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The V Card

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“I want it gone,” you said. You sat in a small Los Angeles café with your best friend, Suzy. You had taken a break off and you needed to vent to someone. Thankfully, your favorite person was always free to listen to your complaining. The most recent book you were editing was as interesting as waiting in line at the DMV and you decided to go out before you died of monotony overdose. Your round, two-person table was situated in the corner of the restaurant furthest from the door. You hadn’t chosen the location for any particular reason, but you were grateful because of the conversation the two of you were now having. How the conversation got to your virginity, you had no clue. It was most likely your fault, though.

“Geez (y/n), it’s not that big of a deal. Who cares if you still have your v card?” Suzy’s words were meant to be comforting, but they sounded like something out of an afterschool special so there was no way you could take them seriously.

“Everyone.” You were exaggerating. “Every guy I date instantly changes when he finds out I haven’t had sex. I become this stupid conquest, it’s like I’m not even a person.”

“That’s because men are stupid.” She giggled and you rolled your eyes, but offered a small chuckle. She definitely had the authority to say that since all of her coworkers were men and she had told many stories of their idiotic antics, but you had hoped that at least one guy was exempt for the rule.

“Suzy, I’m twenty-five. That’s like, sixty-five in virgin years.” At least, that’s how it felt lately. You dropped your head on the table. However, you were careful to not actually hit it that hard and your coffee cup shook with the slight movement. Sure, you were being dramatic, but it was totally justified. “Maybe I should just move into a convent.”

“You’re being ridiculous, alright? Lots of people wait to have sex.”

“But I’m not waiting!” You lifted your head and watched as she calmly took a sip of coffee. “I swear, I’ll bang the next semi-reasonable dude I see.”

“No, you won't."

"Don't test me, woman. I'll sleep with anyone."

"If that was the case you’d have lost it forever ago. What about that last guy? Max. He was pretty good, right?” 

Your face scrunched up in disgust and she grimaced.

“Uh-uh. Way too much spit. When he went down on me he slobbered more than a Saint Bernard. My vagina lubricates itself, thank you very much.” While you had some familiarity with sex, you had never gotten the... full experience. You were clear to make that distinction, but it didn’t seem to matter to the men you dated. And you had definitely become well-acquainted with oral sex, but Max was your first time on the receiving end. The whole incident left you all but traumatized. Again, you were being a little dramatic, but only a little.

Suzy looked at you with a sad smile.

“There isn’t going to be a perfect guy, you know. You’re looking for a fuckbuddy not a partner,” she said simply. If only finding someone fuckable-but-pleasant was that easy. Despite saying there was no such thing, Suzy had found her ‘perfect guy’ at a young age and hadn’t looked back. You, on the other hand, seemed to find something wrong with every person that you dated. You pushed the stirrer around your empty coffee cup's edge with your finger. “I know! How about I set you up with someone? I know this guy who’s a great one night stand but he’s also a real sweetheart.”

“Those two things usually don’t go together.” You looked at her suspiciously.

“Trust me. He’s not needy at all and he’s pretty chill.” She grinned and raised her eyebrows like she was a used-car salesman trying to sell you the most expensive car on the lot. You laughed loudly, making some other patrons turn to look at you.

“You’re not a pimp, Suze. I’m not gonna meet up with this guy just to bang him. It's mortifying enough that I'm the last virgin in LA; I don't need your friend having pity sex with me.”

“Then I won’t mention the virginity thing to him. He’ll just thinks it’s a blind date,” Suzy said as she stood up and you followed suit. The two of you made your way to the trashcan and then out the door. She needed to head back to work and you knew you had to as well, regardless of how boring and soul-crushing it was.

“I dunno. This feels kinda skeevy.”

“Just think about it. You don’t need to answer right now.”

You smiled. Suzy was your best friend and you knew she was just trying to help. “Alright. I’ll text you.”

“Bye, babe.” She hugged you and you both went your separate ways. The café wasn’t far from your apartment so you hadn’t bothered to drive. A few cars drove down on the street and you were for the most part the only one walking on the sidewalk. Most people were still at work and you were thankful that you set your own schedule so that you could wander around town during a weekday.

“Hey, baby! Show me what ya pee with!” Someone shouted. You turned to see a man in a yellow jeep driving towards you. His stupid, albeit handsome, face jutted out of his window and he winked as he drove by. His blonde hair was cut short on the sides and the top was coiffed into a pompadour. His jaw was covered in scruff and flawlessly chiseled; it could have cut diamonds. You probably would have considered dating him if he hadn’t verbally harassed you. You made an audible gagging noise and a wonderful ugly face to go with it before continuing your walk home at a much quicker pace.

Then a realization hit you. Maybe the reason you were getting shitty guys is because you picked them out. Maybe you needed someone with better judgement to pick one for you. After reaching your apartment, you fumbled through your purse for your keys. They were somehow always missing when you needed them. You finally found them after pulling out your phone, wallet, sunglasses a pack of gum, baseball cap, and half a dozen receipts. Sliding your phone into your pocket, you swung open your door and slung your bag and shoes off with wanton abandon. With a deep sigh, you grabbed your phone to send a message to Suzy.

I’m in. What’s his name?