Authors: Ava Michaels
I
didn't even bother to glare at him. If losing my virginity involved many more
nights like this, I was joining the nearest convent.
Daryl
couldn't have done a better job of making sure I'd hit the "block"
button on OkCupid if he was trying. Back at the apartment, he somehow worked up
the balls to lean over and try to kiss me as I was trying to make a quick
escape.
His
idea of kissing was sticking his tongue out and hoping he made contact. All I
could smell was rum and pot, and I instinctively recoiled, sputtering a quick
"goodnight" and running like hell for my apartment door.
I
was really wondering if I’d ever have sex. I’d probably be better off buying a
hamster, naming it Virginity, and losing the hamster. It’d be close enough.
I
was going to get Jess back for this.
-----------Chapter
7-----------
When
I got up the up the next morning I looked over at the bed next to me and there
still wasn’t any sign of Jess. She wasn’t there when I got back to the
apartment from my date either. She was probably spreading her legs at some
guy’s apartment or dorm.
I
got up and logged into my dating account. I had a few messages but none of them
interested me. Well, except one…
BigStick.
It had been
a while since I had heard from him. I clicked the message.
………
BigStick:
Come on, I’m harmless. But if you don’t want to come over then I know a really
amazing picnic spot down by the Connecticut River on East Wilder road we can go
to when I get home. What do you say?
………
While
I thought about it I looked at the date and time. The message was sent two
minutes ago and it said he was still online. Shit. What if he started chatting
with me? I’m not good with my mouth on the fly. I mean… I’m as clumsy with my
mouth as I am with my feet. An instant message popped up from him. Bad sauce!
Sorry, that’s college lingo for shit!
………
BigStick:
So what do you think about a picnic?
………
Ugh.
It did seem a bit creepy to be meeting down by the river, where it was easy as
caramel apple pie to dispose of a lifeless little girl's body without being
noticed.
“Come
on Olivia. Don’t fart out your mouth now. Say something smart,” I whispered to
myself.
………
Me:
Hold up, Bundy, no first dates by a body dump. Think of a more public place.
Oh, and considering you sound pretty okay and our quick messages weren’t giving
me any red flags I
think I’m up to
SOMETHING. Don’t think I’m not. I never asked, what’s with the graphic
‘BigStick’ name?
BigStick:
First. I wouldn't kill you. I swear. But I’ll bet most killers would probably
say that.
Me:
Yeah. They definitely would. So, the river is a no go. And what is with your
choice of a name?
BigStick:
Well, 12inchmin was already taken. The truth is I had a big stick in baseball
back in high school and college. Like, you
know,
the
baseball bat. I hit a lot of homeruns! So Big Stick became my nickname. Does
the name bother you?
Me:
No… I laugh every time I read it.
………
Plus
fantasizing about my first time, but he didn’t need to know that.
………
BigStick:
Well, it can be dirty if you want it to be. ;) So what do you do in your free
time?
Me:
I mostly research missing people reports at the police station. I stay very
active in the community and many people would know that I was missing.
BigStick:
You’re good! But can we get off the 'I'm a killer' jokes? I feel like this is
setting a bad precedent… Let’s talk about you and me.
Me:
Let’s do…
BigStick:
How about I’ll message you when I’m back in a couple of days.
Me:
Sounds like a plan Stan.
………
Jeez,
how cheesy am I? As I clicked out of my messages Jess barged through our
bedroom door.
“So,
did you two have sex? I made sure to not be here last night… So you could… You
know… Get deflowered?”
I
giggled. “Thanks, but it was a no go.”
“Seriously?
Come on!”
“Well,
it was bad… He wasn’t doable…
At all.”
I went on to tell her everything about the bad
ordeal.
"No
way," Jess stared at me with her mouth wide open as I relayed the gory
details of my date. Then she hid her face in a pillow, trying to stifle the
laughter that erupted after the rum out of his pocket trick and the stomach
turning kiss scene.
It
was mucho embarrassing. I shouldn't have told Jess that. Daryl was like a
nightmare that I wanted to wake up from at that point. But, with Jess laughing
I couldn’t help but start laughing. I made it out alive. I would never be in
any of his classes so I was relatively safe. And he was drunk and high. He
probably wouldn’t recognize me in a police line-up if his life depended on it.
"So
are you going to call him?" she asked seriously and then burst into
hysterical gales of laughter. Okay, that one was funny and I laughed along with
her.
"Maybe Facebook him?
Get on a little bit of
the Plenty of Fish or Adult Friend Finder? Are you guys going to Craigslist
'Services' each other, or are you the more 'Missed Connections' sort of
couple."
I
laughed so hard my stomach was aching.
"Alright!
Rub it in my face a little more," I said, throwing up my hands. "My
first date where I attempted to get laid was the worst date I've probably ever
been on."
Before
tonight, my prom date had taken that title. Harold
Hoschwender
.
Harold
was a special brand of human that thought everyone had a price. He was a
science geek in high school, which was why I initially felt comfortable around
him. I hung out with a lot of the science geeks, too...
When
I wasn't hanging out with the boys in the band.
Harold was there to
comfort me when I broke up with Carlos and eventually asked me to prom.
It
was the worst decision ever!
When
he showed up at my house, he brought his mother's mini-van and tried to get me
to drink cheap vodka on the way to the prom. I wasn't into that at all. He had
also bought me a diamond bracelet, something that his rich parents could
afford, and gave it to me expecting a little more than a kiss afterwards. I
refused the bracelet and he got pissed right off the bat. Everything went downhill
from there. He danced with everyone else but me. He had about twelve people
stand in a prom picture that was supposed to be for just the couples and then
said “Here’s some money for a cab. I’m going downtown with Eddy and his crew
for an after party.”
And
people wonder why I’m still a virgin.
"So,
what do we do about this?" Jess said.
"What
do WE do?"
"Yeah,
'we'," she said. "Olivia, I am going to help you. No matter how much
you want to bag some grimy popcorn-eating rum-soaked pizza-face, I am going to
make sure you find the right man," she finished with a self-satisfied
grin.
I
threw another pillow at her. I needed to start filling the pillows with rocks.
"You're
a bitch, but you're right. I guess I should get back on the horse, so to
speak."
Jess
laughed.
"Well
don't mount too soon, cowgirl!"
I
was out of pillows to throw.
"I
just need a little time off, I think. I don't want to go out on another date
like that too soon. The next guy needs to be vetted a little better."
"Oh,
we will vet him. I've even got Alex in on this now."
What
did she just say? Please for the love of all that is sacred and holy did she
just say that she told Alex that I was a virgin?
"Please
say you didn't."
She
grinned and nodded her head.
"We
were at the bar last night and I saw him and we talked. He asked me how you
were. I told him you were going on a date tonight... As a virgin!
To
Bad Boys 3!
Where all virgins
go!"
She
laughed and fell back on her bed.
"Why
would you say that to him?"
I
was angry. Jess was my friend and I thought I could trust her NOT to blab every
detail about me to just anyone. Especially to people I work with… And lie to on
a regular basis.
"I
don't know... It was the drinks and it was also the fact that I think a gay
man's perspective here might do you some good."
She
was probably right in that arena. So far, I had only been getting advice from
other women.
"Okay,
well, what did he say?"
"He
wasn't surprised. I
mean,
he didn't know it or guess
it, but he wasn't surprised."
That
figured. I was a walking billboard of virginity. The Junior Anti-Sex League
could use me as a mascot for
erotophobia
.
"So,
that is
swell
. Did I get any golden pieces of advice
out of this encounter?"
"Yeah,
he did say that you are one of those people that gets super suave and confident
after three beers, but super awkward after six beers. It's your 'Goldilocks
Zone' he called it."
Goldilocks zone.
Yeah, I guess
that made sense. It wasn't too cold or too hot in between three and six beers.
Just right.
"Okay,
so his advice is to bring a six pack on my next date?"
"No,
but we were thinking that you should probably just meet a guy at a bar but be
three beers down when you meet him."
That
was there advice? I was screwed and not the way I wanted to be.
"Did
he have any other advice?"
"Oh,
he also said that your legs are your greatest assets. Wear a skirt and heels,
but not a tight skirt. You aren't the sort of woman who pulls off power
clothing very well and the virginal part of you will look better in a sundress
and heels."
I
had to admit, my legs were pretty great. Track in high school did my body good.
Of course, it was among the numerous other extra-curricular activities that I
did in order to secretly sabotage my sex life.
"Well,
that is the advice I was looking for. Now all I need to do is find Mr. Right
and show him these scissor blades," I said, jumping on Jess and crushing
her between my legs.
“Are
you sure you aren’t a lesbian?”
“Shut
up!” I shouted, laughing and rolling off of her.
………
After
my bad date, I was a bit more selective in who I went out with, which
unfortunately meant nobody.
It
seemed Mr. Right was going to take a little while to find.
There
were a few guys on the dating website that seemed like potential hookups.
"
GreatBeyond
" was an adventuring sort of
guy; he had been to Thailand and liked animals. However, he also loved
"bong rips, fat chicks and hacky sack tricks", so he was definitely
not a keeper.
"
SilentArtist
" was another potential. He liked to
discuss books, edited his own '
zine
at the college
which mainly featured his own poetry and he liked red wine to accompany
discussions of French new wave films. However, as with every guy, "
SilentArtist
" also said he was obsessed with the rape
scene in Straw Dogs and thought that Dave Eggers was the reincarnation of
Jonathan Swift. Yuck.
There
was an avalanche of "thickstud69" and "
bigdawgDexter
"
type characters that just messaged me asking if I was '
dtf
',
or Down to Fuck, in their parlance. I was
dtf
, but
not with someone who would ask me if I was. What a paradox that must be for
their small brains.
So
I forgot about the dating website for a while just so I could focus on getting
that filing project at work done and keep up on my homework.
………
At
work, Alex and Veronica kept up to date on every detail of my quest to attain
full womanhood. Both of their advice generally summed up as "put out
more". As if I wasn't doing that by being on a dating website.
As
they joined me again in my private file room for lunch they had quite a bit to
tell me.
"Girl,
just because you are on a dating website doesn't mean you aren’t still playing
the field," Veronica said. "You are looking for the first time that
the majority of people don't get. You want it to be a nice respectable guy who
isn't your boyfriend to take you all Fabio-like, lay you on a bed of flowers
and stuff you like a goose-down pillow. That
ain't
gonna
happen. You either get the flowers and a nervous
white boy who might chop you up afterwards and make a shrine to you in his
closet, or you get a guy just as inexperienced as you and end up more confused
than satisfied.” She looked around like some invisible thing tapped her on the
shoulder.