When you think of high school, you think of dating hot guys, partying, drinking, bonfires, sneaking out, and raising hell. Up until the middle of my junior year my life consisted of none of those things. I began to think that all that stuff was a myth and it was all just to make movies about teenagers a tad bit more interesting. Well, I was wrong. It's real.
You are about to catch the retelling of my downward spiral into a dazed and confused insanity. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
It all started on a cold day in late March. I received a text from some guy in Sutherlin who said that a mutual friend gave him my number. I was like "OK, no harm in talking to the kid. Nothing could happen." Boy was I wrong.
We continued flirtexting over the next several days and it was crunch time. I had to meet the guy. I, who had not been on a real date in well over a year, was freakin' the fuck out. A million doubts were running through my head. I had no idea how to act. What would I say? What would we talk about? Would he even like me after meeting me in person?
He picked me up from my grandmas right on time, after I had given him the wrong directions (I'm such a spaz!). He was even cuter in person. Oh crap.
He was a whirlwind of badboy wrapped up in a worn hickory. He was the exact kinda guy my mother warned me not to get involved with. (what's not to like? what could go wrong?)
Aside from taking a leak in the parking lot of the movie theatre, the date was very nice. He kept his hands off of my merchandise like a real gentleman and he was even concerned about pulling my hair when his arm was around me. After the movie got out we drove around for awhile, and not ready to take me home quite yet, he parked a few miles from my house. You'd think that this is where my pg story would take a sharp turn to the X department. But no, the gentleman facade was still up. We talked about everything. His issues with his divorced, uninvolved parents, mine with my together, and controlling parents. Ex's, lack thereof, friends, best friends, partying, phobias, pretty much everything under the sun.
The clock on the dash was pushing towards two. My mom was probably walking the ceilings. I had to get. When he dropped me off at my grandma's he gave me an innocent (okay, maybe a smidgin of tongue) kiss and send me on my way with a hug.
Butterflies. My first actual date in quite a while and I had butterflies. The text that came a little later asking if I made it home safely didn't help the matters any. Of course I did what any girl in my situation would do and I called one of my best friends. I felt a connection, or atleast I thought I did.
The next day I had to work but when I got off, I had a message from him. He had invited me to a party at his house that night. I was beyond excited. I already had a change of clothes in my car. Just had to slip my mom a little white lie and I was on my way. First, I called another one of my best friends and asked her if she wanted to go to the party with me. I couldn't go alone! I needed my wing woman. She agreed. I made a quick phone call to my mom, I played it off that I was spending the night with a friend.
The butterflies were still present, even more so due to the nerves. I had no clue where this guy even lived, thank god my friend was driving and knew the area. I clutched on to my micro bottles of JD like they were my safety blanket.
The party is abuzz with those familiar faces that you've heard of but don't really know. The crowd that you don't really want to be associated with in good company. But the beer was cold, music was country, and the cloying green smoke was leeching out of the parked cars. It was a party. A real one. There was no board games or balloons at this shindig.
I didn't know anybody and I needed something to calm my nerves, so three shots of jack sounded fuckin' A- fantastic. Not the smartest plan now that I think back on that moment. I was stealing hats and dirty dancin to Earl Dibbles Jr. I was all kinds of trashy and I was thinkin' it was classy. People were getting a little rough with the household materials and brakin' shit. This made the party host, A.K.A my date, pretty damn pissed off. He went storming off to his bedroom to pout. And my friend insisted that I go see if he was ok. Stupid move.
I went in, he motioned me over to sit on his bed. I did, like a dumbass. I can't remember exactly how it happened but we ended up making out hot and heavy. He started trying to take my clothes off. This was the one thing that kinda sobered my drunk ass up. I was currently unavailable and taking a red eye flight if you know what I mean. I had thought that mother nature's monthly was good enough birth control. I was like "hold up". I couldn't be a tease... I started going down on him. Baaaad decision. A drunk girl should never have anything go past her uvula. I was about three minutes into it when I felt it come up. The alcohol and bile made its way up to my mouth. I shot up and caught most of it on my hands. The remainder landed on my $200 pants. I ran outside. And I was wayyyy too drunk to be embarrassed. I puked off of the porch and stripped down to my skivvies. Somebody was supposed to bring me back some pants, but I had bigger and better things to be doing, such as taking a piss on some guys SUV. I might've puked a little too....
Someone finally reigned me inside, and what did I do? I went right back into the bedroom with the guy. I was sans pants this time around. My thought process was left somewhere behind at "it's ok just to make out." My mind took a backseat and just let my lips do the thinking.
I didn't see any harm in dry humping but apparently guys think that that is an open invitation to your pants. I was way to drunk to be mortified that he was putting his mouth any where near my business and then when he tried to take my shirt off, I stopped him. Then I realized I was a little late of that one. The ship had sailed. He was already inside of me.
This is where I blacked out. I have no recollection following this memory up until someone came and got me from the bedroom. Raising me from my self induced hell. I was unaware of all the fights that had broken out while I was in his room for a rumored four hours. My friend that I had brought with me ended up making out with a hot bearded guy by the washer and dryer and had plans to leave me before all of the shit went down. I was dragged out of the bedroom and shoved into a car wearing nothing but a borrowed pair of shorts and a tank top. I spent the remainder of the night (wee hours of the morning) at my friends sleeping off some of my stupor. I woke up around nine-ish to the sounds of people moving about upstairs. My head was fuzzy and could barely wrap around a coherent thought. Great. Hungover. I stumbled upstairs to the smell of hot coffee, still wearing the guys shorts from last night. Which reminded me that I had left my pants, socks, and shoes out there the night before. No problem, things were crazy but they weren't too bad, I can just go get them, I thought. I changed into my extra pants and my friend and I made the drive down the road to go pick up my stuff, a whirl of emotions swirling through my hungover brain, embarrassment, excitement, nerves. We walk in, the guys truck is parked in the driveway, somebody didn't make it to work. There were signs of the party throughout the whole house: beer bottles in the sink, a broken chair on the washer, and a broken coffee table. We made our way into his bedroom, the sight of my torrid affair of the previous night. There he was. He seemed perfectly fine, still joking about the night before. He asked why his pants were on and his underwear weren't. My friend informed him that one of his friends had to dress him and that he was naked when everyone came in his bedroom. His next remark was that we'd have to do it again so he could remember it. I gave him a hug goodbye, gathered my pile of wet clothes from the porch, and thought all was okay in my little lust/love-land.
That is until I remembered that I had forgotten to take my "pill" and a condom was an afterthought that night. And he decided to never talk to me again. FML.
This isn't the whole story or the only story; there is plenty more to come in the later chapters. This is just the start of the real good stuff.
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