So let’s fast forward 10 years. I am nearly 15 years old and it is the summer before my sophomore year in high school. All through my freshman year I had had various crushes – The Copp brothers – first Nico and then his twin Marc, then the one that lasted into the summer Harry MacHillivary. Harry’s sister Sue and I had been friendly enough during the school year, so I sort of had an in with him through her, but nothing serious EVER came of it. At all. He knew I had a crush and he enjoyed it but I wasn’t his type. Still it didn’t stop me from hoping so when Sue called me one hot day in July and asked if I wanted to come over and hang out with her, Harry’s best friend Scott, and Harry I jumped at the chance. Hails yeah I wanted to hang.
This would be the first time I’d ever seriously made out with a boy. A freakin’ dream come true. There I was on the couch in Scott’s basement making out! with Harry MacHillivary while Scott and Susan made out in the chair across from us. I was excited and nervous and not at all sure what to do with my tongue or my hands, but with Harry’s help I muddled through. And? And?! He totally touched my boob through my t-shirt and my mom’s hand me down Playtex padded bra!! It was a very. big. deal. and I must have been doing something right because he stopped kissing me long enough to ask, “Do you wanna go upstairs?”
Which, okay, I might have been naive and virginal, but I knew what he was asking. He wanted to know if I wanted to have s.e.x.. With him. Upstairs.
Hey, I might have been thrilled that I’d incited such lust, but I wasn’t stupid. I read novels by Judy Blume. I watched the very special ABC after school specials. I knew the heat did crazy things to people and got them pregnant. So I said something that I’d heard once and labeled as cool enough to use should a certain situation ever arise. I said, “No thanks. I’d rather stay down here with you.”
Yeah. Because I’m cool like that.
My witty refusal of his advances as well as my mother saying I needed to be home by 3 pretty much ended the make out-possible sex session and the four of us went upstairs to get something to drink. Ever the gentleman Harry dug in the freezer for some ice to put in my water – except instead of ice he came out with a package of frozen chicken breasts and handed it to me with a smile that said everything I needed to know about Harry MacHillivary.
Of course, pride and a distinct uncertainty of what exactly to do in such a situation dictated that I play it cool and be all in on the joke, you know? I was all, “ha ha! frozen chicken breast – because you touched my boobie. I get it. Ha ha! I’m cool like you!” And even on the walk home I was more thrilled with having made out with Harry MacHillivary than I was embarrassed that I’d totally been used and then laughed at.
It wasn’t until after I called BFF and told all, and even laughed/bragged about the frozen chicken breast, that it truly set in. He didn’t care about me. Not even a little. And just like that he wasn’t so cute anymore and for once I was absolutely glad that my mother was strict and had insisted that an hour was plenty of time to “hang out with friends.” I made up my mind that afternoon that even though it had been mostly harmless and even though he had been man enough to stop when I’d said no, that Harry MacHillivary and all guys like him were to be avoided. I didn’t like feeling used or cheap and it wasn’t going to happen again.
Life lesson learned. Thank you Harry, wherever you are.