Chapter 14: Mystery Girl

I've been dressing up and doing my makeup since my fairy godmother Chris, who was also Alex's gay friend, taught me how to do it. It simply made me feel gorgeous, confident, and good. It's just an added plus that I looked pretty for Lance whenever we went out together. Lance and I have always been a lot closer. He was not just the most famous athlete in school, but he was also a profound individual and a free thinker. We liked to talk about existentialism, philosophy, politics, spirituality, and witchcraft, and we generally spoke about science, mostly about outer space, aliens, and conspiracy theories.

Being with him was a lot of fun since he was intelligent, interesting, charming, and charismatic. He's extremely well-read and well-balanced. He was also a talented artist who liked art. He created these incredible landscape, seascape, realism, surrealism, and Gothic paintings. Lance was practically ideal, and I couldn't have asked for anything more in a guy.

We were so in love that we couldn't keep our hands off each other. We kissed and touched each other frequently in public, to the point that it appeared indecent at times.

Miss Farago, our orthodox Religion teacher, a tall thirty-three-year-old woman with a long chin, caught us French-kissing in a dark classroom one day. She chastised us. "What are you doing, Lance and Daphne!" she said. “It's as if you converted this space into a motel! And here you are, kissing in the classroom! You're already doing it as children! You're not leading a good example!”

She then directed us to the guidance office. Mr. Collier, the guidance officer, was a short, dark-skinned man who chastised us for doing so and made us feel ashamed for showing our love for each other.

He instructed us to write ten times on a piece of pad paper, "We won't French kiss inside the school anymore."

"Please don't do that again," the guidance counselor urged when we finished writing our papers. He continued, “When pupils and teachers see you, it's embarrassing. One additional thing: maybe when you make out, you might be tempted to take off your uniforms and have sex right away, especially if you're in the dark section of the campus. Please never do that! We don't want you to ruin your future. Especially you, Daphne. You're still quite young. Are you terrified about becoming pregnant?”

I answered, “yes.”

He sighed. “If you want to kiss, you can kiss gently, without tongue, on the lips. Don’t ever do a torrid or French kiss in school. That is not allowed in here.”

"I apologize, Sir Collier. "We swear we'll never do it again," Lance remarked.

I simply said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Collier."

"Now, off you go," Mr. Collier said with a nod.

We walked away from the guidance office.

It was the first time in all of my years as a student that I was summoned to a guidance office. I didn't know why, but I didn't feel bad about what Lance and I had done. I was sorry that we were caught, but I was not sorry for what we had done. It was thrilling to be with Lance!

One night, Lance and I had a candlelight dinner, and it was my first dinner date with my first boyfriend. It was the most romantic encounter I've ever had. A dark pink dress, bright pink sandals, floral earrings, a pink pearl necklace, gold cuff, and a bright pink watch completed my ensemble. My hair was curled in huge waves and pleated on the left side. I wore an expensive rose perfume that my wealthy aunt had given me to give me a lovely aroma. I saved this perfume for my romantic evening with Lance.

Lance was dressed in a crisp white collared long-sleeved polo, black slacks, and black shoes. He appeared to be both formal and seductive. He wore a lovely unisex fragrance. And I adored his scent! I've never been a fan of scents that smelled so masculine and powerful. Perfumes like that gave me a headache. Lance smelt like though he had just gotten out of the shower; he was so clean, fresh, and delicious! I felt compelled to devour him like candy!

"Hello, babe," he said.

I returned his greeting with, "Hello, babe." We exchanged kisses on the lips.

He apologized, "I'm sorry, I'm late," and explained, "I looked for a parking space."

"It's okay, babe," I said with a smile.

“You are gorgeous,” he complimented me.

“Thanks, babe,” I said, “you are handsome.”

He placed an order for pesto pasta with a glass of water. I placed an order for two chicken lollipops and an iced tea.

We heartily consumed our dinner.

Lance said, "I'm so glad you didn't order a salad."

“Why?" I asked.

He answered, "I want a girl who enjoys eating. I love it when a girl feels at ease around me."

“I feel comfortable around you,” I admitted to him.

"Let me tell you a story," Lance began, "I dated this girl, she's not an ex. She was attractive, but she was very self-conscious. She ate a salad to keep her slim figure, and she covered her mouth a lot when she smiled. She was too prim. It was like I was dating a mannequin. I don't like that."

To be honest, I couldn't say I blamed the girl for being conscious around my darling Lance. Why? Because he was so hot! I completely understood why she chose a salad over steak or tomato sauced spaghetti. A dinner like this may destroy your outfit.

My friend Hannah advised me to follow proper eating etiquette the day before the date. She advised me to cut my meat or poultry with a knife and fork. But I completely forgot about it! I ate my chicken lollipops with my hands. Lance was not put off by my lack of etiquette.

I was just too afraid of dropping my chicken lollipops. This was a pricey meal. In a fine restaurant like this, it would be a shame to waste food.

We discussed school, followed by movies and music we had seen and heard. All forms of music appealed to me, but my favorite was rock, all kinds of rock! Lance, on the other hand, was a huge fan of hip-hop. I promised myself that as soon as I came home, I would listen to a lot of hip-hop music.

Finally Found Someone by Barbra Streisand and Bryan Adams was performed by a band for us. It was so romantic! The song was well-sung by both male and female vocalists. The violin and oboe also players gave excellent performances.

We praised the band for their outstanding performance. Their talent astounded me. The song was also romantic. I felt like I'd found someone special. It was Lance.

"We should go for a jog first thing tomorrow," Lance said.

“Sure!" I exclaimed, excited.

Lance paid the bill and left a hefty tip.

We later departed the restaurant after thanking the personnel. Lance drove me home in his flashy, costly car.

We kissed on the lips as we approached the front stairs of my house and said our goodbyes. He kissed my forehead, as well. It was a sign that he genuinely cared about me.

Mr. Collier, the guidance officer, advised Lance and me not to make out inside the school. So we made out outside the school, especially in the parking lot, in front of his opulent Tesla. A Tesla, indeed! Lance was opulent, delicious, and seductive. We were both enthusiastic and mischievous. We didn't give a damn whether anyone noticed us in the parking lot. I'm glad to be with Lance, and we've shown our love for each other in a variety of ways. But, aside from kissing and touching, nothing else had happened yet. I declined Lance's invitation to take our relationship to the "next level." He respected my decision.

I truly was not ready yet.

Obviously, I was not a prude. To tell you the truth, I was a virgin. Yes, you read that correctly. I had never had sex before. My "holes" were not filled. It sounded weird in my ears now that I spoke it. That was rather graphic. I had to make a detailed confession about this. Because, you know, some girls claimed to be virgins. Despite the fact that they had given heads to eager men, their sexual partners had performed oral sex on them or had anal sex with them. They had tried every sort of sex except vaginal sex in order to stay "clean," because evidently only vaginal sex "counted" when it came to other guys. That's why most girls could easily tell the white lie that they were actually, virgins.

Not me, though. In every sense of the word, I was a virgin.

We were both very young. We were actually too young to engage in any sexual activity.

In most nations, having intercourse at the age of sixteen is considered acceptable. However, I heard from some of my peers that they had sex when they were considerably younger. Even ten-year-olds in this country are already having sex. Many preteens and teenagers become pregnant or contract an STD or STI. That is something I would prefer to avoid.

Lance and I kissed and touched each other frequently, but we never had sex. He was thirteen and I was twelve. We were obviously too young.

After I get married, that’s when I'd like to have sex. I wasn't a fortune teller, of course. I'd never be able to predict what would happen next.

Lance was still unaware of this. But I was confident that he would respect my choice.

Lance and I seemed to be destined to be together for a long time. I even fantasized about marrying him. I imagined a small, personal wedding with our closest friends and family. Our immediate families, relatives, and a select group of close friends. Alex would be my choice for best man. Then Pachelbel’s Canon in D would be played by great musicians as I entered the church. We'd exchange vows and kiss in front of everyone in the church. Oh, what a beautiful wedding that would be!

I wished that my dream would come true.

I saw that, as wonderful as my love life was, Alex's was as miserable. I had no information about him. We haven't spoken in a long time because Lance was my constant companion. I recently discovered that I had forgotten about my friends since I was so enamored with my boyfriend. I hadn't seen my best friends Kathryn and Julio in a long time. Given that Lance was my first boyfriend, it's possible that it was like this when the relationship was fresh.

Mr. Randall discussed poetry and its various types in English class. He assigned us to write a haiku poem on nature for our seatwork.

This was my poetry.

Aurora borealis

God painted the sky

All the colors dance with glee

Her beauty shines bright

In front of the class, Mr. Randall read all of our poetry. Alex's melancholy poem, though, drew his attention. The teacher explained that he requested a haiku about nature rather than depression or heartbreak. “Blackbirds” was the title of his haiku. Although I agree that the poetry was depressing, I disagree that it was solely about such negative sentiments. Because Alex wrote about blackbirds, it was still about nature. Mr. Randall should have provided additional details. He didn't mention that you should just create cheerful haiku poetry. He just mentioned that we were writing about nature. Blackbirds, like all other birds, were a natural part of nature.

Mr. Randall assigned us the task of writing a reaction to a poem by one of the following poets: Sylvia Plath, Edgar Allan Poe, or Pablo Neruda. He also teased Alex, saying that because he was devastated, he would be able to empathize to Sylvia Plath. I wished Mr. Randall would give Alex a break!

I wasn't sad, but I admired Sylvia Plath's work. In the library, I've read her poems a million times. Because her poem Mad Girl's Love Song was so lovely and heartbreaking, I decided to write about it for my homework.

I asked Alex if he was heartbroken after English class. He stated that he did not want to discuss it. I just left him alone. But who was that mystery girl who had broken the heart of my male best friend?

Lance and Alex hung out after school. Lance was apparently serious about keeping his promise to befriend Alex. Lance was genuinely jealous. Alex made him jealous. I told him he shouldn't be jealous of Alex because we were only friends. Now, he was trying to get close with Alex. I'm relieved since I believe they would get along fine.