She didn’t actually say anything about getting laid, but she put three hearts and an eggplant emoji at the end of the message. So I think sex was implied.
The plan included the four of us – her, me, my friend and her friend. Equal distribution of poverty.
I picked up my friend and headed to where the girls were waiting for us, hopefully wet. On our way there, I handed my friend a condom. It was like throwing ammunition to help a comrade in the bunker. He put it in his pocket and continued smoking his joint.
After getting lost twice, we finally arrived at her place. (By the way, it was Amanda’s place, the girl I wanted to sleep with – the one with the big boobs… but more on that later.)
We were late, but also young – if we had fun faster, we could make up for the lost time.
We decided to sit outside, although it felt like Gulag. But the booze would help; it would keep us somewhat warm.
The girls went in to get the drinks and Jamal, my comrade, called dibs on Amanda. I said no, because I had a thing (more precisely, a boner) for Amanda. I just wanted to be with her, alone, probably kiss her with my eyes closed and try to choke her a little to see if she’s into that… But then I thought to myself : “Sometimes you think you’re in love with a girl because you haven’t seen her best-friend naked.” I still said no.
Amanda and her friend came out with the alcohol. Amanda had taken her jacket off and… my god, that cleavage! Instant erection.
Some conversations were going on between the three, but I was distracted by how some of Amanda’s hair had dived into the most beautiful abyss I had even seen in real life. She suddenly looked at me and winked. MY GOD! Nietzsche was right when he said : “And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.”
I blushed like an idiot and gulped down the rest of what was in my glass, which turned out to be half full and burned my throat like a mother fucker. Hoo-fucking-rah.
Truth or Dare was announced and at some point I had to drink from Jamal’s glass in which he had spit. Disgusting? Don’t you think I know? Have you ever been seventeen? I did it anyway. I did it while thinking of her, of the expectations I had, of what the night had in store for me, of life itself.
Amanda put out her cigarette, winked again, tilted her head towards the door, and went inside. Minutes later, I followed her. I excused myself to go see where Amanda was and what took her so long. Wink.
Living room. Couch. Not-bad vintage décor. Amanda on top of me.
Our tongues were moving faster than Nazis running when they saw the Red Flag coming. I put my hand down her panties; it was wet enough to drown a damn puppy down there. She was unbuttoning my shirt and I was undoing her bra. And they fell out.
And boy, what a sight it was! Reminded me of the fall of the Berlin Wall. and I shouted : “Kommunizm Pobedit!” I threw myself into them. Extending my hand deeper into her panties in the name of research and exploration, I felt that she wanted it. That and the fact that she told me: “Give it to me.”
Just when I pulled my pants down, the door opened and in walked Jamal and Suzan (her best-friend).
We shouted “What the fuck” in harmony and got dressed as fast as capitalism would fall if anybody actually gave a fuck.
Embarrassing silence. Then I asked why, and Suzan told me that it was getting cold outside and they had to come in.
“Well, call it freedom and bomb Iraq! Couldn’t you pick another damn room in the house?”
Suzan didn’t answer; she just smiled. (Her real name, of course, isn’t Suzan. It’s Pamela. Pamela’s a bitch.)
Jamal was smoking another joint and talking to the lamp on the ceiling.
See, it turns out that THE BITCH liked me and wanted to be the one in there with me. But she wasn’t because I liked Amanda. That’s why she was jealous and wanted to shatter my hopes and dreams. That’s how the system works. Jealousy. Your friend gets a car and scores chicks; you want that too. Now you work your ass off just to have the same car. But you realize too late that you won’t score shit even now, because you have an ass for a face.
Anyway , I think that’s enough. Hey! You asked if I had anything to confess, father. Does this count as a confession ? Cause that’s all I got for you. Is this a confession room or a damn sauna, I’m melting in here! I’m out. Pray for me, padre.