by Claire Adams
He was quiet for a minute. Then he looked at me again. “Wait a second,” he said. “So if that was the first—and last—time that you were ever kissed by a guy, until now, are you telling me that you’ve never slept with anyone before, either?”
That coming out hadn’t really been part of my plan, either. “Um, yes,” I said. “That’s what I’m telling you.”
“Wow,” he said. “Wow.”
“So have you never met a virgin before or something?” I asked. “You’re acting like this is earth-shattering news.”
“Well, it kind of is. I mean...you’re gorgeous.” I blushed, but I didn’t think he’d be able to tell in the moonlight. “Someone as gorgeous as you usually isn’t a virgin... I mean, I guess it’s possible, but...” His voice trailed off. I could hear the genuine confusion in his voice, as this new revelation had really thrown him for a loop. “I just wasn’t expecting that at all,” he finally said.
“Which makes it sound like you think I’m some sort of slut,” I replied, kind of joking but also sort of not. “Though I heard that you’re the one with herpes.”
“Yeah, that’s completely not true,” he said. “So, I can take a few guesses as to where you heard that—actually, I know exactly where you heard that from—and it’s entirely false.”
“You’re not a virgin, though.”
“No, I’m not. I’m also a 31-year-old man, so that shouldn’t be too surprising.”
“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”
“Fourteen.”
“Fourteen? Really? That’s so young.”
“She was 16. And definitely not a virgin.”
We sat there quietly for several moments, and I tried to replay the past couple minutes in my head. How did we end up on this topic, anyway? Oh yeah—I had bit him. “How’s your tongue?”
“My tongue? Oh, it’s fine. I completely forgot about that, actually.”
“I guess that’s one way to make someone forget about an injury.”
“It’s not that bad.” He regarded me again, squinting. “You’re really a virgin?”
“Maybe we should talk about something else.”
“Sure,” he said. “Sure, that’s fine.”
But there was a long silence after that, and I tried to think of something to say, but everything that crossed my mind just sounded sort of dumb.
Something out in the middle of the pond splashed, breaking the smooth surface of the water, sending ripples reverberating outward.
“What was that?” I asked.
“A fish,” he said. “Trout, maybe.” I waited for him to say anything else, but he didn’t. He didn’t make a move to try and kiss me again, either. Finally, he pushed himself up, then held his hand out to help me up.
“We should probably get going,” he said.
We eventually found our way back to the car. I couldn’t figure out if I was imagining it or not—was there some sort of awkwardness in the air now? There seemed to be, or things weren’t flowing as they had before we’d gone up on that bluff and started to kiss.
When we got back to the neighborhood, instead of just pulling into his driveway, he stopped in front of my house, put the car in park.
“I’ll just let you out here,” he said. “Thanks for hanging out tonight.”
“I’m sorry I bit you.”
“That’s all right. Tongues heal fast.”
I unbuckled my seat belt but hesitated before getting out, waiting to see if he was going to try and kiss me or not. He made no move to.
“All right,” I said. “Well. Have a good night.”
“I will, Allie. You too.”
I walked inside, feeling a little strange, almost as if I’d been rejected, which I hadn’t, and even if I had, it shouldn’t matter because it wasn’t as though I actually cared what he thought. I was doing this to fuck with him, the two of them, and the outcome wasn’t supposed to matter to me. Yet I couldn’t ignore how I felt, like something had definitely gone wrong here.
I changed into my pajamas and was getting a drink of water when something outside caught my eye. I stood there in the dark, watching. It was Cole. He was coming out of his garage, pushing his bike. He buckled his helmet and then hopped on and rode off, at breakneck speed.
Chapter 10
Cole
I wasn’t sure what to do with my newfound information.
Allie was a virgin? What? I almost didn’t believe it, except I didn’t think that she would lie to me about something like that. And now, of course, I found myself feeling bad about this whole bet, doubting myself as to whether or not we should even continue on with it. That would be a pretty shitty thing to do, right?
Obviously, she had her reasons for not sleeping with anyone. Not even hooking up with anyone! She was attractive—more than just attractive—and she lived in the city, where there was no shortage of guys. There would have been plenty of opportunities for her to hook up with someone, or several someones, and she just hadn’t. That told me that it had been a conscious choice, and now here Ben and I were, trying to fuck that up.
Maybe Ben would be understanding of the whole thing, though I doubted it. First, he would probably think I was bullshitting him. Then, once he got past that, he’d see no problem in just keeping things exactly how they were.
I felt a little weird telling him, almost like I was gossiping or some shit, but seeing as what I now knew was affecting how I felt about going forward with this bet, I figured he needed to know.
“She’s a virgin,” I said. It was Sunday night, and we were sitting out on the deck, drinking beer.
Ben guffawed. “Yeah right.”
“That’s what she told me. Why would she lie about that?”
“I don’t know, probably to make herself seem pure or some shit. Can’t you check her for that thing? Just tell her you’re a doctor and you’ll give her a free exam, and then see if she’s got that thing, what’s it called? The uh... the...” He frowned.
“Hymen?” I said.
He snapped his fingers together. “Yeah! That’s it. If she’s allegedly a virgin, she should still have that, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “No,” I said. “That is a complete urban legend.”
“That girls have them?”
“No, they have them, but most wear away by the time they’re teenagers.”
Ben made a face. “Wear away?” He gave me a skeptical look. “I don’t know, man, are you sure about that? Maybe you should examine her just to be sure.”
There was no way in hell I was going to tell him that I had already done that, so I just shook my head.
“So does this change anything?” Ben mused. “With the bet? I don’t think it should. Unless you feel as though deflowering a girl is not within your skill set.”
“I’ve definitely slept with more virgins than you have.”
“Oh, yeah? Like who?”
“I’m not naming names.”
“Names, or it never happened. I don’t think we should change a single thing about this. If anything, you just have the added glory of taking someone’s virginity. And she’s 24; I’d say that’s even more impressive than a 16-year-old or something.”
“I’m not going to sleep with a 16-year-old, for fuck’s sake.”
“Yeah, I know you’re not; that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying bagging Allie would be better than bagging some 16-year-old.” He laughed. “Shit, we’re getting old. I still feel like I’m 17, though.”
“I do too, sometimes. But we’re not teenagers. Maybe though... maybe it would be better if we just called the whole thing off.”
“What? Why? You really don’t think you can pull it off, do you?”
“That’s not it at all. It’s just... it’s a little fucked, isn’t it? This whole thing? For her to lose her virginity because of some bet? That seems like something we would’ve done when we’re teenagers, and, since we’re not, maybe we should just call the whole thing off.”
“You
’re just trying to get out of it,” Ben said. “You, who supposedly loves a good bet and doesn’t think he can lose, you are just looking for a way to get out of this because you know deep down that you can’t do it. Ha!”
“That’s not it, you fuckwad,” I said. “It just seems that someone who has managed to hold onto her virginity for this long should maybe not lose it just based on a stupid bet.”
“What are you talking about? There are plenty of girls walking around who are Allie’s age—and older—that are still virgins. I just saw one at the store the other day. She was about 40 pounds overweight and had a serious moustache.”
“Stop,” I said.
“I’m serious. And not only that, she also had—”
“I believe you,” I said, “I just don’t need you to elaborate about it anymore. What if we call it off, but I’ll still take you to whatever fucking game it is you want? How does that sound?”
“That sounds great, but it also sounds like you know that you’re just not going to be able to pull it off.”
“That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t know, it just seems...it seems like a shitty thing to do.”
“To sleep with her? Fuck, man, you must suck in bed.”
“It just seems like when she loses her virginity it should be, you know, special.”
Ben let out a hoot. “What is this, a Lifetime movie or some shit? Are you one of those people who secretly believes that you should only have sex if you’re really in love with the person? Because if that was the case, I’d probably still be a virgin, too.”
“I’m not saying it has to be this huge, romantic, in-love sort of thing.”
“Oh, yeah? Because that’s what it sounds like. Are you really that concerned about it? I think the real thing that’s going on here is the fact that you just don’t think you can win. The fact that she’s a virgin means she’s spent a shitload of time not being with any guy, and she doesn’t really seem like that attitude is going to change. At least that’s the impression I got from her when we hung out. And I think you’re realizing that you’re just not going to be able to do it, either. Which is fine and all, but I think we should acknowledge the fact that this is ending not because you’re being a gentleman about it, but because you know you’re not going to win.”
The thing was, though, I knew I could actually do it. One hundred percent knew it. And I couldn’t stand the fucking smirk on his face. Ben was my best friend, but I hated that he was sitting there thinking that he had won something, that he had found something that I couldn’t do. I should be the adult here, the grown-up, the 31-year-old man, not the 17-year-old that was apparently still residing inside of me, too, but that part of me simply couldn’t back down from a challenge like this, especially since it’s one that we had already agreed upon. It would make me look like I was the scared I wouldn’t be able to do it, even though that wasn’t the case at all.
“Fine,” I said. “We can keep everything exactly how it is. Nothing changes.”
He grinned. “Atta boy,” he said. “Now, you’re talking.”
Chapter 11
Allie
The Learning Center’s annual end-of-year fundraiser was being held at Moose Lake this year, which Becca told me was different than where they usually had it. The change in location, she said, had been at the request of some of the parents, who were wanting to try something “different.”
I was looking forward to it, but at the same time, I knew it would be a little stressful, just because there would be so many kids there, and I wasn’t sure if all of them knew how to swim.
“Usually, the fundraiser’s pretty boring,” Amy confided in me. “If you want to know the truth, so I’m glad that we’re having it here this year; I think it’ll be fun.”
It was a private beach, very large, with a dock, a fleet of jet skis, a pontoon boat, an anchored raft, a motorboat with a huge raft attached to the back, kayaks, a canoe, stand-up paddleboards, and a variety of lounge chairs, picnic tables, and beach toys. Two of the dads immediately volunteered to man the grill, while the mothers seemed to gather in small groups and the children built sandcastles, splashed in the water, and chased each other around on the beach.
“Are you going to try the jet skis?” Amy asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve never ridden on one before. Now probably wouldn’t be the best time to try it for the first time, though I wouldn’t mind giving the stand-up paddleboard a try. That seems like a safer bet.”
She laughed. “I’ve tried that before. I have like no balance whatsoever, so I definitely won’t be doing that. Oh, there’s Cole and Declan.”
It seemed that all the mothers looked as they watched Cole and Declan make their way down to the beach. Declan had on a pair of turquoise swim trunks with sharks on them and a matching swim shirt. Cole was wearing a pair of green swim shorts and a short-sleeve madras shirt. They looked like a picture out of an L.L. Bean catalog.
I waved as they came over. “Hey, guys,” Cole said. “This is quite a turnout. Good choice on holding it here instead of the art center, though.”
“Can we go swimming?” Declan asked.
“Sure, buddy. Hold on one second.”
Declan looked at me. “Do you have a bathing suit? Will you come, too?”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind taking a little dip,” I said. “The sun is pretty hot.”
I felt a little shy all of a sudden, as I pushed my skirt down and pulled my T-shirt off. I was wearing a very modest one-piece, but it was still a bathing suit, and I could see Cole watching me out of the corner of my eye. Which was silly, when I thought about it, seeing as he’d already seen the most intimate part of me, but I still felt a tad self-conscious.
The water was cool and clear, and it didn’t get deep until much further out. Declan bounded in, yelling at me to watch him do the dog paddle. A few of the other kids followed us in, and Cole and I stood there in knee-deep water while the other kids splashed around us.
“Something dramatic always happens at these things,” Cole said, surveying the beach. “I wonder what it’s going to be this year. Last year, they did a silent auction, and there was literally a fist fight over something... I can’t even remember what it was now. A weekend away at some bed and breakfast, maybe? I think that’s part of the reason why they decided to change the location.”
“It seems to be going pretty well so far,” I said. I leaned over and cupped some water in my hand, splashing it over my shoulders. A few of the guys had made their way down the dock and were getting some of the jet skis started.
“Watch how long I can hold my breath!” Declan said.
I turned and watched as he dove under the water and then kicked his way almost all the way back to the beach. He resurfaced, gasping, and looked back at us triumphantly.
“That was very good,” I said. “You’re a good swimmer.”
“He’s always liked the water,” Cole said. “And I enrolled him in baby swim classes when he was about six months. I didn’t want him to be one of those kids who was afraid of water or didn’t know how to swim until he was like 8 years old or something.”
“I didn’t do much swimming as a kid,” I said. “I always liked it, but my mother was more of a fan of the country club pool than going out to the lake or the ocean.”
Cole snorted. “I never understood that. Especially when you live somewhere so close to a nice lake or the ocean, but I get a feeling some of the parents here are like that, too.”
And it was clear that there were some parents who would not be venturing anywhere near the water, who were much happier to stand there on the beach, sipping their iced teas and watching the kids as they played.
We hung out in the water with the kids for a while longer, and then the food started coming off the grill, so we waded back in. I supervised the children with Amy at two of the picnic tables while the other adults ate, and then everyone dispersed again.
I
waded back out into the water, planning to just take a quick dip to cool off, but one of the dads was coming back in with the stand-up paddleboard.
“Hey,” he said. “You want to give it a try?”
“Sure,” I said. He slid off and held the board for me so I could climb on, then he handed me the paddle.
It was actually easier than I thought it was going to be, and I paddled my way out past the dock. Lily was there, sitting on one of the jet skis, giggling.
“Wait,” she was saying. “How do I make this thing go again?” She looked at me and smiled. “I must be crazy to try riding this, right? But if you can do that and make it look so easy, I should be able to do this—I don’t even have to stand up!”
I laughed and continued to paddle on. It might be nice to do this again when I could really spend some time out here, maybe paddle all the way across the lake or something. I paddled out to almost the middle and stopped, looking around, feeling almost like I was on my own little island out at sea.
As much as I wanted to stay out there longer, I knew I should get back, so I slowly paddled to the right until the board was turned back to the beach. I could hear an airplane overhead and the shrieks of laughter from the kids back on the beach. The sun was warm on the top of my head and my shoulders, and I had a smile on my face as I paddled back in. This was so much better than living in the city, being able to be out here, in nature, with no traffic or skyscrapers, no concrete, no hordes of people hurrying to their next destination. This was exactly what I wanted, exactly where I wanted to be. My mother might have thought I had made a huge mistake moving out here, but so far, things had really been working out quite well.
“Look out!” someone shouted. It took me a second to realize that they were talking to me; Lily seemed to have completely lost control of the jet ski. I tried to paddle away from her, and I thought I had managed to do so, but the thing jerked sharply to the right, clipping the end of the paddleboard, sending me flying. I might’ve gone flying over the jet ski completely if I hadn’t been attached to the board, but I ended up colliding with Lily and hitting my head against something hard before I toppled into the water. There was the shock of the cold water going up my nose and into my mouth, the sharp pain on the side of my head, and then everything went dark.
