I was actually more than happy to go out with Tara, because that meant I wouldn’t have to be at home, which felt pretty unbearable since my parents’ little chat with me about school. The first part of dinner I spent listening to Tara bitch about Michael. She got her phone out and scrolled through a bunch of pictures that I tried to pretend to be interested in seeing, though I really had no desire to ever see his face again. Still, even I had to admit it looked like he and whoever that girl was were having a good time.
“Is she prettier than me?” Tara asked. She shoved the phone in my face. “I mean, this is who he left me for, so she better be.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I said. “She’s not unattractive, but I don’t think she’s prettier than you are.”
I’d meant to be consoling, but Tara just got an even more perplexed look on her face. “If she’s not prettier than I am, then what the hell? Is she better in bed than me?”
I held my hands up. “I am not qualified to answer that question. Maybe we should talk about something else.” I reached over and took a piece of bread from the bread basket. “He’s really not worth your energy, Tara.”
“It’s not even that I want to get back with him, because I don’t—I just want him to know that I am completely unbothered by the fact that he left me for someone else. And to do that, I need to find someone hotter than he is.” She cast her gaze around the restaurant, which right now was mostly full of couples and a few families with children. “My prospects here don’t look that great, though.” She picked up her glass of white wine and drained it. “Anyway. I feel shitty enough about this as is; let’s talk about something else. Let’s talk about how this summer is going to be the best summer of your life! Because you’re 21 and can now officially come with me to bars and clubs. Which we’re going to tonight, by the way.”
“So you’ve told me. I’m not planning to get drunk, though.”
“Have you ever been drunk before?”
I took a sip of my own wine, which tasted bitter and not very good. I tried not to make a face as I swallowed it.
“I knew it.” Tara had a satisfied smile on her face. “You’re such a good girl. I mean, that’s one of the things I like about you, but it’s almost unbelievable. What 21-year-old has never been drunk before?”
“I’m sure I’m not the only one,” I said. “And it’s not like I didn’t have the opportunity.”
“Which almost makes it worse. I mean, next you’re going to tell me you’re still a virgin.”
I felt my face flush a little. I was still a virgin. Tara’s eyes widened before I could say anything. “Holy shit!” she exclaimed, loud enough that the people seated nearest to us glanced over. “You are! Look at you—you’re blushing!”
The heat rose even further on my face. I hated that I blushed so easily, but I hoped I could blame it on the few sips of wine I’d taken.
“It’s just the wine,” I hissed.
Tara raised a skeptical eyebrow at my still-full glass. “I’m not judging you if you are,” she said.
“Well, I am.” I shrugged. “I just decided that it was something I didn’t want to do unless it was with someone that I was in a relationship with. You know, so it would actually mean something.”
It sounded a little silly now, though, as I said it out loud, and I could tell that Tara thought so, too.
“See, I’ve always felt the opposite way,” she said. “I wanted to get some experience first, so when I finally met the right guy—who I thought was Michael—I’d know what I was doing. You know, so you’re not going into it completely clueless.” She took another sip of her wine and then put her elbows on the table and leaned toward me, a conspiratorial grin on her face. “I just had the best idea,” she said.
“I’m not sure I want to hear this.”
“No, you do. It’ll be great. This summer—we’re going to get you laid. We’re going to find you a guy to lose your virginity to. Maybe he’ll end up being the one—if so, great—but if not, you’ll now have some experience for when you actually do meet the one.”
“I’m too busy to meet the one right now.”
“It’s summer! Who’s busy in the summer?”
“I mean, I’ve still got school. I’ve got an internship this summer, too. Well, an unofficial one.”
Tara looked thoroughly unimpressed. “But why? Summer’s when you’re supposed to relax. No obligations. No responsibilities. What is this ‘internship?’”
“My mom’s friends with one of the gallery owners downtown, and they agreed to include a piece of mine in their next show at the end of August.” I decided not to mention the previous conversation I’d had with my parents; I didn’t feel like getting into all that again.
“Oh. So, you’ve got all summer, then.”
“Yeah, but it needs to be good. I can’t just slap something together last minute.”
“Painting?”
“No, I’m going to do a sculpture. I feel bad enough about it as it is—my mother didn’t really tell me that she was doing this until after she’d talked to Claudia about giving me a spot in the show. Which means that someone else isn’t going to have that spot.”