The Last Virgin Standing

Chapter 31: Benefits of the Aging Process

"Sounds romantic. Or something out of a horror story. You're not trying to kill me, are you?"

He laughed again. It reminded me of a quiet but still ominous rumble during a thunderstorm. "If I were trying to kill you, I'd be more sneaky about it. I'd also bring you somewhere other than a mountain."

"That'd be a good place to do it. Away from people."

"You're an idiot for giving me ideas, Charlotte. Your life could end tonight."

"I didn't agree to go with you."

"But you're going to."

"How can you be so sure of yourself?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You mean aside from my ruggedly striking appearance? I didn't know you wanted more than that."

"You're going to have to try to harder than that if you want me to go with you."

"I'm not going to grovel and beg. I'm not that desperate. If anything, I think you'd be the one wanting my company."

I crossed my arms and glared. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing," he dismissed. "Anyways, are you up for this weekend?"

I subtly bit my lip, debating whether I should be stubborn or not. I couldn't bring myself to decline a Tyler opportunity, especially if it was a date, because they were rarer than my Dad's steak when we were barbecuing.

I sighed. Tyler took it as a sign of me giving in because he smiled triumphantly. "Friday night. I'll pick you up at seven."

Shaking my head and rolling my eyes, I walked away from him, satisfied that I had locked in yet another date. I wondered if the other girls got nearly as much attention as I did. Probably not. Their position in the game wasn't as high-stakes as mine. It probably sounded a bit conceited and superficial, but it was true. I was the last virgin standing, and I intended for it to be true by the time graduation rolled around.

***

It was eight minutes past seven and Tyler's car was nowhere in sight. I was all bundled up, much to my dad's delight, and peeking out the window every three seconds. I couldn't say I was surprised that Tyler was running late. He wasn't exactly the most punctual guy around. In his defense, it was only eight minutes. Eight minutes seemed like a long time for a girl who had been ready since 6:45.

7:20.

"You're still here?" Dad asked, quite shocked to see that my toasty self was still moping beside the window.

I sighed sadly, glancing out the window longingly. "He's not here yet."

"I think you've been stood up, kiddo."

"Maybe the roads are bad."

"I don't think so, Charlotte. Do you want me to make you a cup of cocoa? There's still some hot water in the kettle."

I shook my head. "No, that's okay. I'll just wait here in case he comes."

He put his hands in the pockets of his navy bathrobe. "If you insist."

He turned to walk away, when my voice caused him to stop. "But if he doesn't show up within the next ten minutes, I'd like whipped cream on top."

"Sure thing, kiddo."

"Thanks, Dad."

"I hope he shows up."

"Me too."

Tyler never showed up. I started peeling away my multitude of layers at around 7:50. I left the window around 8:30. Dad brought me the hot chocolate and insisted that I come watch The Office with him before I fell into a state of wintry depression. With each tick the second-hand made, I felt my heart sink a little. I don't know why it hurt as much as it did, but then again being stood up never made anyone happy. Perhaps the game was making me arrogant and causing me to think of myself as higher than I actually was. I was glamorizing myself. Even though Tyler never took me out, he left me with the check; a reality check, that is.