Today has been a FANTASTIC DAY- wooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOO.
I’m not going to even dwell on the shaky start (my stupid crapmobile car wouldn’t start this morning- must fix) because
a. my big bro is back from Oz land after like 5 years out there, FOR GOOD
b. in the words of Destiny’s Child, the party is Jumpin’ Jumpin’
I refuse to let Rory out of my sight for even a minute tonight, which is probably pissing him off a treat but I’m scared he might run out the door and disappear again. But he keeps squeezing my arm and telling me to let go of him because he’s not going anywhere this time and his face is honest and reassuring; like I once remember seeing, so I let him go and chat to Gracie.
(But I will remain a metre away at all times)
Meanwhile I have a scan round the room to see if I spot any girlfriends joke (I can count my “girlfriends” on one hand) and I spy Yasmin schmoozing with other leggy fashion girls, Eva showing the pole some love and Rebecca looking like a frigid bitch (who can make slutty Santa into Pilgrim?) and that’s when I spy him..
Jamie . Ives.
I tense up. Spotting his casual, messy-but-styled-for-hours hair above the crowd of reindeers makes me freeze mid convo with Yaz. He knocks back a pint of beer and spills a little over his well-defined jaw and for a second I think he catches my eye as he wipes his face, but he turns away just as quickly as the moment came and turns his attention back to his laddylad mates - still the same boneheads from high school.
Now Jamie Ives is physically an Adonis; I mean, too pretty to be my type now- anyone that takes longer than me to style their hair (and for the record it takes me less than a minute) is really too metrosexual for me, however, Teenage Me did not have the same consensus.
He was a dreamy older year who was friends with everyone, loved by teachers and had dated every pretty girl (and rumour has it a couple of teachers) in the school.. except me; not that I hadn't tried don't get me wrong, I was just a late bloomer. I had braces and moderately severe acne and until I hit 17 I dressed kinda like the guy that runs the YMCA round the corner-
I still had friends alright?
I had kissed boys though. I think I had a lucky break in that I preferred hanging around with the boys in my school and chose not to have a lot of girl friends (bar Gracie and Eva (begrudgingly at first) and in that sense a couple of the Y chromos took pity on me and indulged me with a cheeky stoned kiss behind the sports block. But that's as far as it went, until Jamie Ives came along with his tight buttcheeks.
The day Jamie first spoke to me was pretty shit.
It was the anniversary of my dad’s suicide and I had spent the whole day blazing up with Archibald Levine with a bong made from some tubes from the Chem lab. Archibald was telling me about how he was using the money made from harvesting his marijuana plantation (in his back garden) to create a school for intellectually gifted youngsters in an unspecified underdeveloped country and I was just about able to nod my head slowly in enthusiasm to this when Eva ran in and busted me. She gave me a lecture about drugs at school and told Archibald it was unacceptable to have dreadlocks as a Caucasian male and then dragged me (no actually dragged me) to the girls bathrooms where she told me that she had overheard Jamie telling his bonehead mate that I was “looking quite fit actually”.
Of course this perked me up massively and I forgot about being dark and down for a few hours whilst I planned my underwear for the aforementioned bonehead mate’s house party that same night.
To cut this waffling story short, I got smashed on spiced rum (straight) and it didn’t react so well with the earlier spliffs. I vomited on an antique rug and used bonehead’s mum’s designer dress to wipe myself down and later started a table dance striptease to INXS - Need You Tonight (which was cut promptly short by my brother); despite all this I looked pretty smokin’; I wore a sexy tartan mini skirt and a black lacy negligee and this was most certainly what caught Jamie’s wandering eye.
We danced in the living room all night, I broke out some moves I’d practiced in the mirror from Showgirl (forgive me father) and rubbed up against him until he could do no more but to beg me to go on a “drive in the woods” with him.
I smiled coyly and agreed to take ride with a boy I hadn’t spoken to before that night who had barely passed his test by 3 days and who was about 15 times over the legal limit – but young love is blind and reasonless I guess.
Gracie tucked a condom in my boot for me and Eva begged me not to “rush anything” but that was easy for them to say as they had both long lost their V to their respective boyfriends and after spending most of teenhood itching to even see a real life penis (well other than Archibald Levine’s but I’d rather not go into that); well I was already at the passenger door before he was.
We drove for miiiiles and miles, and ended up in a drunken, messy tangle in a field opposite a pub I’d never seen before. He didn’t ask me anything about myself but kept saying, “so why haven’t I noticed you before Anya Lucker (sic)?...” and “isn’t it cool that you’re sorta famous?” with this naughty charming glint in his eye, and I would shrug and giggle and gulp down sick gurgles whilst he kissed my neck and played with the lace on my knickers. They soon came off and he was soon enough naked from the waist down, and then I froze up a bit and the conscious me cried out to be heard from the furthest corner of my brain.
Do you really want to lose it in a field with a guy who doesn’t know your last name?
Well he sweet-talked me, and we did it, and it hurt, and I cried (silently) and thought throughout the whole thing if there is an afterlife then I hope to God that my dad is too busy playing poker with Kurt Cobain to watch me now.
Of course he told everyone at school the next day that I was a “crazy slut” (how generic) and even had “I nailed Micky Lusher’s daughter” written on his sports jacket for the remainder of our time at school.
Oh Jamie, you are unlucky that this has come flooding back to me tonight; you are ruining my happy night and it’s payback baby.
