This was it. This would be the night. For most people it was their prom night, at least in a bunch of TV shows, but tonight was Brie’s own special night. The night she lost her V-card.
That’s how Chelsi talked about it anyway. Brie’s roommate hadn’t done it on her prom night either; Chels was way ahead of the curve on that one (because she had plenty of curves of her own, as she liked to say). Freshman year, in the back of her tennis coach’s car, and she’d have a nice long laugh if you suggested that she use “magical” as one of her descriptors. Brie had quickly learned that she had to go hang out with Ashley and Tamara, the girls across the hall, if she ever wanted a Disney movie nostalgia night.
“There’s nothing magical about it, hon,” Chelsi’d said. “But it does mean you’re opening up a whole new world of fun. You got to give up your V-card and let him hold onto his man card, and there you go. More fun for everyone.”
V-cards, man cards, these weren’t things Brie had ever talked about with her friends in high school. They were the viola section of the orchestra in a small private school, the raciest they had ever gotten was discussing whether it was okay for Tracey to french her cello boyfriend after dating for only 2 weeks.
But now that Brie was a college freshman, she had her own boyfriend, finally, and she’d frenched him after just one week! She was excited about breaking out of shy flower mode so quickly, and she told Chels all about it as soon as she could.
Chels had told her to not call it frenching ever again, but congratulated Brie anyway before heading out to spend the night with some guy.
That’s where she was tonight, too, spending the night with some guy. Chels called him ‘her boyfriend, Dave,’ but there was a different one every week, so Brie didn’t think any of them really counted as boyfriends.
It was handy that Chels was gone for the night so Brie could pump herself up for the night. She’d put on a playlist of girl power music, blasting it as loud as you politely could in a dorm room, and spent the whole evening primping and strutting around the room, swaying her hips in what she hoped would be a seductive way.
She put on her nicest, laciest black bra and a scoop neck top that showed a decent (or indecent, depending on how you looked at it) amount of cleavage. Or it would if she had any. She considered stuffing her bra with socks and tried it out, posing for the mirror for the fifteen minutes before she remembered that Justin would discover them there when the bra came off.
And changed into a shirt with a slightly higher neckline.
She searched through the playlist until she found the song that she and the violas had listened to in the car that night that she had smiled at this random cute boy at the FroYo shop. It had been a big night for her.
He was a really cute guy, the FroYo Guy. But Justin was cute, too. His eyes were brown, not blue, and his hair was blond, not brown, but he was really nice and funny and in two of her classes.
And he was going to love tonight. Brie liberally drew on her eyeliner, something she didn’t usually use much of, but she was going for something sultry and smolder-y. Chelsi always managed to do it.
Brie borrowed a bright red lipstick from Chelsi’s dresser, knowing her friend wouldn’t mind. When Brie pouted into the mirror, though, she thought it seemed kind of hookerish and washed it off. Then she figured that was maybe the look she was going for, and reapplied it.
She got out of the dorm real quickly after that so she couldn’t change her mind.
Brie went down two floors to where Justin’s dorm was, hiding her face in her shoulder in case she passed anyone she knew.
When he opened the door, she tried to stand in a way that would flatter both her boobs and butt. She was so focused on seeing if he noticed that they both exchanged greetings before she remembered that she was supposed to be all pushy and sexy. She shoved him backwards into his dorm room.
“What’s going on, Brie?” he asked, completely missing the sexy-time makeup. “What’s up with the—” he gestured at her face.
So maybe he had noticed, then.
“I just thought,” she said in what she hoped was a sultry purr. “Maybe we could,” she thrust out her chest, “Do something special tonight.”
He wasn’t looking at her body like he wanted to ravage it. He was just looking confused.
“Have you been drinking?”
After a moment’s though, she said, “Yes.” She hadn’t been, but it would probably make her seem wild and crazy if she said yes. And she was drunk on girl power, anyway.
“No you haven’t,” he said immediately. “What are you doing here, exactly?”
“I just came to see you, and maybe…” She flipped her hair over her eyes and looked up at him through it. “We could do things. Or each other.”
She knew as soon as that one was out of her mouth that it was the worst way she could have ever phrased it.
Justin’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh.
Which was the most mortifying reaction she could have anticipated. Brie’s throat closed up like she was about to cry.
Justin’s face quieted down. He reached out to hold her shoulders.
“Brie, look. It’s not that you aren’t beautiful and tempting and of course I’d like to, but,” he shook his head. “Not like this. Not—”
He searched for words as he looked down at her. Brie filled in possible options in her mind as she waited. Not with you looking like a tramp. Not until your skin clears up. Not when you’re in danger of achieving the freshman fifteen.
“Not tonight,” he finished.
He nodded, in the way people nod when they are actually asking a question. She nodded back.
He grinned the big smile that she liked so much. “Can I walk you back up to your room?”
“Yeah, okay.” Justin took her hand in his but she immediately yanked it back. “I just want to was my face first, it that okay?”
“Sure, of course.” He stepped aside so she could get to the sink. She realized, too late, as she walked over, that she’d forgotten to wear heels.
