4. SUBJECT: DATING HISTORY

CW: mentions of sexual content in this chapter, non-graphic

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Texts sent January 28, 2017 at 11:33am

Peter Moore: What were you talking to Aish about last night?

Weston Maguire:  You, obviously.

Weston Maguire: She wanted to make sure everything was alright. She's worried about you, I think.

Weston Maguire: I liked Aisha.

Peter Moore: She's a great girl. Did you tell her I'm okay?

Weston Maguire: Are you okay? You don't seem okay.

. . .

to: weston.maguire@baderu.com

from: cassandra.belford@baderu.com

subject: Dating history

sent: January 28, 2017 at 12:02pm

Weston,

Hope you're doing well. Can you tell me about girls?

Cassie

. . .

to: cassandra.belford@baderu.com

from: weston.maguire@baderu.com

subject: Re:Dating history

sent: January 30, 2017 at 10:08pm

Hi Cass,

Hm. Okay, sure. I have to say, I'm at a loss of where to start. I've had three girlfriends, I guess. Or two and a half, maybe. I guess that's a good place to start.

The last girl I dated was Rachel Turner. You probably knew her, seems like everyone knew her. She was the president of the Science Undergraduate Government two years ago. Rach was a year older than me, and a lot smarter. We dated for about six months in my second year, but she graduated early and went to med school out west.

Rachel was pretty. Not like you, but in a really approachable way. She had blonde hair and brown eyes that would crinkle when she smiled. She never had much free time; school and everything kept her busy, but she was good company. She laughed whenever I tried to be funny and we would text throughout the day. She's the one who got me writing for The Journal.

I liked her a lot, but we both knew when she graduated that we wouldn't stay together. It was fun dating her though.

Before Rachel, I dated a girl in high school. She was the girl that guys thought about, if that makes sense. She was hot, and she knew she was hot. But it was the kind of hot that we all know won't last, so everyone wants to make the most of it. In all honesty, she wasn't the nicest girl. That didn't stop people from thinking about sleeping with her, and it didn't stop me from actually doing it.

There was something wild about her. She had filthy rich parents, so she had an unreal BMW (which she drove like a maniac) and threw massive parties whenever she had her house to herself. She was an only child and her parents traveled a lot. When she was a kid it bothered her, but she was used to it by the time I started hanging out with her.

She dumped me after a few months to date a guy from another school. I didn't take it too hard.

She'd started smoking and kissing her was a lot less fun.

I didn't like her as much as I ended up liking Rach, but she was fun and she told really dirty jokes that got people laughing. That was my first real girlfriend.

The summer before I dated her, I worked at an overnight summer camp up north. I helped out with the athletics program and in the kitchen during meals. Most of the people working there were high school and college students.

I was sixteen and always horny as fuck. Sorry, but that's the truth about most 16 year old boys.

Marley, who also worked there, was never my girlfriend. Not technically. But she was important to me in a lot of ways. I liked her, and if I'm gonna tell you about girls, I have to tell you about Marley.

She was my age, and tall. At the time, she was almost as tall as me. She was athletic, a crazy good soccer player and fast runner. She sunburned easily and had long hair that was full of tangles.

Halfway through the summer we were sitting by the lake playing cards with some of the other counsellors, and Marley was begging someone to jump in the water with her.

"It's too hot," she told us.

She was right.

Most of the kids were swimming on the other side of the pier where the lifeguards were working, and we had a few hours free outside in the afternoon.

I stood up and yanked the back of my t-shirt over my head, leaving me in my trunks. "Okay fine," I said, pretending to be hugely inconvenienced. "I'll go for a swim."

She leaped up, eager to get in the water. Without hesitation, she pulled off her shorts and took off running to the pier. She jumped in, hair streaming behind her and I followed.

The water was cold, but she didn't seem to notice. We swam around, me lazily and her determined. I found myself admiring how good she looked and wondering what it'd be like to kiss her.

"What?" She asked, raising her eyebrows, confused by my staring. "Do I have lake scum in my hair or something?"

I shook my head. "Nah. Um, so are you liking Tellswood?" Tellswood was the name of the camp we worked at.

"What's not to like?" She asked, taking a break and hanging onto the ladder.

I could tell she was flirting a little. I mean, as much as sixteen year olds can flirt. "Don't you miss being home?"

"No, I like it way better at camp. I'd be happy to stay here forever."

I got confident. "What about your parents and friends? And your boyfriend. He must miss you." At 22 years old, I can admit that this was obvious and kinda pathetic. But at the time, I thought I was pretty slick.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah whatever. You know I don't have a boyfriend." I did now.

"I find that shocking," I said and rolled to float on my back.

She snorted. "Oh really?"

I continued to tease her, trying to make her laugh. At one point I told her that I thought she was the coolest girl who worked there. She was, too.

She blushed, making the sunburn on her shoulders blend into her neck and face. She regained herself quickly. "What are you saying Maguire?" She almost always called me by my last name. "Are you coming onto me?" Coming onto her. Marley was cute like that.

I shrugged. "Maybe." I moved closer to her, trying to gauge what she was thinking. We each had one hand on the decaying wood of the pier, and the space between us started to close as I leaned into her.

She let her other hand come to rest on my arm near my shoulder and I kissed her. It wasn't my first kiss, but it was the best one I'd had until that point in my life. She let go of the pier and wrapped herself around me. It was good we were in the water, because otherwise, I don't think I could have held her up for as long as I did. I was pretty scrawny at 16.

I didn't know how experienced Marley was. We hadn't really talked about that sort of stuff. She'd mentioned she dated someone when she started high school, but I had no clue if she was a virgin.

I was.

We got to second base in the lake, but after about fifteen minutes of making out, a lifeguard told us we needed to get to the kitchens to start prepping food.

Marley giggled and asked me if I could meet her later.

"Definitely," I said. I was pretty riled up.

She told me to meet her by the treehouse that night.

The treehouse was not in a tree, and it wasn't a house. It was just a wooden shack that had wicker couches and patio furniture with some board games. I stared at the duffle bag on my bunk, thinking about the sleeve of condoms I had in there. My mom (yes, my mom) had given them to me before I left for camp, telling me that she hoped I would be smart and responsible.

"Now, I don't think you should be having sex. You're young, and not quite mature enough for this kind of responsibility. But if it should, happen, I want you to be prepared. Communicate with them, whether it's sometime this summer or on your wedding night, your partner should never ever feel any pressure. Neither should you. Sex is about expression and you need to be comfortable to be expressive."

I'd nodded quickly, wanting the conversation to be over.

"I will be very unhappy if you are anything less than respectful and kind to someone in intimacy." That's how my mom talks.

I confirmed that I'd be a perfect gentleman in the unlikely event I used the condoms, but I doubted it was something I needed to worry about anytime soon. I was pretty convinced I'd die a virgin (what can I say, I was sixteen and all I ever thought about was sex.)

I was trying to figure out if showing up with a sleeve of condoms would be considered any kind of pressure. But then, what if we needed it and I had to run back to the cabin with my dick poking through my shorts?

I grabbed two and stuffed them inside an empty packet of gum. Feeling satisfied with the contraception's disguise, I went to meet Marley.

She was there when I showed up, wearing a skirt and a light blue t-shirt. She looked a lot more nervous than I felt, which made me rethink the 'gum' sitting in my back pocket.

I asked her to tell me about her friends from home, hoping she'd relax and maybe let me kiss her again. We talked, and thumb wrestled and eventually she leaned in and gave me a peck on the lips.

Things escalated, and we were both breathing hard. It was crazy hot outside, even at night.

"I haven't had sex before," she blurted out.

I shrugged, wondering if the truth would help or hurt the situation. "Me neither."

"Do you want to though?" she asked. She sat up and looked at me straight on.

"Well, yeah," I said honestly. Then I quickly added, "But only if you do."

That was the right thing to say I think, because she nodded, and smile looking less wound up.

It took a few tries for me to get the damn thing on, and a lot of patience on her part once We got started. But that night we were able to successfully violate the sixth rule of Camp Tellswood staff. I don't want to get into the dirty details, partially out of respect for Marley, but also because I was a disaster and it lasted all of 15 seconds. She and I continued to hang out for the rest of that summer, we fooled around a few more times, but we only had sex that one time.

I didn't tell anyone (except for Peter) about her when I went back home in September. It's not like I wasn't psyched. I was. But I didn't think people would believe me. Plenty of guys told stories about girls they met at camp, and I didn't believe any of my friends who told them.

When I think about Marley, and I don't very often, I think about how warm she was. Everything about her was open and friendly and... happy.

I know I'm probably remembering her as being better than she was in reality, but she was honestly the first girl I really liked and wanted to spend time with. Sometimes I wonder if she ended up regretting what happened. In hindsight, it was pretty impulsive. But I like to think that she looks back at that summer without regret.

She and I emailed and talked on the phone a bit after camp, but we got busy with our own lives and lost touch.

We're friends on Facebook, though. She's going to be a nurse, and she plays soccer at Penn State.

I know that I wasn't in love with Marley. But I think that under different circumstances we might have been something. Maybe that's idealistic, but whatever.

Anyway, that's what I have to say. Jesus, I hope this is what you had in mind.

Thanks,

Wes