Worrying to the Point of Blank

I worry a lot. Do you worry a lot? I want you to answer yes, that you do worry a lot so it makes me feel better about myself. I worry about a lot of things: rent, student loan, unhappiness, loneliness and having a hopeless future. The pathetic thing is that I’m only fifteen and I shouldn’t be worrying about all these things. After all, for the time being, I live with my parents, I have friends, I think I’m quite happy and I’m intelligent enough to be useful in a variety of jobs. Maybe I should worry about not having a first kiss at this age. I know this twelve year old girl at my Church that has done it with two different guys. She’s not a slut, she’s just really lucky. If a twelve year old can get her virginity spiked, why haven’t I received my first kiss? Is it because I’m ugly? Do I come across as a bitch or a lesbian…or both? Or am I not putting out enough? I always see these girls at my school giggling and touching these unfunny idiots and they’re the ones that are getting a whole lot of somethin’. Am I willing to compromise my beliefs and values to lock lips with someone I won’t even care about in ten years?

Yes I am. Because I’m tired of worrying. I’m tired of sleepless nights and hitched breaths. I’m tired of panicking and feeling like I’m standing in one spot while everybody else is zooming far ahead of me. Since I am not attracted to the immature paper throwers at my school, I am going clubbing with my two experienced close friends Melanie and Amanda. Melanie and Amanda are best friends that go clubbing all the time; the first time they ever went, they got their first kiss, the second time, Amanda gave head for the first time and about the fifth time they went, Melanie lost her virginity. With those facts, I have concluded that going clubbing is the best way to receive my first kiss and check off a box on my worry list.

There’s an all ages event at Soul Francais a “sick” (Melanie’s words, not mine) suburban club and I have finally accepted Melanie and Amanda’s pleas for me to go clubbing with them. When we enter the venue, it’s very crowded and I can spot from mile away thirteen year olds with their boobs to their chin (pushup bra) and a few prepubescent boys looking to get laid. I sigh and roll my eyes as I feel an I’m-pathetic rush surge through me.

“Eww there are so many niners here,” I complain wrinkling my nose.

“It’s just today, all the hot older guys are upstairs, come on let’s go,” Amanda grabs my arm and we snake through the smelly crowd and up the stairs. There are slightly less people upstairs but it’s still hot and uniformed with a bunch of people. It’s black with a bunch of different colour strobe lights and the music pounds through my ears.

“So…where are the hot guys?” I ask.

“WHAT?” Amanda and Melanie say in unison.

“WHERE ARE THE HOT GUYS?”

“JUST START DANCING AND ONE WILL COME ALONG.” Melanie yells in reply.

“OKAY!” I answer.

I’m not really feeling the atmosphere, but I begin to dance and sway my hips to the music. After a while, I get so into the music that I loose track of my surroundings. When I snap back into reality, I see Amanda and Melanie practically grinding each other and an eighteen-year old guy thrusting his pelvic at Melanie’s ass.

“WOAH!” I yell to them. They look at me slyly and continue to dance. I feel uncomfortable standing there and watching them grind each other. Like a voyeur. Maybe I should join them. No, I’d feel trashy and undignified.

“WELL GUYS, I’M GONNA GO AND GET A DRINK OKAY?”

They don’t answer; they’re too busy having a threesome on the dance floor. I walk to the bar-a more secluded quieter area thank god-and ask for a Coke. The bartender is quite attractive; he is black and white mixed with short curly hair, hazel eyes and full sensuous lips.

“Hey beautiful, having fun?”

“Not really but I just came, so, you know hopefully this place has more in store for me. ARGH,” I cringe. “That was a totally lame cliché line. Sorry.”

He laughs, “don’t be so hard on yourself, I get a bunch of dumbasses tripping themselves drunk with stupid phrases all the time.”

“Well you’re the one that serves them the drinks so it’s kinda your fault, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is. I shouldn’t really be talking should I?”

“Nope, but it’s your job to get people intoxicated so I won’t hold it against you.”

He grins, “Good. Good. I know a lady never reveals her age but I’m gonna take a little risk here. How old are you?”

“You’re right, a lady never reveals her age, instead she asks the guy first then answers.”

“Twenty-three.”

“Eighteen,” I lie.

“Listen, my shift is over in about a minute. Do you wanna dance?”

“Yeah, sure!”

After he clocks out, (or whatever bartenders do to signify the end of a shift) we begin dancing and I feel quite sexy and desired because I have a guy grinding on me and getting happy in more places than one.

“You’re a good dancer,” he whispers into my ear.

“Well, I try.”

“Do you wanna go outside? It’s quieter.”

“Okay.”

He leads me outside through some top secret exit door that nobody but the bartenders know about. We pass Melanie and Amanda-they are now dancing with two different guys-they see me and shoot me a smirk.

“So where are you from?”

I wrap my hands around my arms, mentally cursing myself for only wearing a tube top and short denim skirt.

“Umm around here. You?”

“I live in Toronto.”

“Why there are no cool clubs in Toronto for you to bartend?”

“Nahh…just the girls here are cuter,” he says and winks at me.

“My car is just over there and you look pretty cold, do you wanna go inside?”

“Uhh…” My conscience is firmly telling me to say no and go back to the club to Melanie and Amanda. But the other part of me-the part desperate and horny for male attention says otherwise. And we all know which one I choose.

“Sure, let’s go.” He places his arm around my back and guides me further into the lot of cars. There are some people standing around making out, so I feel pretty safe. His car is nice-looking and that’s all I can say because I don’t know shit about vehicles.

He opens the door and gestures for me to sit in the back. He slips into the car and sits next to me and locks the door.

“Lemme just turn on the heater,” he turns on the engine and reaches over to the driver’s seat to turn the heater on.

“So you’re eighteen huh? What’s your name?”

“Sarah,” I answer honestly. “Yours?”

“Rick. So Sarah...” he scoots closer to me so our legs are touching.

“So?” I answer bluntly. “How long have you been bartending for?”

“Since I was twenty one, what can I say I just couldn’t stay outta the club.”

“Hmm…so Rick, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever witnessed here?”

He places his hand on this chin, as if pondering on the question. “Well I needed to take a quick piss and I went into the staff bathroom to do my thing; I ignored the out of order sign on the door because we always put it up so people can use the main bathroom instead of ours. I went in there and there was a big man orgy. Shocked me stiff.”

“Stiff?” I raise my eyebrows and giggle, “you were stiff, weren’t you?”

“No, not stiff!” He tugs me playfully, “you know what I mean! But I will tell you what makes me stiff …you.”

Rick draws closer to my face and cups my chin with his hand. I close my eyes in anticipation and breathe a sigh of euphoria as his lips part my own. He places his other hand on my lower back and begins making circles with his index finger. Soon, the kiss deepens and I find myself gasping in delight as his tongue circles my lips. After a dizzying game of circling my lips, I finally capture Rick’s lips with mine and kiss him with a stronger sense of desire. His hand that is at my back moves to the front-at my stomach-and I squirm when it starts going lower.

“Umm…” I murmur against his lips.

“Don’t worry, I’m a master at this,” he says, his voice thick and hoarse.

I feel his hands come in contact with my pubic hair and I cringe at the thought of him touching my jungle of a mound. I should have trimmed before this.

“Err…Rick.”

“Shhh, just feel it.” My stomach clenches as I feel his hands go lower and lower. He slips a finger into me and I shudder in response to the coldness of it.

“See that feels good doesn’t it?”

“Well, not exactly…”

“Do you want me to go in deeper?” He doesn’t wait before I answer and I scream as he practically shoves his finger up my vagina.

“Motherfucker! I’m a virgin. Take your hand out!” I yell in pain.

“Oh!” He obeys by command and slips his finger out and I push away from him.

“Fuck you’re bleeding,” he says as he examines his finger. To my surprise, Rick is utterly mesmerized, instead of being horrified like I expected him to be.

“Do you wanna do something else then? Have you ever given head?”

“Look, you’re nice and a great conversationalist but no and no I don’t wanna give head. Just open the door and let me out.”

“Are you even eighteen?” He asks without making any motion to open the door.

“Just open the door,” I say firmly.

“It’s okay if you’re not. I like you…and...you’re a good kisser.”

I wonder how many times he’s said that.

“I’m flattered but please open the door. Now.”

He groans and I hear a click as he presses a button on his key. “Melanie said you’d be willing to do anything.”

“Wait, what?”

“Nothing.”

I breathe in the fumes of hot air as I soak in the warm soapy bathtub. I feel like such a whore. Why didn’t I just lower my standards and settle for one of the unfunny and immature idiots in my grade? Why did I stupidly enter a stranger’s car and let him stick his probably unsanitary hand in my vagina? Oh god. I lower myself into the bath and sulk in self pity. Melanie, Melanie, Melanie. I suppose it’s not her fault that I got my cherry popped. Still, I hate her so much for doing this. She told one of her casual fuck buddies-Rick-that I was her desperate friend who needed to be wooed and fucked. And fortunately for this horndog, I happened to be at the right place at the right time. How did he even know it was me? Did I have a sign that said “Desperate Fool Seeks to be Violated”?

Well, I did get my first kiss. Check.