shampoo and a ponytail were proper party attire. It’s like I’m setting myself up for failure.
Danielle purses her lips. “Do you think I look older now?” She moves her head back and forth to check out her reflection from all angles. “Now that I’m a woman I really feel older.”
I don’t want to admit to her what I’ve just been thinking, so I cross my eyes, throwing back her question. “Do I look older?” I know birthdays don’t magically change you from one day to the next. Still, there’s a part of me that wants to feel the way Danielle is feeling—I want to be unstoppable too.
She looks at me blankly. “Why would you look older?” Of course she doesn’t remember, even though Hannah brought cupcakes to school today to celebrate and Danielle said the recipe was too eggy. Even though this party is supposed to be for me.
“It’s my birthday.”
She wrenches her gaze away from the mirror and turns to me. “Oops, I totally forgot.” Her hand catches on a tangle in her hair. “Chase was so sweet tonight. He knew it was my first time, so he didn’t rush it.” So we’re back to Chase. I guess I can’t blame her. If I had just lost my virginity, maybe I wouldn’t want to stop talking about it either.
“I’m glad it was just how you imagined,” I say. “There are a lot of jerks at this school. It’s good you found a nice one.”
“I know,” she says, “Chase Brosner.” She grabs my hand and pulls me to the door, unlocking it and yanking it open. “Remember,” she says. “This never happened.”