The Kids Don't Stand A Chance

My mind was in a complete haze as Kylie and I walked towards Matt’s house, where already we could hear the typical noises made at a party. Strutting with complete confidence, Kylie looked fantastic – and she knew it. I, on the other hand, felt like I could blend in to the sidewalk. I didn’t bother putting on the slightest bit of makeup, and my thinking when I picked my outfit certainly wasn’t ‘dress to impress.’

I held the door open for Kylie, watching as she walked in as if she owned the place. Girls said hi to her as we passed, and boys winked at her. How did Kylie take it all in? As if she had been experiencing this her entire life. “There’s Zack,” she said, suddenly stopping and pointing him out to me. Gosh, he looked good. “Now, if only I could find Brad…”

“He has to be around here somewhere,” I mumbled, looking towards Zack. Finally his eyes caught mine, and he waved to me with a cheerful smile.

“Aw, look at that! He adores you!” Kylie cooed, clasping one of my hands in hers. Before I could respond, she suddenly gasped. “Maybe he loves you!”

I rolled my eyes, trying to pry my hand out of her grasp. “Kylie, quit it. We’re seventeen years old. We don’t know what love it.”

“Does anyone?” She retorted, and then exclaimed, “Oh, there’s Brad!” I tried to get one final word in, but I wasn’t sure why I even bothered. I eyed her with skepticism as her hands roamed over Brad’s chest as they greeted each other.

“Hey babe,” I heard someone mutter in my ear, and my knees felt week as a pair of strong arms wrapped around my middle. Turning around in his embrace, I felt my smile falter when I saw his naturally bright grin. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah,” I squeaked, burying my face in his chest. What was really me being embarrassed, ashamed, guilty, scared and anxious, Zack mistook for affection, and I could feel him pulling me in tighter. “What’re you drinking?” I asked suddenly, trying to peer into his red cup that he had in one hand. In a matter of seconds I had decided that if I was ever going to drink, tonight was going to be the night.

“Are you thirsty?” Zack questioned, his brow rising in confusion. I didn’t blame him – even I felt like I was being out of character. I nodded, trying to pull the cup from his grasp, but he just moved it further away from me. “Do you want water?”

“No,” I mumbled, still trying to take his drink from him. I needed to make tonight bearable for myself.

“But you don’t drink,” he responded harshly, and I froze. How was I going to explain my sudden change of mind to him?

“There’s a time for everything, right?” I explained slowly, flashing a small smile.

Zack sighed. “Fine. I’ll fix you something light.”

“Can it be stronger?” I begged, feeling like a small child asking their parents for their first sip of alcohol. Zack turned to me, his lips curved into a frown.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” He asked yet again, and I nodded vigorously.

“I just want… to have a good time, you know?”

“And you need alcohol to do that?” His voice went up a bit, and I felt myself sink back in shame.

“Quit giving me such a hard time, Zack,” I muttered, shoving my hands in my pockets. “I want something to drink.”

“Fine,” he sighed, running his fingers through his curly hair. Without speaking he began mixing for me a bit of each drink on the table, and I peered over his shoulder with great interest. “Here,” he said lowly, handing me my drink. Slowly, and with the upmost caution, I took the smallest of sips. Zack watched me carefully, and he frowned when I could barely swallow. “Give it back,” he mumbled, extending his hand in hopes that I would hand him the cup back.

“No,” I responded, clutching it closer to me. “I’m still getting used to it.”

“You know what, fine,” Zack exclaimed. “Drink it. See if I care.” My face fell, and I looked down at my cup. Zack was completely right – on any other day, I wouldn’t have had any alcohol, not matter what the circumstances of the party were. But the circumstances surrounding the party tonight were different, and I decided that I was going to take one last sip.

Obviously, two sips wouldn’t have any affect on me, but maybe I could mentally covince myself that they would.

After handing Zack back the drink like had had previously asked me too, I filled the open space in my hand with his. “Can we go upstairs?” I asked. “I just wanna spend time with you.” Zack nodded and we began to push through the crowd so we could make our way upstairs. I tried as hard as I could to even out my breathing, and the closer we got to the bedroom furthest down the hallway, the more nervous I became.

I sat down on the bed, twiddling my fingers while Zack locked the door. He sat his drink down on a wooden dresser, and made his way towards me. The bed creaked under his weight, and Zack’s hand intertwined itself with my own. His free hand came up to my face, brushing back a piece of my light blonde hair, and trailing down my cheek. I shivered under his touch, and he slowly brought his lips towards mine. His kiss was light, tender, and almost enjoyable. The feeling in my stomach, however, wouldn’t go away.

Slowly things began to get more heated, and I brought my hand under his shirt, tracing the outlines of the muscles on his stomach. Zack’s fingers were toying with the clasp of my bra, his other hand slowly beginning to pull up the hem of my shirt. I pulled my mouth from his, and helped him pull my shirt over my head. He stared at my chest, resulting in a fierce blush from me. Not wanting him to look at me any longer, I captured his lips in mine again, and felt him quickly finish undoing my bra.

By the time Zack was in just his boxers and I was only in my underwear, I knew that I would have to ask him. “Do you have a condom?” I questioned quickly, pushing away the small pile of clothing that had formed on the bed.

“Yeah,” muttered Zack, reaching down into his jeans that had been strewn on the floor. He fished out his wallet, and held up the small packet with a triumphant grin on his face. I took his hand and tried to pull him back to me, to kiss him again, to try and start so we could finish sooner, but Zack paused. “Are you sure you want this?” He asked, pushing back a piece of hair that was covering my eyes. I felt my stomach tighten.

“Yeah,” I replied with as much confidence as I could muster up. He didn’t respond for a few seconds.

“Wait,” Zack interrupted. “Is that why you wanted to drink during the party?” I didn’t say anything, instead just took the foil packet from his hands and rotated it in my fingers. “Because you were nervous?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, knowing that I was lying, but completely relieved that he bought it anyway.

“Baby,” he cooed, lying down and pulling me down with him. “Why would you be scared?” I tried to respond that I didn’t know, but he didn’t give me the chance. “I can make your first time so special,” he said quietly, kissing the edge of my mouth. “I promise.”

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I was shaking.

Zack thought I was just cold, so he pulled me in closer.

But he didn’t realize that, with my back pressed against his chest, I was actually kind of hot. No, never mind; I was sweltering. We were under all the blankets and sheets on the bed, our legs tangled together in a sweaty mess. My stomach was a ball of nerves, of emotions that I couldn’t put names to. My ears were ringing, but suddenly a soft noise snapped me out of it. Zack, humming quietly, kissed my temple gently. I could feel the smile on his face.

“What’re you humming?” I questioned faintly.

“Jack Johnson,” he replied. “It’s called ‘No Other Way.’” I didn’t bother to say anything else, before Zack started singing it out loud, his voice just as soft and soothing as ever. “When your mind is a mess, so is mine, I can’t sleep. Cause it hurts when I think, my thoughts aren’t at peace with the plans that we make, chances we take; they’re not yours and not mine, there’s waves that can break. All the words that we said, and the words that we mean; words can fall short, can’t see the unseen, cause the world is awake, for somebody’s sake, now please close your eyes, woman, please get some sleep.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, a single tear falling down my cheek, and sat up swiftly.

“I have to go,” I explained, reaching over the bed for my bra and underwear. “My parents expected me home half an hour ago.” Zack stared at me in disbelief, watching as I pulled on my shirt and pants.

He sat up in bed, the covers falling down to his waist. “Alright, at least let me come home with you, then.” I knitted my brow together, wondering what would compel him to do that. Without having to ask, he sensed my confusion and continued, “Ava, we just – we just made love!” I tried not to cringe. His voice softened, “Don’t you wanna spend the night together?”

“Not tonight, Zack,” I murmured, looking down at the dark red carpeting beneath my feet. I heard Zack shuffle out of bed, and when I looked back up he was standing in front of me – wearing his boxers, thankfully.

His embrace was warm and kind, but it just made me feel worse. “Okay,” he said softly, and I could sense a hint of sadness in his voice. He kissed my forehead, and I blinked back the forming tears. Just as I was about to pull away, he added, “I love you.”

I bit my lip, and without looking back, I walked out of the bedroom.

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By the time I had reached my house, I was full out sobbing. Not even the sole letter that I found in the mailbox, labeled to me from the New England Culinary Institute, could catch my attention.

I threw it in the corner of my room when I made my way upstairs, and refused to look at it until the very next week.