On the way to the prom, we picked up Tammy, Claire and their dates. Their dates were both, not surprisingly, members of the football team. It turned out that when I first met Tammy and Claire, they were both in between boyfriends. Both Tammy and Claire at one point had dated Kevin. I thought that it spoke highly of Kevin that he remained friends with his ex-girlfriends. Even to this day, I can’t fault him for that. He was a very friendly fellow.
Tammy’s date, as he entered the car, pulled a large bottle of champagne out from behind his back. Everybody ‘oo-ed’ and ‘ah-ed’ excitedly. It was only a matter of seconds later before the cork popped off explosively yielding a trail of long white foam. Glasses were procured by Claire’s boyfriend. He had brought some along in the box filled with all sorts of alcoholic goodies to be enjoyed later. We were all handing a foaming glass. It was difficult to keep it steady against the bumps in the road. Kevin perked himself up proudly, unable to stand in the limousine and pronounced, like a true orator,
“To good times and good friends. I hope this is the best night of our life!” There was a flurry of glasses clinking in agreement with the toast. My glass was among them, and then I brought it to my lips and took a sip. It tasted very bubbly and warm in my throat on the way down. I didn’t have much experience with alcohol yet. My previous experience consisted of champagne my parents grudgingly allowed me to partake in at new year’s and only after my repeated insistence. Having indulged in champagne previously I didn’t see reason why this time would be different from any other. Caught up in the excitement of the moment however, I failed to take into consideration my empty stomach, which still rumbled angrily for a lack of lunch or supper. My mother tried to give me some potatoes she had prepared but, I just couldn’t stomach them.
Needless to say, it was only a matter of time before the bouncing of the car along the dirt roads which led to our high school, echoed loudly in my head. Now alcohol has this funny effect of making you feel a little sick and lightheaded but wanting more of it just the same. So, just as I was being offered my third glass, rationality flew out the window, which was incidentally ajar, and I gladly accepted in what must have been a very slurred,
“Sure, I’ll have another.” That was about the last thing I remember saying. The last thing I remembered thinking, was “Wow, we are going to arrive to the prom drunk, even before it starts. We must be the biggest party animals.”
Evidently we were. I would only know what we did that night from third party sources, but it was the talk of the school for several weeks, so such sources abounded. Supposedly, we ended up dancing on the punch tables, and singing and dancing with the hired band. When our teacher chaperones tried to put the reigns on our outlandish behaviour, I was rumoured to have kissed Mr. Ogilvie and begged for forgiveness while he was reprimanding us. It was hard to confirm that rumour, but for the remainder of that year, Mr. Ogilvie always looked at me strangely as I entered the room. Fortunately for those in attendance, we ran out of steam after about an hour and we were content to slump together on the benches while we sobered up. It was one in the morning when my pounding in my head settled to a dull roar in the background.
The prom was officially over. Unofficially there were many plans being made. Our party clamored awkwardly into our limo. I heard Kevin tell the limo driver something but I couldn’t quite make it out. Kevin, with two years my superior with respect to drinking experience had managed to sober up quite nicely. I was still very dazed and would continue to be well into the following morning. We dropped off everybody in the order we had picked them up, leaving Kevin and I alone. We didn’t end up back at my house however, but instead the limo dropped us off at Kevin’s house. I looked at him oddly and he replied immediately to my confused look.
“I have an idea. It’ll help you sober up.” With that he took my hand and guided me out of the limo. He waived to the driver (the limo had been pre-paid) and the limo rumbled off, leaving a dust trail behind it. Kevin, realizing that I lacked stability in my current state placed his arm around me for added support. We started walking. I walked sloppily, tripping ever other stride, but fortunately Kevin was there to prevent my falling. He guided me into his car. I lay back in the seat and I remember that the full moon shone blindingly in my eyes. It was of no fault of the moon, the moon was not that intense, but more my burgeoning hang over.
We drove for several short minutes. The convertible top was down and wind in my hair did perk me up, although, it made me very chilly. Goose bumps riddled my skin in silent testimony to that fact. We arrived at Serenity pond. There were no big surprises in the small town of my youth, there weren’t all that many places to go. This time, we were on the opposite side of the pond. The boulder which we sat on that first night lay faintly illuminated and across the pond. Many people had the same idea that night. In fact, it took Kevin a very long time to find a spot sufficiently private although, really it was still in earshot of the next car over. Kevin looked at me boyishly. Appearing concerned he asked,
“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” His eyes never met mine while he was saying that. Instead they were darting about just trying to find a place of interest. I muttered something to the effect that I was find. Suddenly his eyes found that interesting place. He stared intently at my cleavage. He stared for a good long while then drew his eyes up and down my body. His eyes had a primal look about them, although his face still looked boyish and unsure. The contrast was most striking. He opened his mouth, as if to say something and then paused, carefully composing his words as if he were about to deliver an important speech. Finally, his eyes met with mine and he started out boldly:
“Have you ever thought about having … you know…” his hands waved in the air hoping that I would be able to finish his sentence for him. I ‘did know’ and I wasn’t about to finish that sentence or help him out in any way. He continued realizing that his first sentence if completed would be to daring. He started again.
“I am going to be going to college this fall; I don’t know how often I am going to be able to see you. Charlotte, you are special to me. You know that I have been out with a lot of girls, including Tammy and Claire, but they just didn’t mean to me what you do.” I couldn’t believe it but he was actually getting somewhere. I had always been a little jealous of Tammy and Claire, always wondering if and when they would try to move in on Kevin and take him from me. Hearing him say those words put me at ease. I felt on top of the world. My spinning head added to the effect. He resumed, after noticing my more pensive look.
“I want to remember you and I want to make sure you remember me. Now I was thinking of putting this off until later in the summer but think of it …” he paused for effect. “This is our prom night. I am off to college now, I won’t ever have another night like this. I want to make it special and a memory we will both have for a long time.” That night really needed a memory because I had no direct recollection of any events from just two hours before. My mind began wavering. Happily, my mind chanced upon a logistics issue which could throw a wrench into the works and avoid my having to make this decision.
“But … But …” I stammered at first searching for the words and then, finding courage, shot off the necessary string of words, “I don’t want to get pregnant.” He looked remarkably confident. I was disappointing hoping that my words would have caused him a little grief, or caused him to think for a few seconds. He reached quickly to the glove box and produced a small brown paper bag. I was familiar with the design and logo. It was from the pharmacy. He placed it in my lap and looked at it with his eyes, as though he was asking me to examine it. I opened it to find a box of condoms. The decision, once again and in very many different ways, lay solely in my lap. As soon as the box of condoms was visible he quickly shot in,
“See, I thought of everything for you. There is really nothing to worry about.” I didn’t have any response for him. He stood poised waiting for me to say something. He looked at me as though I was a balance which was slowly shifting to agreement. He didn’t move as though the slightest movement on his part would case a breeze and tip the scales in the other direction. He was right. I peered into his eyes deeply, trying to see his true emotions but the connection our eyes established ran both ways. Somehow he was able to reach into my heart and know exactly what I wanted to hear.
“Charlotte, I love you.” His words sounded softly but clearly in the night air. A small trail of vapour came with them, the slightly chilled night air allowing me to see and hear his words. I had never had anyone aside from my parents tell me that. Quickly, with new found confidence and zeal I checked around to make sure that no one was watching and in a single motion planted a firm kiss on his lips. He was slightly shocked, as he was accustomed to having to make all of the ‘moves’ himself. He seemed pleased though, and why shouldn’t he. In all of my adolescent fantasies, I imagined my first time being long, drawn out and passionate. In reality it turned out to be far from it.
It seemed that no sooner had Kevin gotten over the initial shock of my passionate kiss, that he was on top of me, reaching down the back of my dress and undoing my bra. I supposed I could have lived with this had he remained committed to the cause of caressing my breasts. But he was far to eager. It is almost comical to me now, but after just two quick grabs from his hands, he reached into his pants and produced his penis which was up and ready. Now, even at the ripe age of sixteen, female systems always require priming and the two quick regards he gave to my breasts and an even quicker stroking of my thighs just wasn’t enough to do the trick. So, when he went to go inside me, my being a virgin to begin with, and the complete lack of any lubrication made for a very painful experience. I winced against the pain trying to not to make a sound. Fortunately for me, much like the champagne bottle that had begun the night, it only took about five seconds for his cork to pop and the whole even to be over. He had a look of pain as he ejaculated; perhaps it was painful for him too? But then suddenly his demeanour changed to that of relief and intense satisfaction. The entire event was so quick, I wasn’t sure that it had happened. I received a reminder when a looked down to my lovely blue dress which bore a crimson stain in the crotch attesting to my loss of virginity. There was no doubt about it now. It had happened.
He lay on top of me for the longest time, just trying to catch his breath. He was very heavy and I hoped he would get off me soon. Then he looked up and kissed me. I, still reeling from the pain pursed my lips and let him kiss me. He rolled over the stick shift and proceeded to zip up and tuck in his shirt. He had that boyish look again as he asked me hopefully,
“So, was it good?” I remained silent while I was trying to decide if it was a good idea to reveal the truth. He began to pout because my answer did not come quickly enough to soothe his insecurity. I put on false airs and told him that it was fine. I didn’t kiss him though, I couldn’t decide if I liked him or not at that moment. He seemed content with my answer and just like that he had the keys in the ignition and we were on our way.
We arrived a my house just ten minutes later. I kissed him goodnight. It didn’t mean much it was almost force of habit. I had never seen him quite so passionate and satisfied though. He drove off rather quickly. I wasn’t offended by his hasty departure, but ironically flattered, knowing that Kevin drove faster when he was happy. While my emotions where churning inside due to events that evening, it still made me feel so feminine knowing that I could please a man like that. While my mind was deeply confused, my body managed to walk normally, despite my hang-over, as if to compensate.
I was suddenly cognizant of the blotch on my record, or more accurately, the stain on the back of my dress. My parents said that they would wait up just to see how things went. My parents were very cute that way. They always wanted to see how I was and enjoyed seeing me happy. I wondered how they would react to seeing that stain? I thought for a second, still continuing my approach. I had nothing to cover up with outside but I had a plan. I walked in through the open door, which my parents had left that way pending my arrival and quickly grabbed Kevin’s football jacket which lay on the rounded end of the banister where it always was. I quickly wrapped it around my waist and then walked in to the living room, just around the corner, where my parents were waiting for me.
“Hi sweety how was it?” My mother spoke so sweetly that it touched me.
“Fine Mom. Just great.” I hoped that my voice didn’t reveal anything that I didn’t want it to.
“And Kevin … how did he like it?” my father added to the conversation.
“He had a great time Dad.” I was glad that I didn’t have to lie outright with that answer, although it was a lie of omission. My mother looked at my shoulder and then the jacket wrapped around my waist. I prayed she didn’t suspect anything.
“Why sweety, you must be freezing. Just look at those goose bumps.” God bless goose bumps I thought to myself. My father spoke calmly,
“Why don’t you head upstairs and change and when you come down we’ll all have some tea and you can tell us all about it.” The changing clothes part I was all for. I was less enthusiastic about the ‘tell us all about it’ part but I was sure I would manage. I nodded, agreeing to his plan, and made my way upstairs. I quickly changed, anxious to remove any and all damning evidence from my person. I poured water on the offending stain which came out remarkably easy considering that it hadn’t set. I put on my comfortable jeans which I always wore around the house. They had holes in the knees and my father detested them for that reason. I had to admit that they were very ugly and beaten up but I could never throw them out. They were just too comfortable.
I started to take off my make up and as I looked at myself, the events of the night became clear. I had always wanted my first time to be passionate and fulfilling. Aside from the pain I still felt ‘below decks’, I felt nothing. But, I had been with him so long, at least in terms of the sixteen year old dating world that I was used to him and I liked the way I felt when I was around him. Still, I definitely felt used. I felt that the experience was entirely for his benefit and that I could easily have been replaced by a sofa, had a sofa similar parts to my own. I resolved then that I would continue to see him although, in perhaps my first move of self-determinism, I would not have sex with him or anyone else for that matter until I decided I was ready. I realized that I wasn’t being prude, I just didn’t want to be an ingenue who anyone could do with as they pleased. With that thought, I brushed my teeth just to make sure that there weren’t any traces of alcohol on my breath, and made my way downstairs to have tea.
My parents were easily placated with some made up details about the prom. I remember feeling so glad that I knew that if I choose to, I could have discussed the true events of that evening with my parents. Sure they would have been concerned, perhaps raised their voices and lectured me at end, but there was no question that they would always love me. From their eager looks as I walked in that night to the warm tea they prepared for me, nothing could beat the absolute love of parents. I knew that no matter where I went or how uncomfortable a situation, I could always regain that comfort and be welcome at home.
