We were on the phone. She was in the city; me in the suburbs. I sat on the couch in utter boredom on an average summer day while my dad watched some television show like usual and my brother and his girlfriend made out in the other room. No one from school had spoken to me since sophomore had terminated, like as soon as school let out I became some kind of social leper once more. the summer reminded me, as always, that I was an outsider. I had always been different than my friends, more mature and serious yet completely innocent. Even my best friend, who seemed like the one person I could truly speak with, I seemed to no longer understand. It was a beautiful summer evening and the sun was sending a cluster of magnificent, golden rays through our big bay window. It was that perfect season when days were stretched a mile long and nights seemed to take a vacation. "So, do you want to come?" My best friend asked already knowing my answer. I grinned wildly as I imagined my first high school party. It seemed like some kind of dream, like one of those teen movies from the nineties where everything is just romantic and fantastic. Of course I would go to her friend's Fourth of July pool party with her. This would finally be my chance to get to know her new friends in the city. Since she moved there last autumn we had barely hung out as both of our schedules seemed to be jam-packed; hers with days spent going to movies with boys and to the mall with girlfriends, mine with sports, clubs, and volunteering.

I had only met one of my best friend's new friends before, when I went to a choral concert with her at her school in the spring. They sang a barrage of songs from Grease, you know, the ones that were lame and girly but that I secretly loved. So, we sang along like complete idiots and then walked home with her friend and her friend's boyfriend. It was a chilly spring night and the four off us headed toward the ice cream shop a few blocks away. We had worn skimpy sun dresses with our hair up in intricate braids and make up covering our insecurities. I walked barefoot along the grungy urban sidewalks while a girl I barely knew had on my favorite sneakers. My best friend's friend had been wearing heels the entire night, so I naively offered to lend her my shoes for the walk. Unfortunately for me, her heels were too small for my abnormally humongous feet. You would think since I was five foot five my feet would be an average size but instead I was granted clown feet, like there had been some kind of mistake in my DNA. But whatever, my feet could always second as skis. While we walked down the outskirts of the city, the street lamps illuminated the way like some kind of urban excuse for stars. I know it may have come out a little begrudgingly, but it really was beautiful in its own unmistakably unique way. During the walk, her friend spoke in unbelievable openness about her sex life, a topic which seemed completely foreign to me. She shared eagerly her adventures in bondage and her boyfriends biting fetish all while he, a freshman no less, walked right next to us silently. And while I wondered if the conversation would ever end, my best friend seemed enthralled, even comfortable with the topic. For the first time, it became apparent to me how much she changed since she moved. She had grown up and left her innocence back in our simple, quaint suburbia. But, wait, it wasn't our suburbia anymore, it was just mine. I was suddenly alone in that quiet, generic town, or maybe I had always been and just never realized it before. That night, my best friend and I lied on our stomachs side by side on her bed and she spoke enthusiastically about her new life. We had to have only been a few inches apart and yet it felt like countries.

Her and her grandmother picked me up from the train station the morning of Fourth of July. In my bag were possibly ten whole outfits for just an overnight stay. We went back to her house and picked out cute summer clothes and did our hair and make up not even caring that it was sure to get ruined while swimming. We left the house in jean shorts and loose fitting tank tops over our bikinis. For the first time that summer I actually had something to cover; between my freshman year and that summer I had transformed from flat and lanky to a girl with c-cup boobs, curves, and four inches of new height. I had always been a pretty girl, people would always comment on it, even complete strangers, but for the first time people began looking at me differently. I no longer was just a pretty girl, I had become a woman. I was nearly sixteen but my new body made me appear nineteen. It was not just nice strangers commenting on it anymore, but while rollerblading down the streets of my town guys would whistle at me, and call after me, and some would just stare at me like I was inhuman, like I was flawless.

Her grandmother drove us to the party with another of my best friend's friends. It was a small blue house with a wild, uncut front lawn and a gated backyard. My best friend led us to the gate, "Hey? Where are you guys?" A shirtless boy wearing two gold chains opened the gate for us. "Hey." He said casually as we walked in to the backyard. The pool was smaller than I imagined, the whole yard was dull and lifeless. At a patio table sat another guy, this one chubby with hair that was originally dyed blue but now was just faded and gross. That was it, just two guys and a bag of chips. I tried to hide my disappointment as we put down our bags and jumped into the freezing water.

As time past, two more guys arrived and as a breeze came upon us, we exited the pool. Shivering, we wrapped towels tightly around ourselves and tried to dry off in the bright July sun. Someone suggested the brilliant idea of playing truth or dare and everyone eagerly agreed. And that's when
the unexpected happened; another guy arrived. This guy wore a blue t-shirt and swim trunks and rode over to the party on his twin sister's bike. His hair was dark like cocoa and he was lean and muscular. He had one of those boyish faces that make girls want to swoon and yet there was experience in his eyes. He stared at me with a warm smile on his face as he came in. He was the twin brother of my best friend's friend that came with us. While we played truth or dare I could feel his gaze as if he was memorizing me like a piece of art. And when it was his turn to choose someone, he chose me. "Truth or dare?" He asked with a mischievous grin painted across his face. Truth or dare? I swallowed hard, "dare". He thought for a moment and his eyes flitted across the group. "Jump into the pool." It was that simple. I let out a sigh of relief. I had seen my best friend flash everyone and one guy lick another's foot. All I had to do was jump into the pool. "Okay." I said, took off my shirt and shorts, climbed the ladder, and dove into the frigid water. He jumped in after me and when he resurfaced he had that same wild grin upon his face. He splashed me playfully and I splashed him back and soon everyone was in the pool splashing each other like maniacs and laughing wildly.

After that we were all pretty cold and the sun began to set in a splatter of oranges and reds. We dried ourselves off and went into the dark, dingy basement. The basement was colder than outside but no one mentioned it as one of the guys grabbed an empty milk jug for spin the bottle. We sat on the floor in a misshapen circle and waited for someone to begin. My best friend shut her eyes and spun first. It landed on me and she leaned over and kissed my cheek. The crowd was disappointed by the lack of awkwardness and booed half expecting us to lean in again and French kiss. Now it was my turn to spin and I grab the jug and hold my breath. I spin the jug and worry fills my head. I have never kissed a boy. Not even once in my whole entire boring life. I can't; whoever it is is going to have to accept a kiss on the cheek. It lands on the Italian guy who's house we are in. We both lean in and he tries to kiss me on the lips but at the last moment I turn and land a peck on his cheek. It feels awkward and flat, like when I would kiss my grandmother on the cheek but I was glad not to kiss him on the lips. Then someone said we should play seven minutes in heaven and everyone exclaimed about how that was such a wonderful idea. I kept my mouth shut and just sat there in my bikini and shorts, sweating in the frigid basement.

They told my best friend to pick the first pair. She knew I liked him and how I had never met a decent boy in my life. She saw the way I stared at him that day and how deep down I really wanted to go in that room with him, even if I wasn't ready. The group chatted amongst themselves while my best friend thought of a pairing. But she was not thinking any longer, in fact she had chosen the pair of us minutes before she was asked to do so. She was a good friend, maybe a little ditzy, but good hearted nonetheless. She wanted me to be happy like she was in this new life. "Cara and Will". The both of us stood up and we were led to the bathroom where the door was shut behind us. My heart was beating like a drum in my chest. I wondered I'm he could tell how afraid I was of him. My back rested against the door and I looked to my feet. "So, what's your name again?" He asked casually. It was laughable how awkward this all was, and yet I didn't laugh, instead I just said, "Cara, my name's Cara." This guy didn't even know my name. Suddenly it wasn't as glamorous as I had at first seen it. My eyes shed that doe-eyed lens and opened for the first time that day. I was in a stranger's bathroom with some hungover guy trying to seduce me. I wanted so badly to be a part of this new life. I wanted to have a boyfriend to kiss and love like any normal teenage girl, but that was the thing, I wasn't normal. I tried so hard to be someone I could never be. I tried so hard to fit into my best friend's new life that I didn't realize I was losing myself in the process.

What was I doing here? "So, we're here... Why don't we get those seven minutes of heaven?"
He said it casually, as if this was an everyday occurrence to him. His arms wrapped around my waist before I could even give an answer. I shivered when he touched me and stared at his t-shirt. I couldn't look into his eyes, I couldn't do this. It wasn't what I wanted. "No. No I can't." I blurt out. "No, no." I continue to stammer as his hands pull away and land at his sides. He looks irritated, maybe deep down he is even embarrassed. I want to apologize to him like I do when I knock in to someone or say the incorrect score during a tennis match. I try to find my voice but all there is is just this terrible silence. It's like this sound proof glass has come up between the two of us. I feel childish and silly. I wrap my arms around myself when suddenly there's a knock at the door and time is up. We leave the room and head back to the circle of judgmental eyes. It's as if "prude" is written across my forehead; as soon as they see me they turn away with a look of disapproval on their faces.

The night rolls on, slow and monotonous. All I want to do is go home. I'm not like these people. I'm not easy or carefree or casual. I feel like a stranger looking in on this party, studying it like some kind of anthropologist or something. Maybe that's just who I am, an intruder, a foreigner. I'm the girl who sits in the library during her lunch hour because it is too painful to eat alone. I'm the girl who dreams while everyone else does. I'm the girl in the corner of the room trying to not draw attention to herself. In this new world I'm an outsider.