I wasn’t your typical teenager. Instead of boozing, drugging, and spinning the bottle, I had my nose inside a book and only wanted to hold hands. For a moment in high school, I thought I was asexual. A guy would swoop in and try to kiss me and I’d panic. No wonder my first kiss wasn’t till 16.
Luckily, I grew out of that phase while in my twenties. I was still tame compared to my trashed and slutty comrades, but I did randomly make out with boys when on Spring Break (Cancun 1997! Woohoo!). No one night stands though. No wild regretul nights or a oops-I-slipped-my-penis-in-your-vagina fuck.
I was just that good.
The thing is I haven’t always enjoyed being the good girl. Bad girls seem to care less. Bad girls seem to have more fun and check their emotions at the door. Their lifestyle seems less emotionally taxing, which is why I’ve tried to shake my innocent and prudish ways. Mostly, I’ve failed. But not for lack of trying (New York City 2002! Woohoo! Or is it boohoo? I cried after being a naughty slut once). I was even intent on spending “alone time” (hint, hint) with Paco at my sister’s wedding in Hilton Head Island.
My plan was as follows. Greet Paco. Flash him my dazzling smile. Get a bit tipsy. When tipsy, continue the flirtation that began over Twitter months before, and, maybe, just maybe, we’d kiss. And I’d flash him a boob. And my pepa?
What actually happened was as follows. Greeted Paco on the beach. Felt extremely nervous while doing so therefore my smile wasn’t as dazzling. Got a bit tipsy. When tipsy, continued to speak to my cousin, Tomiko, about how badly I wanted to flirt with Paco, but how initimidated I was of him not reciprocating. We didn’t kiss. When we had alone time, we hardly communicated.
I felt like I was a teenager again.
Why don’t I initiate? I questioned myself during the wedding after party. Paco had shown signs of interest. He was constantly checking me (and my fine ass) out and, like the attentive gentleman he was during our first date, he bought me drinks. Took care of me just like that. But it wasn’t enough. I often need more than just a smile and a drink. I need reassurance, which usually comes in the form of affection, attention, and quality time. Paco was also busy mingling with friends. He had a natural confidence that sometimes resonated as arrogant detachment. And that didn’t make me feel too sure of his interest.
Still, I noted his whereabouts at the after party. At one point I realized I hadn’t seen him in a while. My cousin Tomiko also noticed and mentioned it to me.
I felt like he’d met someone.
The night ended with the wedding party and guests at the beach. We were all there. My sisters friends and family as well as my brother in law’s. All expect for Paco.
I knew in my gut he had met someone.
The next day it was confirmed. After spending 3 hours with Paco, my cousin Tomiko, and another friend, I met up with the bride for dinner. She greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and a bomb.
“Paco hooked up with my friend last night.”
My heart sunk. I knew something happened with someone, I told my sister. This taints things, whatever this was, I confided. And in that moment I wished I could have been bad for one night. Maybe he would have picked me. I was hardly ever picked as a teenager. Maybe if I was a bad girl I would have had a first kiss.
Too bad I was just that good.