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girls’ locker room waiting for me. He had showered after the game and his blond hair had darkened from the moisture. His blue eyes were earnest as he called out my name. I pulled my cheerleading gear bag close to my body as I awkwardly followed him into a quiet corner of the hallway. I had just been yelling cheers for him: Ya gotta dribble, pass, shoot to score, Ya gotta pivot, two-three-four! But being alone with him left me speechless. When he asked me out I blurted out yes before stammering out excuses about my parents waiting for me.
    A year later, there was nary a trace of that sweet and earnest boy in sight. I wanted that boy back, the one who picked flowers for me before our first date and who left notes in my locker. Not the sexually aggressive man he was growing to be, the one who was possessive and domineering.
    Hunter’s fingers looped around the string of my underwear and he yanked down. I put my hands over his, struggling with him to put my panties back in place. Instead he swatted my hands away and reached under the material to stick three fingers inside of me. I reared back, landing awkwardly on the couch next to him. Heat flooded my face and I glared at him. His smug smile made me violent.
    “I knew you wanted me. I don’t know why you’re trying to play in nocent when your pussy is begging for it,” he said, holding up his glistening fingers for emphasis.
    “I don’t care what my body says, my mouth says no,” I hissed and added, “ asshole.”
    My blood ran cold at his harsh laughter. I fled from the house with his mockery stinging my ears. I should’ve branded the memory into my brain and held onto it. Instead, I forgave him when he called later that night. He stumbled over his apology and promised to wait forever if that’s what I needed. His contrition caused me to wonder why I clung to my virginity like it was a life raft. I loved Hunter. Maybe I could help get back the light he had lost since his dad left.
    The irony was the week my world fel l apart was the same week I planned to have sex with Hunter. Our junior prom was scheduled for the weekend and instead of seeing the loss of my virginity on prom night as a cliché, I convinced myself of its romanticism. In the days after, when I was so crushed by sadness I couldn’t get out of bed, I imagined divine intervention in play. Rationalizing that perhaps the timing of my world’s implosion was meant to keep me from giving up my virginity to Hunter. By then, I vowed that not only would Hunter never touch me again, neither would any other man.
     
    ***
     
    Josh was the perfect dinner date; he did and said all the right things. He opened doors for me, pulled out my chair at the restaurant, and insisted I order first. I dug deep inside, willing myself to feel something for the charming boy before me. Josh’s entire demeanor radiated with goodness. I should’ve been attracted to that quality. I needed safe. Because falling for Blake Preston was a million miles away from safe. Not only did my crush guarantee a broken heart because of Blake’s disinterest, but, at least on the surface, Blake seemed to possess the quality I hated most in men: the sense of arrogant entitlement.
    The Italian restaurant Josh chose was nice and expensive. I was flattered—college students didn’t normally have the luxury of dropping a hundred dollars on a meal. I tried to be a good date, smile when appropriate, laugh at his self-deprecating jokes, but I wasn’t sure if he could see my carefully crafted mask disintegrating.
    “How’s the chicken?” Josh asked, using his fork to point to my barely touched chicken cacciatore. My nerves were too frayed to eat as much as I would’ve liked.
    “Good. Chicken probably seems boring with all of the menu choices.”
    “I could never think of you as boring,” he said sincerely before turning back to his tortellini with Italian sausage.
    I hoped he didn’t see my blush. I didn’t know how to accept a compliment