I take a deep breath. This is it. The moment I confess my embarrassing secret to my friends.
“No,” I tell them, letting out a big breath as if I was just blowing up a balloon. “I’ve never even had sex.”
“Ooooh,” Monique says, as if she’s discovered a rare gem.
“Stop it,” I tell her, feeling stupid. “It’s really not that uncommon.”
“No,” she says, grabbing my hand in apology. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant like, wow, I’m kind of jealous.”
“Really?” I ask, looking at her skeptically.
Her brown curly hair threatens to come loose from the crazy cinnamon bun- style hairdo propped on top of her head with bobby pins and hair spray. Her dark eyes look sincere.
“Really,” she says. “You’re a blank slate. You can have any kind of ‘first time’ that you want.”
“I sure wish I could go back and have my first time over again,” Tessa agrees.
“Why?” I ask her.
“It was with some douchebag jock in the back of my car.”
She scrunches up her face in disgust.
“As soon as it was over he drove me home and dropped me off and that was that. I wish I had waited until I was in love.”
“Love is overrated,” Monique declares. “I wish I could have a ‘re-do’ of my first time too, and it was with my boyfriend of nearly three years and we were madly in love a the time. Or so I thought.”
“Really?” I ask.
Now it’s my turn to be intrigued.
“Yeah, I built it up in my head to be some amazingly big deal and it so wasn’t. It hurt and then it felt boring. He just laid on top of me for a minute or two and that was it. The beginning of the end for us.”
“Everything changed after that?” I ask her, genuinely curious. “Because you had sex?”
“Because we had bad sex,” she says. “And I realized I just wanted something better.”
It’s kind of a funny statement but all three of us nod our head solemnly, as if it is very sad.
“Hmmm,” Tessa says thoughtfully, which is my sentiment exactly. “So maybe my first time wasn’t that bad after all. At least he made me come.”
We all laugh and I feel a sense of relief about unburdening myself of this formerly shameful secret. And about knowing that they’re envious of me instead of pitying me.
“So how do you want your first time to be?” Tessa asks me. “With someone you love? Or with a stranger?”
“I couldn’t imagine it being with a stranger,” I immediately answer.
But then I look around at the plethora of hot Irish guys walking into and out of various bars and around the square and I wonder what it would be like to go home with one. Could I really give my virginity to a total stranger?
“I really don’t think I could do that,” I tell them. “But in fantasy it might be fun to think about.”
“Have you never had a boyfriend?” Tessa asks, and Monique elbows her.
“What?” she says. “I just bared my soul and my embarrassing sex story here so I just thought I’d ask…”
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “I’ve had boyfriends but they were all good boys and I was a good girl.”
“So I see not much has changed.”
“Ha ha.”
I think back wistfully, about both the positives and negatives of high school.
“My friends— and the few guys I dated— and I were all destined to go on and become the college students we are now, on the scholarships that we earned while studying our asses off in high school while our classmates were partying or experimenting. We didn’t have time for booze, drugs or sex.”
And maybe we were a little bit scared, I thought.
Having sex for the first time is a really big deal. But I’m starting to feel like if I don’t do it now, I might never do it. I don’t mean right now right now, but soon-ish.
Tessa and Monique might have cringe-worthy stories about their first time but at least they’ve lived through the experience. I’m starting to feel like I’m missing out on something.
“Well, let us know when you want to do the deed and we’ll be sure to offer all of our support and unlimited liquid courage,” Tessa says.
“I will,” I tell them. “I’m thinking it should probably be with a stranger, so that at least it won’t mess up my relationship. And I’m starting to think it should probably be soon.”
“Woo hoo!” Tessa shouts, throwing her arms around me. “I’m so excited for you. I feel like I can live vicariously through you.”
She shivers into my shoulder. Monique joins us in a group hug.
“Well now that I’m up against your warm coat, I realize how freezing cold I am,” Tessa says.
“Maybe it’s just the alcohol wearing off,” Monique jokes. “Time to go get some more.”
“Yes!” Tessa practically shouts. “Onto the next bar.”
“I think I’m going to call it a night,” I tell them.
“Oh really?” Monique pouts. “But the fun was just getting started.”
“Do you want us to go back with you?” Tessa asks.
“No, I’ll be okay,” I tell them. “You two have fun finding guys who are neither married nor bad kissers.”
“We will do that,” Tessa declares. “And you have fun with your Kindle book.”
“Very funny. Bye ladies.”
We hug one more time and they head off to the next bar. I still can’t stop thinking about our conversation.
Why do I feel so ready to lose my virginity? And who could I possibly lose it to?
As I walk down an alleyway, further away from the lights of the square, I realize I should be concentrating on more pressing issues. I thought that there was a main road this way, from where I could hail a cab away from the bustle of the bar scene and with hopefully less of a wait. Squinting into the darkness, however, I realize I must be tipsier than I thought, because I have no idea where I am.