Chapter 1 #2
I dig my toes into the Cheeto-crusted comforter and say, “Honestly? I kind of want to know what huge size is like.”
There’s a tiny silence, and then Stella says, in a very small voice, “Me too.”
And just like that, the whole world shifts. We all start giggling, then laughing, then shrieking until an RA bangs on the door and threatens to write us up for “disturbing the peace.”
When he finally goes away, we’re still breathless and sticky with sugar and secret shame. If anyone had asked what we were doing in here, not one of us could’ve told the truth.
But I think, just maybe, we all wish we were Simone McCall, even if only for one night.
After the laptop is banished and the echoes of our “whitezilla” shrieking finally die down, a weird hush settles over the room. Not awkward, exactly—more like we’ve cracked open something sticky and secret, and now we’re not sure what to do with it.
Stella picks at the crusted nail polish on her big toe. Kayleigh’s fingers drum at her phone but she’s not really scrolling, just pretending not to be the next one to talk. Mary Kate munches her Goldfish at triple speed, eyes flicking between us like she’s waiting for the punchline.
It’s me who breaks the silence. “Not to be all after-school-special, but you guys, I have a big secret.”
Three pairs of eyes turn to me, brows raised.
“And?” Mary Kate prompts.
I swallow hard because this is harder than I thought.
“Well, I’ve dated boys in the past, but actually … I’ve never done it.”
Nobody says anything. Mary Kate’s lips twitch in this tight, anxious smile. Stella stares at the ceiling like it’s got the answer painted up there.
“Like,” I press on, “everyone else is either out there having wild experimental threesomes or crying about their first time, and honestly? I nod and smile and ooh and ahh, but I’ve never actually had a penis in my vagina.
I’ve done other stuff, like hand jobs and blow jobs, but not that.
Basically, I’m here eating Cheetos and watching actual dick-zillas on Pornhub. ”
Stella snorts and tugs the blanket over her legs. “That’s not so bad. I mean, aren’t you supposed to wait for, like, love or whatever?”
Kayleigh makes a dramatic gagging noise. “I’m gonna need at least a test drive before I invest in an entire car, thank you.”
Mary Kate finally sits up, legs folded under her, cheeks glowing. She opens her mouth, hesitates, then blurts, “I’ve never done it either. I mean, not really. I’ve fooled around with a couple guys, but never gotten to home base. So yeah, no dick in vagina.”
We all stare. Not in judgment—just surprise, and maybe a little relief that someone else finally said it out loud.
Kayleigh is the first to recover. “Wait, like, at all? Not even a soft one at a party?”
Mary Kate shakes her head, tight-lipped and mortified. “Nope. Not even by accident. I just… I don’t know. It hasn’t happened. Boys get weird around me.”
Stella pats Mary Kate’s ankle in a way that’s surprisingly tender. “I get it. I mean, I went to an all-girls Catholic school. The only penis I ever saw was in biology class, laminated in a textbook, and someone drew a mustache on it.”
We all crack up at that, the tension bleeding out of the air.
Kayleigh sighs, a little dramatic. “Okay, okay, I admit. I’m also in the same boat.
I thought I was the only freak. Like, I make out with boys and it just—never gets that far.
I’m always too chicken to let them, you know.
” She gestures vaguely at her body, then laughs.
“Actually, I’m kind of scared my vagina’s just for display. ”
Stella clucks her tongue.
“It’s not for display because it works. I know because I’ve done it. Okay, maybe not exactly, I guess, if we’re getting technical. I mean, I’ve seen a penis. My cousin’s friend flashed me at a pool party when I was fifteen. It was honestly pretty traumatizing.”
Kayleigh barks out a laugh. “That doesn’t count! Pool shrinkage is real.”
Mary Kate grins, suddenly emboldened. “Stella, you’re insanely beautiful and tons of guys salivate after your curvy bod. You could literally fuck anyone. But are you saying you’re still a virgin?”
The pretty blonde blushes, biting her lip. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe I’m just picky,” she muses. “Or maybe I’m waiting for a professor with a Bond villain jawline and a cocksure attitude.”
I shake my head, grinning. “We’re such losers.”
There’s a moment, and then Kayleigh gets “That Look”—the one that means something unhinged is about to happen. “What if we make it a contest?”
I raise an eyebrow. “A contest?”
She sits up, practically vibrating with the energy of her own idea. “Yes. First one to lose her v-card wins.”
Mary Kate squeals, covering her face. Stella looks both scandalized and interested. I feel something sharp and bright twist in my chest—a combination of terror and exhilaration.
“Wins what?” Stella asks, practical as always.
Kayleigh’s eyes go flinty with challenge. “I don’t know. Money. Clout. Whatever.”
I lean into it, the idea sparking something predatory inside me. “We each put in, say, two hundred and fifty dollars into a pot. Winner takes all.”
Kayleigh nods, hair bouncing. “I’m in.”
Stella chews her lip, then shrugs. “I guess? If it’s just us…”
Mary Kate bites her knuckle, eyes shining. “I don’t know, you guys. What if someone lies?”
“Proof,” Kayleigh says, all business. “We need proof.”
We all look at her, waiting.
She considers, then shrugs. “Screenshot of the big event. Video, if you’re really feeling yourself.”
Stella squeals, fake-offended. “Oh my god, I’m not making a porno, Kayleigh!”
Kayleigh’s grin is all teeth. “You don’t have to! But think of the prize. Winner gets a thousand bucks and bragging rights for life.”
I’m not sure if it’s the soda residue on my tongue or just the adrenaline, but the idea tastes dangerous and sweet. I look at Stella, who’s already calculating odds; Mary Kate, whose hands are trembling; Kayleigh, burning with the thrill of the chase.
I want to win. I want it more than I can say.
I say, “Deal.”
Kayleigh claps her hands. “Swear on it?”
“No, no, no!” Mary Kate squeals, her cheeks pink. “You guys are so insane!”
I roll my eyes.
“It’s not that insane, girlfriend. I mean, we’re co-eds. It’s time we got some action. Are you in?”
Ashleigh and Stella nod. Mary Kate stares, mouth agape. Finally, she nods as well.
“Okay you got me,” she grumbles.
Then, we extend our arms, four hands in the middle, stacked over a soft pink comforter.
Kayleigh looks at me, devil in her eyes. “Let’s do this.”
I squeeze their hands. “Fuck yes. I’m going to win this thing.”
We squeeze each other’s hands, giggling “Deal,” and with that, the pact is sealed with a round of cheap boxed wine in plastic cups, a literal blood oath minus the blood. We toast to “girl power” and “deflowerment” and “may the best bitch win.”
It’s only later, when everyone’s gone and the room smells like sweat and sugar and secrets, that I realize how badly I want to win the virginity contest. Not the money, not even the bragging rights.
I want to feel something big and terrifying inside my pussy, something I can’t walk back from.
My thighs squeeze together in anticipation as I think back to the whitezilla porn.
Oh my god, could I handle that? But what if the man I find is small in size? Would he even count?
I roll over and stare at my phone, scrolling through pictures of a boy I sort-of know named Jake Namors.
He’s the only guy who looks hotter in real life than in his Insta stories—tall, built, hockey player, and the lazy arrogance of someone who’s never doubted himself for a single second.
He’s an athletic, muscled jock, who’s at least six four, and surely packing beneath all the hockey padding.
I want him to be the one.
I want to find out if the rumors are true, if he’s really “built like a draft horse,” as Kayleigh once put it after seeing him in a Speedo at the rec center.
I want to know if I can handle it, if I can take that massive size into my sweetest spot.
But honestly? Jake and I are just acquaintances.
That boy has at least ten women pining for his attention, and just the other day, I saw Jessie MacNamara literally push Jordan Knoll out of the way so that she could sit next to Jake in class.
Still, it’s a world full of possibility. I might have to beat off the Jessies and Jordans of the world, but maybe, just maybe, I can get his attention.
I put my phone down and stare at the ceiling. The pact burns in my head, the taste of possibility and Cheetos still sharp on my tongue.
I wonder what it will feel like to finally do it—to win, to lose, to surrender something you can never take back. I wonder who I’ll be on the other side.
Maybe, if I’m lucky, a girl who comes out with a smile and a wobble to her walk, her womanhood cemented for real.