1Bailey“Oh, my God, isn’t he gorgeous?”
I giggle as my best friend, Kara, flops herself dramatically onto my bed. Some people read magazines for the fashion ideas, or beauty tips, or the latest celebrity gossip. Kara reads them exclusively for the men.
Sighing, she fans herself with her copy of Cosmo, then presents the magazine to me.
“Look at him!” Kara orders, pointing a manicured finger at the glossy page.
I look.
Surprise, surprise: Christopher Owen was voted the year’s sexiest man, and it doesn’t take much for me to see why. The cover star has curly dark hair and piercing blue eyes. His washboard abs are perfectly defined, as are the muscles in his arms. In the centerfold photo, his jeans are slung low on his hips, and his smile is dazzling in a devil-may-care attitude.
As I linger on the sight of his pouty lips, I can’t help but wonder what kind of woman a man like Christopher Owen would be interested in. Does he like a girl with curves? I’m petite, but very curvy, with masses of curly brown hair and warm brown eyes. He’d probably be more into Kara, I think, casting a sideways glance at my blonde, blue-eyed best friend. I’m sometimes insecure about my weight, and, at this moment, I feel huge. Kara is stick-thin – she’s the quintessential girl-next-door that all the guys seem to go for.
Meeting my gaze, Kara grins widely and snatches the magazine back.
“Ugh, the things I would do to that man!” she proclaims with a groan, lying back with the magazine over her face.
“Like what?” I tease with a smile. Kara is never shy about her sex life.
“We’d make hot, passionate love day and night, of course!” Kara says, giggling. “In the bed, in the shower, on the floor…”
“On the floor?” I question, arcing a brow. “Isn’t that uncomfortable?”
“I’d be too distracted to notice if it were uncomfortable or not.” Kara rolls onto her stomach, her smile suddenly coy. “Speaking of hot, passionate love-making, what’s up with you and Donnie?”
I can’t help it, and flush a deep red. Kara laughs and pokes me in the ribs.
“That good, huh?” she teases.
“Ugh, not quite,” I lament. I gather my dark curls into my hand, twisting them expertly into a messy bun on the top of my head. I had been hoping to keep this facet of my relationship to myself, but I should have known that Kara would weasel it out of me sooner or later. Reluctantly, I confess: “We haven’t done it yet.”
Kara’s jaw drops.
“Seriously?!”
“Seriously. I mean, we’ve done lots of other stuff…” My grin widens, then falls. “But not it.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?!” Kara demands.
“I don’t know. A rainy day?” I joke.
“I’m serious, Bailey. You’re eighteen years old, and it’s been three months, right?”
“Well, yeah, but – ”
“What are you, living in the Dark Ages or something?!”
“No,” I protest, rubbing my cheeks with my palms to disguise the blush still building there. “It’s just… I just…”
“What?”
I sigh, leaning back against my pillows. “I don’t know, Kara. It just hasn’t been the right time.”
Kara stands, taking the magazine with her, and looks me dead in the eyes. “Girl,” she says, her tone very serious. “You’ve got to make it the right time. You’ve got to get on this.” Promising to call me later, Kara hugs me and leaves, leaving me to wonder if my friend is right. Maybe it is time…“Okay,” I whisper to myself, holding my cell phone. “I can do this.”
I sit cross-legged on the bed, where I’ve been since Kara left hours before. Anticipation feels like a balloon inflating in my chest. I know it’s time to do the badump-a-dump with Donnie. After all, we’ve been dating three months. We’ve experimented with some heavy petting, of course, but the sex itself just hasn’t happened yet. Maybe tonight will be the night.
On my phone, I go to my text thread with Donnie, which is full of kissy-face emojis and back-and-forth conversations.
Can’t wait to see you soon, I type. I was thinking that maybe it’s time we…
“Ugh,” I say, deleting what I’ve typed so far. There has to be a better way to say this.
I wondered if you wanted to…
Delete.
Do you think you’re ready to…
Delete.
I wanna f*ck your brains out.
Definitely delete.
I throw my phone to the edge of the bed, clutching a pillow to my chest. Is it that I can’t find the right words, or that I don’t want to? The truth is, I’m not that attracted to Donnie, no matter how hard I try to be. While I don’t want to be one of those girls who is all about appearances, it’s still hard to look past his face full of acne and his sweaty palms. His voice has a perpetual whine to it, and he sometimes makes immature jokes that I’m forced to pretend to laugh at. I can’t help but wonder if I could do better.