“It’s worth it,” I whisper.
“Oh, it’s so worth it.” He kisses me again and I reach up and undo his tie just enough so that I can pull open the buttons of his shirt. He reaches behind me and I can feel him struggling with the zipper of my prom dress. I help guide his hand and pull the zipper down, rolling the dress off my body. Reaching out, I undo his belt and then he zips down his fly, the sound of it loud in the quiet room. I can’t see him but I can feel him, can feel his hands as they slide my underwear down over my hips, as they touch me in a place that’s never been touched before. I gasp as he moves his fingers there, reaching my own hands into his boxers and touching him.
I realize suddenly that this is what it’s supposed to feel like—this ache between my legs, this urgent need in my chest, the feeling in my stomach like bubbling champagne. This was how I never felt with Dean, upstairs in that beautiful suite, on the canopy bed, where everything was supposed to be perfect.
I reach into my purse and pull out the condom—the one I had planned to use earlier. Fumbling, I hand it to him in the dark and listen as he rips it open and slides it on.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his whisper tickling my ear.
“Yes,” I say, and I am. I’m suddenly so sure that I might die if he doesn’t continue.
“I love you so much,” he whispers against my mouth.
“I love you too,” I whisper back.
And so I lose my virginity on prom night, and it isn’t perfect, because how could I expect it to be? Here’s what I’ve realized about moments: you can’t plan for them. The best ones are always the ones that take you by surprise.
THIRTY-FOUR
SO WHAT I DIDN’T know is that pulling a fire alarm is a misdemeanor, which means it goes on my record and I could actually go to jail.
Luckily that doesn’t happen.
What happens is this: Andrew and I come out of the cupboard eventually and are taken down to the station. Andrew’s uncle calls his parents, who then call my parents, and soon they’re all at the police station with me, pulled out of bed in pajamas and bathrobes and all with something to say. My parents have never been so mad at me (not just about the alarm, but also the hotel room, and the whiskey, and the whole resisting arrest thing), and when they eventually tire of yelling, Andrew’s parents step in and take over. In the end, I’m fined seven hundred dollars, which I’ll be working for months at the video store to pay back. I would say that spending all summer with Dean is the worst thing I could possibly imagine, but it beats jail. Barely.
Andrew is thrilled by the fact that I’m officially a criminal. When I wake up the morning after prom, his truck is waiting in my driveway. I’m supposed to be grounded until graduation, but my parents give me five minutes to talk to him. Secretly, I think the exception is because of how excited they are that we’re together; I have to keep reminding my mom we’re too young for her to make jokes about our babies.
When I open the door to his truck, I’m struck immediately by the smell of pizza. He’s wearing his glasses—which I love—and when I see him I’m suddenly shy, remembering everything that happened between us. What’s funny is I don’t really feel any different after having sex with Andrew. It turns out losing your virginity is kind of like having a birthday. No one can tell just by looking at you if you’re seventeen or eighteen, if you’ve slept with one person or ten or no one at all. I thought having sex would magically change me, but Andrew didn’t turn me into the girl I am now. I did that all on my own.
“I brought you breakfast,” Andrew says, holding a pizza box in my direction.
“It’s morning,” I say back. But I climb in beside him and open the box, toasting my slice of pepperoni against his.
“Should I have asked for mushrooms?” he asks. “I heard you like those now.”
“Shut up.” I shove him with my shoulder.
He’s grinning and adorable. “You know, I never would have guessed that between us, you’d be the felon.”
“You still have time,” I say, my grin matching his. “Don’t count yourself out.”
“You’re right. I’ve got way too much time this summer to get up to no good now that I’m out a job.”
“But you didn’t pull the alarm! Your uncle can’t blame you for what I did.”
“I’m an accessory to the crime, remember?”
“Speaking of accessories,” I say with a wicked smile, “any chance you can get your hands on a fireman uniform?”
“If you wanted me to do a sexy fireman dance for you, you should have thought of it before you pissed off the whole Prescott fire department.” He picks a pepperoni off his slice and pops it into his mouth. “I’ve been thinking of telling my parents I’m not a vegan, actually. It seems like the right time, you know, while everyone’s so mad at you.”
I laugh, leaning over to kiss him. “I guess love makes you do crazy things.” At the word love, his smile gets even wider and I see his cheeks redden. It still doesn’t feel real. We love each other. He’s mine and I’m his. That’s worth seven hundred dollars.
Graduation comes a week later, out on the field at school, under a big white tent. Hannah, Andrew, and I go together, piled into Hannah’s Jeep with the old wrappers and the trash bags, just like always. I was worried things might be weird now between the three of us, now that two of us are dating—but the thing is, as Hannah puts it, nothing has changed at all. “You and Andrew have been dating since sixth grade,” she told me, waving my concerns away when I asked.
Hannah is officially back together with Charlie, which doesn’t make me happy, but I know it’s my job as her best friend to support her no matter what. He’ll probably break her heart again. I’ll just have to be there for her when he does.
When we get to the field, we mingle with the parents for a bit, taking so many pictures it feels like prom all over again. But I don’t mind it now; this is something to remember. Right now, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.
I want to check the mirror before the ceremony starts, so I head into the school, through the multipurpose room and into the women’s bathrooms. The school is empty and quiet—quieter than I’ve ever heard it, and it strikes me that this might be the very last time I’ll ever be inside this building, seeing this shiny linoleum floor, the blue and white tiles on the walls.
I’ll never come back here, not if I can help it. But it still feels sad in a way.
I push open the swinging bathroom door and then stop, surprised. Danielle is sitting on the ledge of the sink, her face smudged with mascara. When she sees me, she hastily reaches a hand up to wipe away tears.