Popping The Cherry

By the time lunch came around, my good mood was back with a vengeance. Damian was history and Malice was welcome to the low-life. The Little Mix earworm I’d had in my head all morning had been replaced by the Montagues and Capulets theme, which of course made me think of StreetDance the movie, and brought with it images of the hunky actor-slash-dancer Richard Winsor who played lead, and gave me an idea.

I dashed to the canteen to find Flick—the only other person who actually knew who Richard Winsor was—to invite her back to my house straight after college. It must be months since we’d last seen the movie and a refresher was long overdue. I could ogle the men in their tights, and she could ogle the school building, just like old times. Win-win all around, if you asked me. Except I reached the canteen first, which struck me as a bit odd when my classroom was further away, and Flick was nowhere to be seen.

Thankfully, there was no sign of Malice, either. Hopefully too embarrassed to face everyone, unless she was just stuck in detention or sucking some schmuck’s face off somewhere. I wouldn’t put it past her to have blown college off after this morning’s botched showdown, either. Where she’d go was open to debate, and the rumours about her home life were rife, ranging from her living in a caravan in true ‘trailer trash’ style, to living with her mother and her mum’s sugar daddy in some fancy mansion. To be honest, I didn’t really care where Alice lived so long as she stayed out of my way and kept her nose out of my and my friends’ business.

At least our usual table was still free. I dumped my bag on a chair and joined the line of people queuing to get some food. The others still hadn’t shown up when I carried my tray back to the table. After another glance around the canteen, I was certain they weren’t just sitting somewhere else instead, and the first flutter of concern hit me, so I reached into my bag, grabbed my phone and checked for messages, but there was nothing. No new texts and no voicemail.

Where the hell were they?

For all four of them to be missing was just plain weird, ominous even, assuming they were all together somewhere. My stomach flipped, leaving me with a bad feeling and threatening to put me off my salad. The thought of their colluding without me was never a good thing. I dashed off a quick text to Gemma to check she was OK, my fingers flying across the touch-screen keypad, then propped my phone up against my bottle of water where I couldn’t miss it when—if—it went off.

Oh, well, there was nothing for it but to start without them. I snatched up my fork up and stabbed a piece of chicken with enough force to send the cherry tomatoes flying. Damn it! As I chewed, I popped them back onto my plate and stared at my phone, willing it to buzz. Ever hopeful—or delusional—I kept my eye on the main entrance but they still hadn’t turned up by the time I’d finished my salad.

Stuff them, then.

I had far better things to do than sit on my own getting pity looks, and I was done waiting. The sun was out for a start and I could be out in the fresh air rather than being stuck inside. As I pushed back, my chair made a dreadful scraping sound, like nails down a blackboard, attracting even more unwanted attention. The burning sensation in my face told me I’d gone as red as the tomatoes, so I bent my head and stowed my phone back into my bag to avoid making eye contact, then grabbed my apple.

Definitely time to get out of there.

I was halfway to standing when Gemma appeared through one of the side doors, closely followed by Flick, Chloe and Piper.

Gee, thanks for the invite, girls.

They made Charlie’s Angels look tame as they strode towards me en masse. My pulse spiked and I eyed the doorway, ready to flee, but there was no way I could get there in time.

‘I was just leaving,’ I said, trying to sound as if I didn’t give a damn, but my voice cracked and betrayed me. I collapsed back into my seat and glared at them instead. It was either get angry or burst into tears. ‘Where have you been?’ I demanded, my tone getting more high-pitched with each syllable.

‘Sorry,’ Gemma said, not sounding the slightest bit sorry. ‘I thought I’d texted you to say we were going to be a bit late, but I’ve just spotted the failed-delivery message. I must be out of credit after calling Ben during first break.’

‘So where were you? I asked, as Gemma plonked herself in the seat opposite me. Chloe and Piper took up the seats either side of me, and Flick chose the chair next to Gemma. ‘And what were you doing that took so long?’

Gemma quirked her perfectly plucked eyebrows at me. ‘This, my dear Lena, is an intervention.’

Chapter Two

INTERVENTION

‘A what?’

Heads turned to look at us, my words coming out louder than intended.

Gah!

Gemma waited until everybody had gone back to minding their own business. ‘An intervention,’ she said, completely matter-of-fact, using the same tone she’d use to tell me I had lettuce stuck in my teeth. ‘We, as in all four of us—’ she paused for dramatic effect and waved her hand to include Flick, Chloe and Piper ‘—are all agreed that you need our help.’

‘Is that so?’ I asked.

Flick suddenly seemed determined to avoid eye contact but I refused to let her off the hook. She finally gave in and offered me a small shrug, along with a resigned smile.

Not good.

The heavy feeling in my gut got even worse. ‘Help with what, exactly?’

Gemma met my glare head-on. ‘You need to lose your virginity.’

‘Pardon?’ I hissed, unable to believe my ears.

‘Don’t you see, Lena?’ she said, not backing down so much as an inch. ‘You have so many hang-ups about sex, you’re like a faulty telephone.’

‘You’re joking, right?’ I forced out a laugh. Gemma jutted out her jaw even further, not even a flicker of a smile. My nails pierced the apple, the juice running down my fingers to form a satisfying puddle on the table. ‘Don’t tell me this is your big plan.’

‘It’s a damn sight better than being dumped.’

‘Whoa, hang on,’ I said, narrowing my eyes to accuse each of them. ‘Are you all saying I should have slept with Damian?’

‘No way.’

‘Eww, no.’

‘Not at all.’

‘Nuh-uh.’

They all answered at the same time, their voices jumbled together so I couldn’t be sure who said what. At least we were all agreed on something.

‘You can do a million times better than him,’ Flick said.

‘Which is exactly what I said,’ Gemma said. ‘And that’s where we come in.’

‘Huh?’

‘We had a little brainstorming session and came up with the most wicked idea.’ Gemma reached into her tote and produced a piece of A4 paper with a flourish. I could already see Piper’s cursive handwriting running down one side.

‘Wicked as in evil and demonic, or wicked as in excellent?’

‘It’s good to see you’ve still got your sense of humour.’

‘Who’s joking?’

Gemma ignored my outburst and started to slide the page towards me, but then she noticed the state of the table. ‘Bloody hell, Lena, what did the apple ever do to you?’ She prised the mangled apple out of my grip and dumped it on my tray. ‘You’ve well and truly murdered it,’ she said, grabbing a load of napkins. She tossed one to me, then used the rest to mop up the juice and bits of pulp. ‘Right, let’s try that again,’ she said, finally getting back to the sheet of paper and offering it to me. ‘Here is your mission, should you choose to accept it.’

In no mood for one of her silly games, I snatched it off her and scanned the page. It turned out to be a list of names, all of them boys, and some of whom I recognised. And then I noticed the title: ‘Operation: Popping the Cherry’. I leaped to my feet and fired a glare at each of them in turn, trying not to shout. ‘Are you shitting me?’

Flick at least flinched and mouthed, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘So what am I supposed to do?’ I asked, caught in two minds whether to tear the list into a thousand pieces or scrunch it into a ball. ‘Work my way down the list and sleep with them all?’

‘Are you going to at least hear us out before you go off on one?’ Gemma sounded infuriatingly calm compared with my wailing-banshee routine.

‘I don’t even know who half of these guys are.’ I settled for tossing the page back onto the table in disgust. ‘Why not just shove me at the first guy to walk in here and pay him to have sex with me?’

‘It’s not like that, Lena, and you know it.’ Gemma snapped, finally biting back, but, instead of getting drawn into a slanging match, she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Composure restored. ‘I know you’re spoiling for a fight, and I know this is hard, but you know we’d never do something like that to you.’

‘Hmph,’ I grunted.

‘Can’t you at least give us two minutes to explain?’

As I stood mulling it over, trying to decide whether to stay or flounce off as I’d intended, I noticed the glances and raised eyebrows being directed my way. Being the only one of our group standing up, combined with my raised voice and Gemma’s hissing, I was drawing way too much attention. All of the fire left me and my legs gave way before I’d made the conscious decision to sit back down.

‘Thank you.’ Gemma seized the opportunity and slid the list back across the table. This time, she kept her hand on it as if expecting me to try to destroy it. She wasn’t wrong. ‘These are just a few of the names we came up with. Guys we thought you might like, but wouldn’t necessarily think of yourself. Now it’s your turn to add your own potential candidates to complete the shortlist.’

‘Candidates? You make it sound like some kind of election.’

‘In a way, it is,’ Chloe said, speaking up for the first time. ‘Take a look at the list and get to know some of the guys on there that you don’t know already. Go on a few dates maybe. And then you cast your vote.’

‘As in …?’

‘Uh-huh.’ Chloe lowered her voice, ‘You have s-e-x with them.’ She even spelled out the word ‘sex’ as if it would deter eavesdroppers and lessen the impact.

‘And this is the best you could come up with? Your brilliant plan?’ I said to no one in particular. ‘What happened to saving yourself? Waiting for the right person?’

‘Saving yourself? This isn’t the 1950s. All you’re doing is missing out on something fun. No guy expects you to be a virgin on your wedding day these days, so you might as well get it over with.’

‘Get it over with? Jeez, Gemma, you make it sound like going for an injection?’

‘Let’s just hope it’s more than a little prick when the time comes, then, eh?’ she said, waggling her eyebrows up and down. Her quick-witted innuendo earned a chorus of giggles. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of making me smile but—damn it—the corners of my lips were curving up whether I wanted them to or not.

‘Touché,’ I said, giving up the fight. ‘That was a good one, even for you.’

‘I am rather proud of it.’

‘But isn’t the first time supposed to be special?’ I asked.

‘I wish,’ Chloe muttered.

‘My first time was over in thirty seconds flat,’ Flick said. ‘He barely got it in there in time. Talk about an anticlimax.’

‘I hate to break it to you, but it’s really not all it’s cracked up to be,’ Gemma said, yet I knew for a fact Ben had been her first. Even Piper sighed. ‘It gets better, though,’ Gemma said brightly. ‘It’s a bit like kissing, I guess.’

‘Kissing? Yeah, right.’

‘No, really,’ she said, sitting more upright to plead her case. ‘Nobody is a great kisser at the first attempt. You might accidentally bump teeth, or the guy might try to suffocate you by covering your nose as well as your mouth. And sometimes he might shove his tongue too far down your throat until you gag and—’

‘Ugh, yeah.’ The memory of my first ‘proper’ French kiss still had the power to make me shudder. ‘Been there, done that.’

‘It just takes practice, you know, until you get the hang of it.’ It might not be want I wanted to hear but Gemma was making sense even if it went against every romantic notion I’d ever harboured.

‘I think I see what you mean,’ I conceded. ‘So you’ve all had … I’m the only …’ I squirmed, too embarrassed to say the words. I’d already gathered Gemma, Flick and Chloe had done … it … but then Piper nodded, too. I spun in my chair to face her, unable to mask my surprise. ‘Even you?’

‘Yes, Lena, even me,’ she said, lifting her chin and meeting my stare, her eyes brimming with defiance.

‘Jeez.’ I was in the minority again.

‘Oh, come on. Is it really such a surprise?’ she asked.

‘Yes!‘ I wanted to yell. If I’d had to put money on anyone else still being a virgin, it would have been Piper, the oh-so-shy girl who always had her nose stuck in a book. ‘No, I guess not,’ I lied, seeing Piper in a whole new light. ‘I guess that makes me the odd one out, then,’ I said, forcing out a feeble laugh.

Nobody spoke. It was as if they could sense the battle raging inside my head. Up until that moment, I’d never considered myself to be naïve, nor did I think I was a prude, but now I had to wonder. Operation: Popping the Cherry went against everything I’d been brought up to believe, but my closest friends made it sound as if I’d been fed a load of old-fashioned nonsense.

We couldn’t all be right, so which of us was wrong?

A girl laughed at the next table but one from us, disturbing my thoughts. I couldn’t help peeking at her out of the corner of my eye, watching her from beneath my lowered eyelashes. She was sitting with a guy from Upper Sixth, holding hands, and their heads bent together. I didn’t know either of them, except in passing, but any fool could see how happy they were. The guy was hanging onto her every word, and, when he leaned in to plant a tender kiss on her cheek, a pang of jealousy zipped through my veins.

A sense of longing hit me so hard, my heart physically ached inside my chest. I dragged my gaze away before they made me cry, and my focus immediately zoomed in on the list of names until the letters danced before my eyes. If I wanted what that couple had, what Gemma and Ben had, what every other goddamn person on the planet except me seemed to have, then maybe Operation: Popping the Cherry was the key.

‘So, I just have to go on a few dates and see if any of these guys get my mojo going enough to want to … you know …?’

‘Exactly.’ Gemma grinned at me, looking mightily pleased with herself. ‘You see, ladies, I told you she’d get it,’ she said, exchanging high fives with the others. ‘So what d’you say, Lena? Are you up for it?’

Am I?

Deep down, I knew they had only my best interests at heart but they were staring at me so hard, my skin prickled. The vibe coming off them was so strong, I was left in no doubt whatsoever that they wanted me to do this. No, they really wanted me to do this. A bead of sweat broke out on my forehead and trickled down the side of my face. Nobody could make the decision for me, but even my gut instincts had abandoned me, leaving me to figure it out on my own. I could say no, but then what? I risked upsetting my friends and becoming even more of an outcast. They’d called it an intervention, but the longer I took to think about it, the more it weighed on me like an ultimatum: my friends or my virginity?

‘OK, I’m in,’ I blurted, before I could talk myself out of it again.

‘Yay!’ Gemma did her clapping thing. ‘Now, on to the deadline.’

‘What? Nobody said anything about a deadline.’

‘Go on, you tell her, Piper, seeing as it was your ingenious idea.’

‘Well,’ she said, her eyes glinting with pride. ‘What better date than your birthday, what with it being Valentine’s Day?’

‘Isn’t it just perfect?’ Gemma was having way too much fun with this.

‘Yeah, great,’ I said flatly.

‘Plus, it gives you loads of time to meet someone you like,’ she added. That much was true at least. ‘And there’s no time like the present, eh?’ she said, waving at somebody who must have just come into the canteen.

‘Huh?’ I turned in my seat and followed her gaze all the way to the guy from her Drama class—Sean something-or-other—who returned her wave and changed course.

With a sinking feeling, I checked the list of candidates. Sure enough, Sean Cole was in at number three. And he was now headed our way. There wasn’t time to fold the shortlist neatly, so I screwed it up in my fist and rammed the damning evidence into my bag. From my hunched position, I watched as a pair of brown suede Vans came to a stop directly behind me.

‘Hey, Gemma,’ said a deep voice with a soft Scottish lilt. ‘Did you want me?’

Caught red-handed, I froze, still collapsed in my chair like a moron. You could always rely on me to make a good first impression—not!

‘Hey, Sean.’ Gemma’s voice sounded muffled from my position beneath the table. ‘I thought it was about time I introduced you to my best friend.’

Say what?

I shot up so fast that I caught the back of my head on the edge of table, hitting it hard enough to make a loud bang. If Sean had any sense he’d back away slowly from the crazy girl before I did anything else stupid. Instead, he hovered, waiting to be formally introduced. Maybe he felt sorry for me, or thought he was being punked. Once my eyes stopped watering, I glared at Gemma, giving her my best evil eye. To her credit, she didn’t bat an eyelid; the drama lessons were clearly working for her.

She didn’t even react when I ‘accidentally’ kicked her under the table as I twisted in my seat to meet cherry-popping candidate number one. Sean was standing so close to my chair, I had to tip my head right back to see him. The weird perspective made him look like a giant. He could probably see straight up my nose, too. Jeez, would my misery never end?

‘Hi, you must be Valentina,’ he said, turning his brown-eyed gaze on me and offering me his hand.

‘Yep, that’s me,’ I said, placing my hand in his. ‘But everybody calls me Lena.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Lena,’ he said, bending from the waist in a bow. Cute and charming, but I felt nothing, no tingles or flutters, not even when Sean lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss onto the backs of my fingers.

‘You too, Sean.’ I could see why he was taking drama. Sean practically oozed charisma, definite actor calibre. In fact, he probably had a whole entourage of swooning groupies already, and judging from the sigh I’d heard behind me, Flick was more than willing to become a fully fledged member. My friends weren’t the only ones capable of playing matchmaker. ‘So tell me, Sean, have you been introduced to Felicity yet?’

‘No, I don’t believe I have.’ Sean followed the direction of my free hand.

The moment his and Flick’s eyes met, I was all but forgotten. Excellent.

‘Sorry to dash off,’ I said, ignoring Gemma’s scowl as I stood and lifted my bag onto my shoulder. ‘I have to get a book from the library before my next class, but it was lovely to meet you, Sean.’

‘You too, Lena,’ he said.

‘Oh, I need to go to the library, too,’ Gemma said, leaping to her feet. Her smile didn’t fool me for a second. ‘We might as well walk together.’

Oh goody!

‘Sure thing,’ I said, struggling to maintain my happy face. ‘Bye, then, see you all later.’

‘Bye,’ came the chorus of voices.

Gemma pounced the moment we were out of earshot. ‘You haven’t really got to go to the library, have you?’

‘Nope.’

‘So what the hell was all that about back there?’

‘All what?’ I said, feigning ignorance. Gemma wasn’t buying it. ‘Look, it’s no big deal. Sean wasn’t my type, that’s all, whereas Flick was just begging to be introduced. Could you not feel the vibe coming off them?’

Gemma slipped into her own thoughts for a moment and then relaxed. ‘Yeah, OK, I’ll give you that one. They did look pretty hot for each other. And all that hand-kissing stuff is right up Flick’s street.’

Phew!

‘Precisely. It was only fair to pay it forward.’

‘So where are you off to in such a hurry?’ Gemma asked.

And there was I, thinking I was off the hook.

‘I’ve got a free period, so I’m off to the baker’s. All of a sudden I could murder a pain-au-chocolat. I couldn’t possibly think why, though, could you?’

‘Uh-oh.’ Gemma came to a standstill and caught hold of my arm to stop me from walking off without her. ‘Lena, are we OK?’ she asked, all the aggression gone from her voice. ‘You’re not mad at me?’

Wow, she seemed proper worried. Scared, maybe.

‘No, we’re cool,’ I said, drawing her into a hug. ‘It’s been a crazy couple of days, what with yesterday, and now this … this mission. I just need some time to process it all.’

She did the single-eyebrow thing, as if she could tell I was holding back. ‘You sure that’s all it is?’

‘No.’ What I really needed to do was tell her how much I hated Operation: Popping the Cherry, but how could I when it had been her idea? ‘Yeah, I’m sure,’ I said instead.

Gemma still didn’t look convinced. Her lips were thinner than usual, and she wouldn’t stop trying to use her X-ray vision on me. Time to change the subject before I cracked.

‘So can I get you anything while I’m out? I know it’s not a patch on Donovan’s but it still hits the spot.’

She huffed out a sigh. ‘No, thanks, I’ve blown all my calorie allowance already. I don’t know where you put it all.’ Gemma checked her watch, then pulled me into another hug. ‘Right, I’d better get back inside before the bell goes. Talk to you later, yeah?’

‘Will do. Go on, you’d better run,’ I said, shooing her towards the main building. The bell rang right on cue. ‘Bye,’ I called out to her hastily retreating back. She tossed her hand up as a wave and carried on power-walking.

Idiot that I was, I didn’t think to dump my text books before I left college. I envied Gemma’s speed and agility when the walk to the baker’s took longer than usual, thanks to the weight of my bag. My shoulder throbbed and sharp, stabbing twinges kept shooting up my spine in addition to the rapidly worsening tension headache. At least I’d had enough sense to bring my painkillers with me.

I fell onto the shiny silver bistro chair as if it was my new best friend—my long-lost brother even—and the old woman behind the counter shot me a sympathetic smile. She came to the table to take my order, which the staff weren’t supposed to do, so I must have looked as much of a wreck from the outside as I felt on the inside. I winced as I lifted my heavy bag onto my lap. Damned if I could find the stupid pills, though. My bag had turned into Mary Poppins’s carpet bag somewhere on the walk and I spent forever rummaging through the crumbs and hair bobbles. Man, I needed to clean out my bag more often!

OK, so it would have helped if I’d remembered putting them in the zip pocket on the front at the outset, but I figured it out in the end. Triumphant, I tossed the white plastic packet onto the table and nearly knocked the tray out of the woman’s hands.

‘Omigod! I’m so sorry,’ I said.

What a klutz!

If I kept this up, I’d do someone an injury. Maybe I should be using my free period to draw up a poster? A warning to everyone to stay away from me for their own safety. For an old lady, she had better reactions than I had. She managed to save my huge mug of mocha, extra sugar, and my pain-au-chocolat from hitting the deck.

‘No harm done,’ she said kindly.

Sure enough, the only evidence of my stupidity was the big slop of cream sliding down the side of mug. And it was getting away. I lunged forward to ‘save’ it—which makes it sound as if I actually had a choice in the matter—and blocked its path with my finger. The cream with its dusting of cocoa settled along the length of my finger. I had it now. Dipping my head to meet my finger halfway, I shoved the gooey spoils into my mouth and moaned as my taste buds took over.