That Boy

Right now I'm getting some snacks together to take out to the tent.

“Phillip, come help me!” I yell across the street, as I struggle to carry everything.

Phillip runs over and grabs two grocery sacks full of candy and snacks from my arms. I'm left with just the big bowl of warm buttered popcorn. As I'm following Phillip across the street, Da

“Why do you look so sneaky?” I ask him, as we meet up in the street.

Da

Da

“I'll tell you later, just act normal in case my parents are watching.”

Later, after we'd eaten most of the snacks and are playing cards, Da

Phillip, who I figured would tell us exactly what a bad idea this is because he tends to be the most conservative of the three of us, says, to my surprise, “Hell, yeah.”

So of course, I say, “Sounds awesome.”

We open our beers and Da

I'm pretty sure he heard that on a commercial.

We drink up. A few hours and few beers later, we're basically drunk. Good thing our parents are already in bed.

See. I told you things could happen out here before bedtime.

The boys and I talk about who likes who and who doesn't like who, all the gossip. We don't know the answers to these questions, but we talk and laugh anyway. Then we share the last beer.

Actually, I was smart and only pretended to drink from it.

We are laughing and laughing when the boys start telling me about how they wake up in the morning with hard, you know whats. So I say, well that's nothing, and proceed to tell them in gory detail all about a period.

I ask them why they are so obsessed with girls who have big boobs, and they want to know why girls only like guys taller than them.

Later that night, Da

I earned honors because I didn't.

Of course, I felt terrible the next day, but I will never admit it.

Three days until my first real date. I am so excited!

I am also a paranoid, nervous wreck.

I like this boy so much! His name is Ryan. Ryan Marshall. Ryan is so good looking, and he's a SENIOR! He reminds Katie and me of Jake, from the movie, Sixteen Candles. I know, it's an old movie and the clothes are weird, but it's still fu

So how does this sound?

JJ Marshall.

Jadyn Marshall.

Jadyn James Reynolds-Marshall.

Mrs. Ryan Marshall.

Doesn't that just roll off your tongue?

Speaking of tongues, they are the main reason I'm a nervous wreck. Ryan is a senior and well, sadly, I'm not all that experienced with boys. I mean, I'm a freshman and have been to dances with boys my age and even have gone out with boys, but I've never really kissed them. Not like I hope to kiss Ryan anyway.

Bobby Robinson did shove his tongue into my mouth one time, when we were kissing under the bleachers at a football game, but it didn't feel so good. I'm pretty sure he didn't have it exactly right.

So I talked to my friends, Katie and Lisa, about how to properly make out.

But, well, here is just a bit of their unhelpful advice.

Just let him take the lead, do what ever he does.

Um, couldn't that get me into a lot of trouble?

Just sort of kiss his tongue, but try not to drool.

Don't open your mouth too wide.

And then, Just open your mouth wide.

See?

Stupid, conflicting information.

And this from girls who supposedly know how to do this!

I feel like I'm an undercover CIA agent trying to wrestle vital information out of a ruthless double agent, and the fate of the free world depends upon it. All the while, the President is yelling at me in a panic, saying, Somebody! Anybody! Just get me the truth!

You know, this is really the kind of stuff that it would be helpful to learn in health class. Much more useful information than knowing how a fallopian tube works or what kinds of cancer I can fight by adding fiber to my diet.

I mean, this date is of EPIC proportions.

He's a senior for God's sake!

My high school reputation could be ruined or made in one single night.

I don't want to be known as a terrible kisser!

Or Worse! Totally Inexperienced!

I've got to do something.

Get me somebody, anybody!

I need someone who has experience and, most importantly, who will help me.

I glance out my window and see Da

Ch-Ching.

Da

So I call him. “Da

“No, they went to that parents' meeting at school with yours.”

Yay!

“Good. I'm coming over. And you're, like, totally alone? Phillip isn't there, is he?”

“No, I'm totally alone. What's up, Jay?”

“Um, I just really, really need your help with something. Be right there.”

I slam down the phone, run out of my house and over to his. I barge in the front door and take the stairs two at a time up to his bedroom. He's sitting on his bed with a varsity football playbook spread out in front of him. I can tell by the intense look on his face, he has been studying hard. Da

“Hey, Jay,” he says, straightening up, “what's the top secret meeting all about?”

Maybe this was a bad idea.

No. You've got to find this stuff out.

It's vital to our country's well being!

Okay, that's a bit dramatic, but it is vital to my well being.

I pace the length of his room a couple of times, wringing my hands together, trying to get my nerve up. “Okay, here it is. I need your help and well, I'm kind of embarrassed to say it, but here goes. I have that date with Ryan on Saturday, and Da

Da

“This is a joke, right?” he laughs, gets off the bed, and looks down the hall. “Where's Phillip hiding?”

“No, Da

“Let me get this right, Jay. You want me to show you how to have sex?” He has a huge goofball grin on his face. “Wow. Well, I suppose that could be arrang….”

“WAIT! WHAT??!! Sex! Da