First Love

We were watching “Team American: World Police” on my tiny college mattress. My room mate, Linda, was out for the night so we had the whole 12×12 room to ourselves. To say my mattress was about the width of a desk chair would be an over-statement. The glorified “cot” was extra long and extra lean, making me feel deeply sorry for anyone over 175lbs who tried to sleep comfortably.

I turned on my laptop and turned off the lights, bathing the room in the blue glow from the screen. He was sitting on my pillows, trying to seem comfortable; but I knew better. I scrambled on to the tiny space and tried to relax into the experience. “This is a great movie, very funny.” I reiterated, trying to sound like I wasn’t nervous. I really, really liked this guy. He nodded in approval as I hit play.

To try and watch a stupid satirical south-park-esk movie on a third date is pretty tough when you’re watching said movie for the first time with that person. I would recommend watching “Team America” with someone who has seen it before, someone who can chant along the silly verses and the ridiculous one-liners with you. Not someone who really doesn’t have the same sense of satire or really no clue about South Park in general.

So, there I was, acutely aware of where our bodies were pressing together and trying really hard to laugh along with the opening. I kept glancing at him and trying to read his face. Was he enjoying himself? He didn’t look like it. And his small attempt at a smile was making me nervous.

I thought back to the last few dates we had been on. The first one where he picked me up in his parent’s cool Mitsubishi and took me off campus for an egg sandwich while listening to Jamie Cullum’s “I’m All at Sea” and talking pleasantly about how stupid our theatre class we had met in was. The second one where he took me to play pool and, being that I was so bad, I had him “show” me how to hit a ball better. When he leaned over me and put his hands on mine I felt a flutter. I liked him so much!

Tonight was the third freakin’ date and we still hadn’t kissed. I could feel the pressure building, especially since earlier that week one of my girlfriend’s and I decided to have a race and see who could lose their virginity first. We were 18 and in our second semester of freshman year, let’s get it ON! I was determined not to be a desperate virgin, though. I would not do it with just anyone. I promised myself that the person I’d have sex with would need to be someone special. And He was pretty special. I could tell.

The opening of the movie finished and I hadn’t even heard so much as a guffaw from him. I felt stupid for even suggesting this movie. I needed to make a move to save what felt like a dying third date. I looked at him. “It’s an acquired taste, I guess.” I said. He smiled. We looked at each other for a couple seconds, I felt my body inch toward him, my pulse quickening; then I looked back at the film, pretending to be absorbed in the plot.

Fuck! FUCK! I was scared! I wanted to kiss him, but didn’t have the guts. Up until that point I had drunkenly made out with a couple people, but kissing was still a new concept for me. Especially kissing someone I really liked. Jesus, if I can’t even get the balls to kiss him, how will I ever lose my virginity or  (even worse!!) love anyone?

“Freedom Isn’t Free” struck up in the movie. I made a move by awkwardly rolling on top of him and sticking my tongue right in his mouth. THERE! I did it! We wound up awkwardly making out for about 30 seconds before I started laughing hysterically, catching myself by surprise at my boldness. “I really like you.” I said, feeling myself blush.

“I like you, too, Nat.” He replied, laughing with me.

I hugged him. I was still sitting in his belly, but I went for the bent-over crunch anyway. The hug felt good. It felt right.

He’s the one. I thought. I’m so lucky. 

And I was right.

December 28, 2012 at 9:21 pm by Natalie Allen