He’s sweet, she thinks. He’s sweet, he’s warm, and he makes her feel safe.
So when he asks if it’s okay to take off her underwear, she nods.
She rummages through her purse for the condom she stole from her older brother’s room the last time her and her parents went to visit him at college.
If she’s responsible about having safe sex maybe it’ll negate that she’s sixteen, scared to death, and doing it for the first time in the back of an 88 Dodge.
“I promise it won't hurt, Pammy.” He whispers into her ear.
He lied.
*
He’s cute, she thinks, taking his hand and putting it where she needs to feel pressure.
What’s his name, though?
She wraps her leg around his hip, letting him know that they’re going to do this here and now. Anything more would be bordering intimate.
Earlier she noticed him staring at her from the opposite side of the bar. He smiled, looking at her Sam Adams before lifting his own, as if the fact that they drank the same beer equated great sex.
Tall with brown hair.
From twenty feet away in a crowded bar she concluded he would do.
*
He’s everything, she thinks.
She looks into his eyes and then for what must be the 30th time tonight, they start laughing.
“Seriously, Beesley, now that we’re naked, I insist you stop laughing.”
She dissolves into a fit of giggles until he does something with his tongue and index finger that makes her grab the comforter.
Then he’s on top of her and suddenly it feels like her first time.
But this time she’s not scared of the pain. She’s scared there’s nothing in this world that could make her happier than she is now.
Because he’s everything.
