FIRSTS Stories: The Boys Tell All

FIRSTS: Chapter 3

I wasn't lying to Zach. I really do have an assignment after school. I'm meeting with two other people from my French class, people I have to work with not by choice but by where my name falls in the alphabet. Adams, Ames, Ayres.

"Adams" and "Ames" are friends outside of class, which makes me feel like even more of an outsider. Adams—whose first name is Laura—went to my elementary school and we actually used to be friends, before life got complicated by boys and boobs and the hierarchy of high school popularity. I toyed with the idea of inviting Laura and the other girl over to do the assignment at my house but chickened out. Anything could go wrong at my house. They could stumble upon my negligee collection or my condom stash. So I suggested the library instead, which screams (actually, whispers, since screaming is disallowed) professionalism.

Or, is supposed to, until Laura shows up in tears, interrupting the silence at our table.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Ames—Britney, "spelled like the singer"—jumps to her feet and wraps an arm around her sobbing friend.

"I think Trevor is going to dump me." Laura wipes her face on her sleeve. "We had this whole plan. For this weekend. You know." She drops her voice, as if she's just now noticing I'm here and realizing she hasn't spoken to me in years. I lower my eyes and pretend to be intensely interested in the list of French verbs we're supposed to be conjugating.

"You can talk in front of Mercedes," Britney says as Laura slumps into the chair across from me. She opens her mouth to say something else, but shuts it promptly. I know what she was about to say. You can trust Mercedes, she's a prayer group geek. I arch my eyebrow at her serious face, but try to soften my expression.

Laura looks up at me through her tears, as if deciding whether I'm an ally or an enemy. I smile weakly, not sure myself.

"So, what happened to the big plan? Did your parents decide not to go away? Or did Trevor get cold feet?" Britney chews the top of her pen.

Laura drops her head onto the table. Her hair spills onto my pencil case. "All I told him was that I was nervous. I was scared it was going to hurt. And he wasn't sensitive at all." She looks around, even though the tables beside ours are empty and there's nobody in sight besides Mrs. Woods, the ancient librarian. "He kept saying all these positions he wanted to try. I guess he was watching porn and got these ideas, and I just freaked out." She frowns and looks directly at me. For a terrifying second, I think she knows everything.

"Sorry. I'm sure you don't want to hear all this." She half-laughs, half-sobs.

I shake my head and shrug at the same time in an attempt to look both nonchalant and considerate. Laura would flip out and most certainly violate the library's vow of silence if she knew that I specialize in hearing stories like hers.

Britney pats her friend's arm sympathetically. "I remember my first time. It does hurt. But Orlando was, like, so sweet. He kept saying how beautiful I was." She flutters her eyelashes.

I rest my head against my palm and pretend to take study notes, but my jaw is tightening. I taught him that, told him to say beautiful when he really meant hot. There's only one Orlando at Milton High. I remember him as the Watcher, because of the way he stared at me before, during, and after I took his virginity. Except he wasn't with Britney then. He was with a girl named Clara, a girl he told me he loved. I helped him make a special night for her, even told him a romantic out-of-the-way hotel to take her to. He told me he planned to be with Clara forever. I guess forever didn't even last halfway through senior year. I don't know if I'm angry or disappointed to hear that Orlando and Clara are over, or if I even have a right to be either one.