Something Like Fate (editing)

Chapter Three (edited/re-written)

In the real world, meanwhile, girls I knew were calling each other sluts as well as prudes and skipping away giggling with guys or pushing the boys away. As they tore each other down slowly for their level of interests in guys, I wanted so desperately for there to be other ways to describe girls who wanted attention from guys or none at all or maybe just a little bit, because I never wanted my reputation to be defined by my involvement with boys. There was gossip of how the sluts had no friends and the prudes had no future. Lucy was talking about losing her virginity and Dina had gotten her first boyfriend. My anxiety was kicking in since I didn't do well with pressure. And that's why I gave in to Harry Turner.

Harry was known as the class clown in my year. He was pretty popular because of his ability to make fun out of any authority and provided laughter in lesson with his commentary, even if this caused him to be kicked out of class. He was attractive enough with his dirty blonde hair and cheeky smile, but his crooked teeth stopped him from being the guy that all the girls stared after. No, that honour went to trophy boy Lucas Tressdale. I wasn't majorly attracted to Harry, his lack of respect for teachers put me off since I was good student, but I figured I'd give him a chance. I didn't have any other prospects and I knew Lucas nor Leonardo weren't going to come begging anytime soon.

We both kind of settled for each other because, just like hot people find each other, so do fairly average teens with spots.

Harry ended up taking me bowling. He spent the entire time accusing me of cheating as I beat him every game. I think he thought he was flirting. He just talked and talked and talked the entire time without even stopping to listen to my replies. I imagined being married to him twenty years from then and just crying every single day over never being able to speak again, just listening to his gravelly voice drone on. All I wanted to do was go home to call Lucy yet Harry had somehow convinced me to into the dark corridor of the arcade under the pretence of showing me something.

He ambushed me with his lips. It was a wet and sloppy kiss as I let him take control just so it could be over soon.

"You're a terrible kisser," he informed me as he pulled away, as if I wasn't there making out with a guy who shoved his tongue down my throat. I was offended. "I can show you all those things you've never ever done."

"Never," I whispered against his chapped lips. I was lying. The first time I ever kissed a guy was when I was thirteen and visiting family friends in Kent for New Year – I stole a lingering kiss from their gawky son, Adam, who was two years older than me, as he stood there shocked while I entered back to the other room where our oblivious parents were. It was a spur of the moment thing. At that point in my life, I never felt so alive and in control other than in that brief, awkward moment.

But Harry didn't need to know he was two years late.

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" he asked for confirmation. I knew he'd go tell all his friends at school on Monday.

I hesitated. A part of me always assumed that my lack of sexual action was fairly obvious, like, there was a big sign around me flashing virgin in neon lights for all to see. I didn't get why it was so important for him to have me say it. "Of course."

I just stood there in the dark corner of an old bowling alley, as Harry clumsily clawed at my boobs, while I blocked him out to listen to whirring of the machines from around the corner. My nose was attacked by the stench of his cheap cologne mixed with sweat, I wanted to hurl both from his touch and odour. I wondered whether relationships were just like those games in the arcade: one person wins, the other loses. I was losing big time. It scared me how quickly I let someone compromise who I was. And in that moment I decided that if being called a slut or prude meant that I'd at least be with boys I'd want to kiss then it seemed worth it. It seemed like a pretty basic thing, you know, just kissing someone you liked and not being judged for it.

"Stop, Harry," I said as his hands went to the front of his jeans to unbutton them. "I mean it."

"Come on," he gave me a quick kiss before going back to task. "This is fun, trust me."

"I don't want to."

He laughed. Panic formed in my chest. We were by ourselves and from here no-one could be able to help me. I didn't want to lose my virginity to him. Not in the back of the arcade. Not ever. Hell, I didn't even want to kiss him. But then again, perhaps he just didn't hear me properly. I tried to convince myself that my instincts were wrong, they had to be.

"Harry, not here," I tried to persuade him. "Someone might come in."

"They won't," he tried to assure me. He unzipped his jeans and I had a vision of where this was going.

I pushed him away with all the strength I had. Anger was building up in me because he'd ruined my entire evening, refusing to just listen to me. "Get off..."

My back hit the wall harshly as he shoved me back. Harry didn't look like that harmless jokester boy from class. He looked like a guy mad at me with anger swirling in his eyes and heavy breaths coming out of him as he snarled at me, revealing his crooked and yellow teeth in the process. I felt pure fury take over my body, even though I was terrified underneath. If I pretended to be strong then I had hoped that he'd back down.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I hissed at him. "You're such a loser."

And then he smacked his hand against my face. For a moment I didn't understand what had happened but then the delayed pain in my temple kicked in. I clutched the side of my face in shock as his eyes widened upon realisation of what happened. His cheeky smile was gone. Gone was the harmless boy I had known since I was 12. Harry had terror in his eyes. He was scared. And I felt shame as I stood there shaking, as if my pride along with my face was wounded. If it wasn't so awful then I'd laugh about it. He didn't utter a word, just rushed away while doing his trousers back up, as if he was the one who now had been hit by the reality of what he had done.

After that day, we didn't even look at each other. Harry told his mates I was a prude, I think it was his way of justifying his actions, but he shouldn't have bothered since I never told a single soul about that day. All I did was vaguely write the date off as a major disaster to my friends and chose to deal with the pain myself. I never wanted to burden my friends, to be the one to ruin the illusion that everything was perfect with the world. 

"I'm just going to check in on Sandra," Debbie says, unknowingly scaring away the memory of Harry as I snap back to reality. "I bet she's been eating away at the biscuits again."

I look around the empty reception room. There are only two chairs out and a wobbly table that we've covered with a faded woolly red blanket, which is so ugly that it looks as if someone threw up blood all over it. The colour is a stark contrast to the dull walls. Beige fills my eyes as the colour reflects back the boring nature of my own life, and I'm using a computer so old that it can take twenty minutes just to log into Facebook. It's so bare and bland. It's a place for those barely breathing.

When Debbie has left the room, I get out my phone and look at a picture of me and Isaac on the last week of summer. He's smiling big for the camera, his pearly whites showing, as I lean into him with the hopes I'll never have to let go. My eyes are closed and it's clear I'm taking his warm form in that makes my skin tingle every single time he touches me. 

That was one of the happiest days of my life. I was free, then, from the stress of having my future sorted and just could spend time with a guy who had sweetly spent half of the day pushing me on the swing, playfully only taking kisses in return, and letting me finish off his ice-cream after I ate mine too quickly in excitement. It doesn't sound romantic or fun, but it was so beautiful for what it was because I didn't feel pressure for that split moment to be anything other than I was – a girl torn between growing up and just wanting life to slow down.

That's the thing about life, though. Sometimes it doesn't give you a choice.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Remember to leave your thoughts, I value all feedback! :)