The Night After

Howdy.  So, now that it's about a week and a half since the actual loss of my virginity, the whole thing is a lot less shocking.  First because I had been saying for a while about how I'd just wanted it over with and I can't really mourn it's loss when it was exactly what I wanted.  Also because I have other things to think about.  I'm a busy gal.

But I think I'm kind of feeling like writing about the night after I lost my virginity before I completely forget it. So here it is!

The next day, I'd told my friend who'd accompanied me to the beach about it because I couldn't just go to bed with it and pretend it didn't happen.  That's not healthy. And, honestly, she's about as crazy as it gets in my group of friends so she'd probably be the closest to understand. 

She knew, but I didn't have strong feelings about it at the time and, really, I still don't.  So the next day, we were invited back again.  Like I said before, beach hook ups with strangers aren't all that uncommon, especially in this day and age, so I didn't expect anyone to make a big deal of it.

We got there earlier that day, more like nine at night.  When we knocked on the door, David was the one to answer.  He wasn't wearing a shirt.  Just thought I'd throw that out there.  We made eye contact and he kind of half-smiled and half-smirked at me.  Then he stepped back and allowed us in the room.

I took into account the fact that there were definitely more people there that night than the night before.  And, again, the girl from the beach screamed my name as I entered.  After she screamed my name, there was an extremely loud and obvious chorus of "Isa!" and a lot of cat calls and hollering.  It was so fucking obvious what they were laughing at.  I didn't think it would affect me as much as it did.  I automatically shut down and decided I couldn't deal with it.

I mean, it didn't really matter what they thought of me.  I don't care if they thought I was a slut.  I don't care if they knew I puked on his bed sheets.  I don't care if they knew I was a virgin.  It doesn't fucking matter because I'm never going to see them again after this trip.  All they knew about me was my hometown and my first name.  Do you know how many people there are in my hometown with my first name? A whole fucking lot.  So it doesn't matter what they thought because they don't fucking know me. 

Just getting that out there.

I turned to my friend, who was still standing there blocking the door, and said "Yeah, they're talking about how we had sex. I can't do it."

She looked concerned and we both walked down the stairs of their duplex.  As soon as we got all the way down there, the girl from the beach comes barrelling down the stairs to convince us not to leave.

"Isa, where are you going?!" She was screeching and she was so fucking drunk.

"Home, I'm not comfortable here."

"Why would you do that?"  Like David the night before, she sounded so fucking stupid.  And drunk.  And, not for the first time, I wondered what the fuck I had gotten myself into.

"Why would ya'll talk about my sex life?" I asked without really thinking about it. 

"I hadn't even heard anything about that!" she swore.  "We were just laughing because we're smashing beer cans on our heads because we're so fucking drunk!" Somehow, she convinced me and my friend to go back upstairs.  Maybe I was just being paranoid.  I still don't know if that's what they were laughing about that.

When we walked back into the room, David wasn't there.  A lot of other girls were there, however. Well, a lot compared to the night before.  We were probably equal to the amount of guys, now. I sit back down on the seat that I occupied the night before.

I carried a bottle of Gatorade with me because my stomach had been really upset all day.  I told myself I wasn't going to drink.  Maybe I'd smoke, but the only bottle I'd nurse was my sports drink.

David walked back into the kitchen a few minutes later.  Still not wearing a shirt.  He sat down next to me and launched into the story of the house's conversation after my friend and I had left the night before. 

Apparently, they were talking about some "heavy shit" and we would cry if we'd heard their conversation.  It was usual stoner talk - death, conspiracies, whatthefuckever.  I hate those conversations.  They're pointless and stupid and I don't involve myself in them.  So I tried to steer clear of diving into that conversation again and said, "I'm sure I would, so we should probably choose another topic."

David didn't listen.  Instead, he spent the next twenty minutes rambling off some drunken story of some kid who he played football that had leukemia.  I did what I could, but for the life of me, I couldn't follow a single word of that story.  He talking and slurring, talking and slurring.  I have no idea what the hell he was talking about.

After he had concluded his story (finally), he crossed his arms on the table and laid his head down.  If I hadn't been sitting next to him and could see that he wasn't sleeping, I would've assumed he'd passed out. But, alas, he was concious as ever. 

So, naturally, we played another drinking game.  This one with a deck of cards.  It wasn't as fun that time because there was only five of us - me, my friend, some random chick that hadn't been there the night before, the guy from the beach, and another guy that had been there the night before.  The random chick introduced herself, but she had a weird name and I can't remember it.  She was drinking a Mike's Hard Lemonade. Pussy.

She was also attempting to flirt with David the whole night. Haha.

Anyway, it also wasn't fun because I wasn't drinking.  My stomach was in knots just like it had been all day.  After a while, everyone kind of dispersed to do their own thing.  I was asked to go out on the porch to smoke, but I declined.  My friend, however, accepted.  That left me, David, and the random chick at the kitchen table. 

David was still at that half-passed-out state.  I just kind of sat there for a while before another group of four or so girls came barrelling through the front door.  I smiled at them a little.  David didn't move.  A minute or so went by before I decided I would go out and smoke. 

Before I got up from the table, though, David lifted his head a little and rested it against my upper arm.  I wasn't really sure why he did that, but I ran my fingers through his hair.  And then I realized how much time my hands spent in that hair the night before and quickly withdrew my hand. It was a little awkward after that so as soon as he picked his head back up, I stood up to go to the porch.  As I passed David, I touched his back - kind of like patted it a little. 

I got half way across the living room before I realized that I left my phone on the bench next to David.  I walked back and got it.  He still hadn't moved. Fucking weird.

When I got to the back porch, it was me, my friend, and the two guys and the girl we met on the beach.  When I stepped out, the girl from the beach looked behind me and a look of extreme confusion crossed her face. "Isa? Where's David?" she asked.

I think she expected us to be, like, a package deal or something. Or that he would follow me around wherever I went. But, honestly, why would he?  I'm sure he's had tons of lays and I'm just one of them.  I wasn't special and I probably wasn't even the youngest.  So I just shrugged.

She breezed past me saying, "I'll go get him."

I rolled my eyes because it was so fucking obvious the way she was playing match-maker.  She was trying to set up my friend with guy from the beach, too.  So fucking obvious.  She didn't even try to hide it.

Her boyfriend offered me the bowl, so I took a couple hits before giving it back to him.  Marijuana isn't really my thing, but when it's offered, I'll usually accept. 

I must have looked really deep in thought or something because her boyfriend asked me, "What's wrong?"

"Your girlfriend is so obvious," I replied.  We both snorted at that and smiled.  He was probably the nicest guy there.

Needless to say, David never came on the back porch.  A few minutes later, though, we all headed back into the kitchen to sit at the table and David was still there. Same position and everything.

I opted for another seat across the table instead of next to him.  The other girls that had come in were also sitting at the table and talking to the guys already seated.

I wasn't really listening until they started to explain that their room got raided by the police. My friend and I shared a wary look before she asked me if I was ready to leave.

A little background knowledge of me and my friend: we're closet partiers.  We're from upper-middle-class families in a big city and small school.  Not a lot of people know that we smoke, drink, and get a little wild sometimes.  Getting arrested or a written warning would be sure to change that. 

I easily agreed because no way in fucking hell are we getting caught here.  We said our goodbyes and David still. Didn't. Fucking, Move.

So I decided whatthefuckever and let the guy from the beach that was trying to hook up with my friend walk us out the door.  He asked us why we had to leave and my friend explained that we were just sketching out about the cops.

He got all understanding and tried to convince us that it was nothing big - their place had been raided every night and nothing ever happened.  Which, hah, didn't calm us down at all. 

"Can you just, honestly, tell me what ya'll were laughing about when came over, please?" I had to ask before we left.  As much as it didn't really matter, it was still only mine and David's business what we did in that room.

He went along with the same story that the girl from the beach gave us which gave me a little peice of mind.

"Just... don't let David say anything," I said.  He nodded and I walked away a little to give him some privacy with my friend.

He swindled a little kiss out of her.  I knew she didn't like him like that at all, but I'm not really in a position to judge.

We said goodbye and headed back to her condo without much conversation.  My friend was, again, blazed out of her fucking mind.



I thought seeing David again would make me feel a little better about what had happened.  If anything, though, it just made me feel worse.  At the end of the day, though, it's kind of a whatever experience.  I can hold on to the fortune of knowing that I'll never have to see any of them again.