It was a party. It was wild. There was loud electronic music and all kinds of fancy lighting devices all over the place. Three floors, plus a backyard: an old house at a fancy neighborhood turned into a night club. People danced, kissed, and I think I saw some couples having sex in the darker corners of the place, but I didn’t dare, or want, to investigate further.
I wasn’t supposed to be there. Neither was Catherine. We were minors and anyone who asked for our IDs had good reason to take us to a police station and call our families. It would be bad if someone called my mom, but it would be even worse for Cath. The only reason she was allowed this much freedom was because she worked her butt pretending to be a perfect daughter. Her parents trusted her. She said she was having a sleepover with me at her cousin’s, they didn’t even bat an eye.
Said cousin was an accomplice as well. In fact, she was the DJ. And while the bodyguard up front was asking everyone for tickets and IDs, Catherine’s cousin simply walked through the gate with us (“they’re with me,” she told the bodyguard). And that’s how I found myself in a nightclub drinking vodka for the first time in my life.
I was a little tipsy, but not much. I only had one shot of the thing and didn’t enjoy it very much. It loosened me up, to the point where I was actually dancing with the crowd without a care in the world.
I looked for Catherine, but didn’t find her. And honestly, just this once in my life, I was allowed to have some fun without worrying about others. So I just danced.
“Hey pretty.”
Dang. Not guys. Especially not drunk guys.
“You’re cute,” said a playboyish guy with freckles and a baseball cap. “You here alone?”
I wanted to say no, that I was here with someone, but I didn’t know how to make up a lie when I was drunk and scared.
“You wanna dance?”
“No, err…” I tried to get away.
“Hey, why are you in a hurry?”
He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer.
I screamed.
The music drowned my scream.
I couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Come on, dude! Let her go!”
It was a girl’s voice. A tall woman with braided hair was speaking to baseball-cap-guy. They were about the same height and she did look strong enough to fight a wimpy guy like him.
The guy let go of my arm.
“We were just having some fun.”
“She doesn’t want that kind of fun, so just leave her be, okay?” Then she turned to me: “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I think so,” I had to more-or-less shout in order for us to hear each other.
“I’m glad. These types can be quite hard to deal with. You here with anyone? I can help you look for them.”
“I’m with my…” My eyes fell on Catherine, who was making out with some guy right next to the DJ stand. I grimaced.
The girl seemed to understand. Or almost.
“That your boyfriend?” She asked, looking at the couple.
“No,” I told her. “Just, my friend Catherine being stupid.”
“I’m glad. So you’re not here with some guy?”
“I don’t swing that way.”
I felt my face heat up and I knew I was blushing. That was probably the first time I told anyone about my sexuality, save for Catherine, of course, and the first time I said out loud that I was gay.
The woman by my side smiled. Cute smile.
“Say, you wanna go somewhere more silent?”
I took her up on her proposal. We climbed the stairs toward the terrace.
There were a lot of people smoking up there, and not just cigarettes either. The music was different here, more moody, a blend of reggae, jazz and classic rock. The woman and I stopped by the guard railing at the edge of the roof. It had a nice view of the neighborhood, mostly deserted since it was already past 3 a.m. She took a pack of cigarettes from the inner pocket of her jeans jacket and offered me one.
“No, thanks.”
“I have pot too if you like that better.”
“I’m… good, thanks.”
She put a cigarette to her mouth but didn’t light it. Then she took the cigarette again and put it away.
“Seems I lost my lighter. Say, I never did ask you your name.”
“Janis.”
“My favorite singer.”
I laughed. “Yeah, she’s mine too.”
“I’m Michelle, by the way. Call me Mich, or Elle, or anything you want really.”
“Anything I want?”
I looked at her and our eyes met.
Was I flirting? I was flirting, wasn’t I? I was just a little bit too drunk to tell up the difference at this point. And I didn’t care. I looked at Michelle. She really was kinda cute. Tall and strong-looking, like those women who play volleyball on TV. Maybe she did play a sport like that. I really liked the dimple on her right cheek when she smiled.
Next thing I knew, we were kissing. It happened fast and it didn’t help much that I was drunk and don’t remember the details. I remember her touching my face with her soft hands, I definitely remember checking out her boobs. One more thing I remember was that I kissed her, not the other way around. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was me letting my sexuality go wild after finally admitting to the world I was gay, the matter of the fact was that I was being a lot more daring that night than I usually was.
That was my first real kiss. Not to mention, my first kiss with a girl. Assuming, of course, that the quick kiss Catherine and I shared just for fun ages ago didn’t count. Which it didn’t. As Michelle bit my lower lip and caressed my tongue with hers, I realized this is what it was supposed to be like. It was getting me hot. I felt excited to be touched by her. She slid her hands under my shirt. I pulled her closer, putting my right leg between hers. This felt really good.
It didn’t feel like love or romance. It was something more basic than that. Something raw, a drive I had inside me and I believe she also had. This was lust, desire. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to touch myself, or if I wanted us to touch each other. It felt like a mix of both.
Michelle slipped a hand inside my pants, touching my ass and pulling me even closer to her. She let go of my lips for a moment and bit my ear.
I moaned.
And that kind of freaked me out.
I pushed her away gently. I realized that if we kept that up, we’d end up like those couples in the dark corners of the building. And I decided that this was an experience I didn’t want to happen just yet. Someday, definitely. At that moment I craved it with every cell in my body. Just… not yet.
“You’re a great kisser,” I told her.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” she said, smiling, showing me that cute dimple of hers.
“Thanks. It’s my first time.”
“Your first time… what?”
“Kissing... Well, French kissing, to be fair. First time I had one."
That caught her off-guard. Her eyebrows raised and her mouth moved, but she couldn’t figure out any words to say. I grinned, it was kind of fun to mess with her.
“Er… sorry?” she said.
“Don’t be. I loved it.”
“If… you don’t mind me asking… how old are you?”
“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
She laughed. It was refreshing to hear that sound.
“Third year, starting next month.”
She took her hands to her forehead.
“Dang. I can’t believe I just kissed a high schooler.”
She was trying to pass it off as a joke, but I could tell it really was something she was sensitive about. And I knew that she was worried about me. As if she’d taken something from me she shouldn’t have. I wanted her to know that everything was all right and there was nothing for her to worry about.
“Stop fussing. You didn’t hurt me or anything, okay? I really enjoyed what we just did and I’m glad I tricked you into thinking I was a little bit older. I might do it again if it’s going to get me another kiss.”
“You’re really something,” she told me, chuckling. Then she grimaced. “Oh god.”
“What now?”
“I offered you pot.”
I burst into laughter. I think that reaction helped her loosen up too. I began chatting with her. I asked how many times she’d been at that club, what her hobbies were, her favorite movies and such. For a long time, we just talked, like old friends catching up after a long time apart. She told me about her exes and how her last breakup pushed her into going pro as a volleyball player (I knew it!). I told her about my job, the comics I read, and whatever else I could think of that was fun to talk about. I didn’t touch the more sensitive subjects, like my mother’s situation, or the whole thing with Ceres, I really didn’t want to dampen the mood.
At some point Catherine climbed up the stairs and walked toward us.
“I’ve looked for you everywhere! You—”, she stopped, once she realized I was not alone. “Ummm…”
“Catherine, this is Michelle. We were just getting to know each other. Y’know, becoming more intimate and stuff.”
I said it as a joke, but it visibly caused an impression on them both. Michelle blushed furiously and turned her face away. Catherine’s jaw dropped.
“I’m just joking,” I told her, not really meaning it. Sure, I had said it that way mostly to mess up with the two of them, but we did share a kiss.
Catherine sighed.
“Turns out you don’t need my help, after all.”
“Ummm… Cath? What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. By the way, Jay, are you going to stay up here longer? Because my cousin is done with her job for tonight. I was thinking of going back with her. To… take a bath and get some sleep at her place, so I don’t show up at home looking like a zombie.”
“Sounds good. I’ll tag along.”
I told Michelle goodbye. She took my hand in hers and kissed it like a gentleman (gentlewoman?). Then she looked at me with visible concern and asked me to take care. I was kinda impressed. She seemed like the type who’d make a very caring and dedicated girlfriend. I thanked her for the night and left with Catherine toward the stairs.
“Just joking?” she asked me, defiantly, when we were away from Michelle.
“Well, we did make out for a bit,” I said, shamelessly.
We met Catherine’s cousin on the first floor. She was packing up her equipment while another DJ on the second floor kept the music going. There was going to be another artist there soon, she told me, so they had to tidy up quick so that this other artist could set up their equipment.
I wished I could stay, though. I was having a blast. But I remembered this meant being alone around those drunk guys. It was well about time I went home.
I was helping Cath’s cousin carry her stuff to the trunk of her car, when Catherine called me out.
“Hey Jay, where’s your purse?”
Oh no…
I put down the box I was carrying and began to think. When was the last time I still remembered having my purse with me?
And the answer flashed in my memory like a photograph. I placed it on the ground when Michelle and I began to make out. If nobody had taken it, then it would still be there when I went back to the rooftop.
I climbed the stairs in a hurry and nearly bumped into Michelle. She was carrying my purse with her.
“Thank god you’re here,” she said. “You left this behind!”
“I know.” I told her of how I’d only just then realized it and was on my way back to get it. Then I thanked her several times for her help.
At that moment, I heard someone call my name.
“Janis?”
I knew that voice. §
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