The One Who Only Lasted One Night
Writing this chapter was really difficult for me. I hate to think about this and I hate to talk about it. Luckily, it happened so long ago that no one really remembers it so I'm not subject to random conversations involving the embarrassment that was this night. I have lied about and vehemently denied that this event ever took place, but it did and so without further ado, here are the details of my first and only (technically) one night stand.
After my prom date with Todd, I was frustrated with guys. Were there just no good ones out there? Did I have to give up on men at the young age of 16? That sounded like such a depressing idea. But that's when I met Peter. He didn't go to our school but was always hanging around my group of friends so I saw him pretty much everywhere. I thought he was cute from the moment I laid eyes on him but he didn't appear to have noticed me so I didn't really think twice about him. This all changed on the last day of school.
Summer had finally arrived and I was going to be turning 17. Part of the summer break was going to be spent in France where I would be living with a family, joining in their daily activities and sightseeing. I couldn't wait; I had been excited for this all year. But a month was a long time to be away from all my friends and I was starting to regret the decision I had made. Four weeks doesn't seem like a long time now, but back then I felt as if I would be missing out on everything if I left Portland even for a weekend.
The day school let out, we heard about a party going on at someone's house. It wasn't really their house yet - it was still under construction. But whatever, that really didn't matter as long as we could get a keg into the backyard. We made the drive out there and all slid down the muddy hill to the fire that had been built and we started drinking. I was driving so I stuck to water but soon noticed a rather intoxicated Peter making his way over to me. We chatted for a little bit and bonded over the fact that we shared the same birthday. He walked me to the fire so we could keep warm and put his arm around me, telling me how cute I looked in my hooded sweatshirt. Well isn't that just the sweetest thing you've ever heard?
I didn't want to put too much thought into Peter's advances because he was, after all, intoxicated and since he had never shown any interest before, I could only assume that it was the alcohol talking and not him. But I was wrong, kind of. Peter asked for my number and called me the next day. We didn't go out but we spoke on the phone and agreed to meet up later in the week before I left for France.
Later in the week turned out to be a Thursday and I was scheduled to leave on Saturday. Peter picked me and my friend up from her house and drove us to a party. It was small and contained so we were able to hang out inside. Since I wasn't driving I had a little to drink and my inhibitions and better judgment started to fade along with my reasoning skills. I missed having a boyfriend, or so I thought. Mostly I just missed Michael and how great he had been at the beginning of our relationship. I'm not an angry drunk so instead of remembering all the bad things about my ex, I would always start remembering only the good. Since I was lonely, the only option for me was to find myself another boyfriend and this is what I set out to do.
Peter seemed like an obvious choice because he at least liked me enough to invite me out with his friends. Hey, it was a good place to start. It didn't really occur to me that he would mind my four week absence while abroad, but then again, nothing really occurred to me that night like it should have. At some point during the evening, Peter took me by the hand and led me upstairs. It must have been a spare bedroom or something because there was a mattress on the floor, a dollhouse in the corner and nothing else. We started making out and ended up on the mattress when he pulled away.
"I have a condom in my pocket," he said.
Well that's great, and I have a pink phone in my purse. What are you going to do about it? But I didn't say any of that. I stared at him as he looked at me expectantly. Is that the kind of girl that Peter wanted, the kind of girl who would sleep with him? It seemed like a reasonable thing to want coming from a nearly 17 year old dude. But it's not what I wanted. Certainly not what I would have normally done. But I was a little bit desperate, maybe very desperate, for his affection and thought that if I slept with him he would like me enough to make me his girlfriend.
I hate that this was my mentality back then. It's so embarrassing and so degrading. I swear to you, I'm not going to lecture anyone in any other chapter except for this one, but please just listen to me and I promise I won't take up much of your time. Girls, 98 times out of 100, a guy is not going to be your boyfriend just because you sleep with him. There's that one percent who actually turn out to be decent and the other one percent who you really shouldn't be dating to begin with. You don't need to sleep with a guy just to get his attention because, I swear to you, you are getting the wrong attention. This changes as you get older but only slightly. Always, no matter how old you are, if you want a guy to respect you, don't go throwing yourself at him because you obviously don't respect yourself. And guys, don't be assholes. Okay, I'm done.
Back to my stupidity. Peter could obviously see that I was making some sort of decision in my head so he kept talking.
"We don't have to do it if you don't want to. I mean, I know you're leaving for France soon so I just thought..." and he let my imagination fill in the rest. See, right then is when I should have pushed him off and ran away. This was his way of telling me that he didn't want anything more than sex.
In his mind, he was saying: you're leaving for France so I just thought we could do it without any strings attached.
In my mind, he said: you're leaving for France so I just thought we could make love so I will have something to remember you by during all those lonely nights while you are away and I'm missing you.
So my response was, "No, I want to."
I was rewarded with a huge smile from Peter and luckily he took his time undressing me. Actually, maybe if he had been in a hurry, I would have realized just how big of a mistake this was. But he was gentle with me and made me feel comfortable but as soon as he was naked and lying on top of me the worst possible thing happened. I heard the door being thrown open and in rushed a group of guys all cat-calling and hollering obscenities. I saw a camera flash about half a dozen times and then they disappeared. I couldn't breathe and was suddenly very, VERY sober.
I looked up at Peter who was glaring at the door. "Um...what was that? Please tell me that didn't just happen."
"I, um..." Peter started. "I think I need to go talk to someone."
And with that, he got up, put his jeans on and stormed out of the room. So there I was, lying naked on some old mattress, wondering what the hell I was going to do. There was a window I considered climbing out of but no other way out of the house unless I wanted to walk through that group of guys who had just seen me naked. Well, kind of naked. Peter was pretty much covering most of me, thank God!
But before I could make up my mind, Peter had come back and announced they wouldn't be bothering us. "Do you still want to do this? I'll understand if you don't. That was horrible what they just did."
"It was pretty bad," I agreed. But I was still naked and seriously thought that if I didn't have sex with Peter right then and there I would never have another chance and he would never be my boyfriend. "But we can still do it."
He looked relieved and we had sex on the old mattress. It wasn't good but I think both of us were too flustered to care. Peter held on to me pretty tight for the rest of the night. He knew I was mortified by what had happened and the looks he was giving the other guys told them not to mention a thing or he would take them out back and kick their ass. He dropped me off that night and apologized for everything, telling me that he never wanted it to be like that but promising me he had a good time regardless. I told him I would call him before I left and watched as he drove off.
I kept my promise and called him the next day. I was hoping he would ask me out, maybe invite me over to watch a movie. But he was busy that night, going to another party with his friends. He told me to have a good time abroad and maybe he would see me later in the summer. I hung up and started crying. Luckily, Paris was a great way to get over a guy. I was so distracted that I didn't have time to think about Peter until I realized I had missed my period. I was a mess and couldn't bring myself to ask my host family to drive me to a drug store so I could get a pregnancy test. I didn't even know how to say that in French.
The flight home was nerve racking. Now that there was a possibility I was carrying Peter's kid, I wanted him more than ever. I couldn't help but wonder if he would be waiting for me at the airport. I knew it was a long shot, but once I started day dreaming about it, I couldn't push it from my head. To my surprise, I did have a welcoming party waiting for me at the gate. My four best friends were there to meet me with flowers and balloons and I started crying the second I saw them. I was so happy to be home.
Can I just tell you how great my friends are? Ali took me to Planned Parenthood and I took a pregnancy test. Negative. I guess the excitement and stress of my temporary home and recent one night stand just shocked my body into missing a period. Who cares about the reason? I was just glad not to be pregnant!
Betsy informed me that it was Hamilton's camera that had taken the pictures that night. Thank God it was a disposable and not a digital. She had it in her possession and we were going to destroy the evidence. One night, not long after I got home, Betsy, Hannah and I all drove down to a one hour photo booth. We developed the pictures, laughed our asses off at the faces Peter and I were making, and took them to a park where we proceeded to burn them. Looking back, flushing the photos down the toilet would have been a better idea because our little fire got slightly out of control and we all ended up melting the rubber off our shoes because we had to stomp it out before the entire field went up in flames.
After Peter, I vowed that I would not sleep with another guy until I was in a committed relationship. The stress of this one night stand had definitely not been worth the bad sex. Needless to say, I was looking forward to avoiding all the parties Peter would attend, but as luck would have it, Peter ended up transferring to Lincoln for most of senior year. It was awkward to see him around and even more awkward when we were both hanging out with the same people. I didn't talk to him for a while, just because it was easier that way, and he respected that. But eventually I got over it and we started talking again. The last time I saw him was on our 21st birthday where we ran into each other at a bar. We bought each other drinks and hugged like old friends, all the embarrassment of our one night stand far behind us, but my lesson has still been learned.