So Totally (14 page)

“Oh God. Carrington, is this what your life is always like? Never feeling like you can plant roots? I don’t know how you do it. I would have totally rebelled. I’d be taking crazy chances all the time if I never knew what tomorrow would bring. How do you stay sane?”

I shook my head. “I’m so not sane.” She was right. Realization dawned. I had no idea what would come tomorrow—it could be the year 700 BC or 2586. I might wake up any given Tuesday running away from a Tyrannosaurus. Why wasn’t I seizing the day? How much more messed up did my life have to get before I stopped being afraid to really live it? “You’re right, Heather.”

“I’m right about what?”

“I need to go a little crazy.”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t say that.”

“Whatever. I still need to do it.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear so I did the same. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to have sex with Nate.” Tell me I did not just say that out loud and to my parent.

“Really? Have you guys talked about it?”

“Well, no. But I’m sure he’d be agreeable. He is a guy, after all.”

We giggled and got a “Go to bed, girls” through the wall from Grandma.

Heather turned off the light again, and we both settled back into bed, but neither of us even pretended we were going to sleep.

“I wonder how much it hurts,” Heather pondered.

“Do you think it feels like cramps or like a pinch?” I asked.

“I think it can’t hurt that bad. I mean everyone pretty much does it more than once.”

True. “I can’t believe I’m going to do it.”

We allowed a moment of silence to commemorate the huge decision. Then Heather said, “Me, too. I’m going to have sex with Tommy.”

Whoa. “You shouldn’t do that just because—”

“I’m not. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. And I think it will help us get closer. Don’t you think?” She didn’t wait for me to respond. “Besides, I can’t hold out much longer, anyway. He does this thing with his—”

Oh, hell no. “That’s okay,” I interrupted. “You don’t have to share.”

“So, would it be weird if we had a pact? Like if we lose our virginity on the same night.”

She really had no idea just how weird that was. She’d be mortified if she had a clue. I should be more mortified than I was. But I couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t the worst idea in the world. I mean, she’d always wanted me to be more open about boys and stuff. “Do you want to, seriously?”

She nodded in the darkness. “It makes it less scary, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I guess. So…when should we?”

“Tommy’s folks are going to the city this weekend.”

And Nate lived in his own apartment. Despite the number of people living in the main house, I’d never even seen any of them. “So, Friday?”

“Friday it is.”

How fitting. My life was
Freaky Friday
…with a twist.

This was wrong. So wrong. I knew it was. Normal people don’t have virginity pacts with their mothers. This was like
American Pie
for the clinically insane.

But she was my best friend now. The only person, besides Nate, who I felt like I could really be myself around.

Sort of.

So, never make a huge decision on a Wednesday night that you can’t act on until Friday night. And also, while I’m dispensing advice, don’t ever try to explain what the song “She Bop” by Cyndi Lauper is really about to someone who doesn’t get it already. But that’s another story, and Paul probably still doesn’t understand either.

The problem with making gigantic, life-altering choices and then having to wait is that pretty much your entire brain space is taken up by the looming sensation of impending doom. Or exquisite perfection. Too bad you don’t know which.

And also, I became obsessed with sex. Not like, “oh I want to have some all the time” obsessed. More like when you are trying to swear off sugar and see doughnuts everywhere you look. Everything I saw and heard got filtered through my brain so that it had something to do with sex. I made Kevin look like an altar boy but had the sense to keep my mouth shut about it.

Ironically, the only time I wasn’t obsessed with sex act was during sex education class. In an odd turn of events, we were focusing on STDs that week. After the daily slideshow, it took a while before I could think about sex…or lunch. I know I’ll never, ever eat cottage cheese again. Ever.

Nate must have thought I was going completely mental on him. I ran so hot and cold Thursday and Friday that neither of us knew which end was up. I didn’t mean to come off so damaged—but I kept trying to subtly act sexy, then I would realize I had no idea how to act sexy, so I would pull back because I felt stupid. There was a particularly humiliating moment when I surprised him by sucking on his earlobe between classes and lost my gum on the back of his ear. I think neither the sucking nor the gum turned him on.

When he asked, “Are you ready?” after lunch on Friday, like a moron I blurted out, “Yes, I’m positively sure, I think.” It was then I realized he meant was I ready to go to class.

“What’s wrong with you? You’ve been jumpy and weird the last two days. I thought maybe you were mad at me, but I realized you would already have yelled at me by now if you were,” Nate told me after school.

“I’m…” I got stuck on the words as I looked, really looked, into his face.

All the whirling and whizzing in my brain slowed and my heart skipped a beat, then raced to catch up. I took a deep breath and berated myself for being such a dork. Everything I needed to know could be found in his eyes. They don’t call them the window to your soul for nothing. I was ready. I didn’t need to panic or stress out about it.

He lifted the one eyebrow. “You’re…what? You didn’t finish your sentence.”

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been weird, but I think I’m over it now.”

“You sure?” He traced the line of my jaw with the pad of his thumb.

I pulled his head down and kissed him, not with the practiced lips of woman seducing her lover, and not with the clumsy kiss of a girl pretending she’s practiced. I kissed him with all the feelings inside me that I wanted him to know as truth.

And by the time we pulled back, I doubted very much that he could remember the alphabet.

I wiped a little lip gloss off the corner of his mouth. “You’re going to be late for work.”

He blinked several times. “Call me tonight. I get off at nine,” he said.

I nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to you tonight.”

After, he drove away and I smiled all the way to the library.

Planning a seduction takes a little more effort than I was aware of. Planning two was even worse.

Heather had opted to tell Tommy that Friday would be his lucky night, so at least only one of the seductions was a surprise. We made arrangements to spend the night at “Tracy’s” house, Tommy’s parents thought he was staying at Jake’s, and I knew where the hide-a-key was at Nate’s—so long as none of his family saw me sneaking in, we were set.

I had two hours to kill, alone in Nate’s little apartment. I curled my hair, I washed his dishes, I looked for secret stashes of porn in his nightstand drawer—boredom and nerves are a terrible combination. I haven’t been time’s biggest fan since it threw me out of my own century, but I really hated that stupid clock while waiting for him to come home.

Pacing happened. A lot of pacing. In my heart, I knew that as soon as things “started” I would be fine. Why wouldn’t I be? Nate was the right guy, he loved me. Well, he hadn’t come out and said as much yet, but I knew he did. He committed to me—none of the other girls got to call themselves his girlfriend.

How many other girls?
I wondered. Best not to think of that. My boyfriend earned his reputation with the ladies, though. Ugh. The thought of him touching another girl made me want to unhinge.

Footsteps on the stairs. I fought the urge to hide. This whole thing was a bad idea. I wasn’t ready. I should have told him what was going on, not surprised him. I wished I’d planned it better. I worried about the blue eye shadow Heather promised gave me bedroom eyes. I breath-checked into my hand for the seventh time in ten minutes. I should have posed sexily on the couch or something. Maybe worn a dress or pretty lingerie.

Hello, lamest girl on the planet. How do you plan a seduction and not think you should wear something besides jeans and a t-shirt? Key in the door. Too late.

Nate pushed the door and peered around it, confused maybe about why the lights were on. I smiled weakly from my stupid standing position in the middle of the room.

“Carrington?”

“Hi.”

“
H
OW was work?” I asked.

“Uh. Fine.” He pushed the door closed without turning around. “Did I forget we had plans or something?”

My pulse points pounded. Even my blood was embarrassed. “No. I wanted to surprise you. Surprise.” I fidgeted and worried at the hem on my shirt with my fingertips.

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me.

“Do you want me to go?” I asked.

“Of course not.”

Silence.

“This is awkward.” I spoke not because I had much to say, but because the silence of the room weighed so much and threatened to crush me like steamroller.

He crossed the room and took both my busy hands into his. “Maybe you should just tell me what is going on. Are you breaking up with me?”

“Oh my God, are you kidding me?” Only I could twist a seduction into such a mess that the guy thinks I’m there to break up with him instead. “No. Close your eyes. I can’t say it if you’re looking at me.”

He furrowed his brow.

“Just do it.” When he finally closed his eyes, I inhaled deeply, exhaled loudly. “I want to have sex. With you. Tonight.”

His eyelids sprung up like window shades.

“Close your eyes.” I waited. “I’m carpe dieming.”

He opened one eye in question.

“You know…that Latin stuff for seizing the day. Living for the moment. Throwing caution. All that.”

“May I open my eyes now?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I feel like I missed an important conversation. Did we talk about having sex, and I missed it?”

I shook my head and tried to swallow around the jawbreaker in my own throat. “I sort of had the sex discussion without you, and it turns out I’m in favor of it.”

“Wow. Well, good.” He led me to the couch. “Maybe you could recap it for me anyway.”

I covered my face in my hands.

“What are you embarrassed about? You’re ready to have sex with me but not talk about it?”

“I was sort of hoping I could lure you to bed with my feminine wiles and we could skip the conversation.”

“You’re definitely alluring.” He tapped my forehead. “Especially here. What’s going on in there?”

How could I not smile? He thought my brain was alluring. “I’m scared.”

He sat back, pulling me into his chest. “Whatcha scared of?”

Something happened then. Just like after school, all the incessant buzzing and worrying in my head quieted, only more so. Enveloped in his arms, surrounded by the scent and warmth of him, I could relax and my brain finally…rested.

I didn’t answer right away, and he seemed okay with that. He held me, my head tucked under his chin, and his hand stroking my hair.