The first time I had sex, it was not with a lover.
In fact, I was not even at home. I was in Barcelona with a family friend, George. Because it is a city that never sleeps and the way you're blinded by it's beautiful lights, this city remains my favourite. I can still remember the thrill of walking down the streets at night. It was full of merchants and because of that it was noisy. The street food was probably the most exciting thing. As soon as I stepped out of my hotel, I could see the different tapas carts. I preferred the gambas al ajillo; George liked the calamars.
It was my eighteenth birthday and my parents had allowed me to travel as an adult outside my home country, but only if George agreed to come with me. He quickly agreed. He was my best friend and despite the age gap of eleven years, we were close. He saw me grow and turn from a girl into a young woman.
At the tender age of eighteen, I was not ugly but I was not pretty either. At least, I did not feel like it. It was not that I lacked confidence but, it was just that I never gained the attention that I hoped for. I remember feeling like I was unattractive when I walked around in the city. The other girls had curves in all the right places and when I looked at them, I recall feeling attracted to them. George, on the other hand could be compared to a good wine - The older he became, the finer he got. With broad shoulders and a jawline that you could grate cheese on, he did make heads turn.
It all happened on the day after my birthday. We were at some sort of club and we had already enjoyed some drinks. He had a few glasses of whiskey and, on his suggestion, I had some vodka mixed with Red Bull. It's still my favourite drink.
Oddly, it was not my first time drinking. He was the one who introduced me, during my sixteenth birthday, to whiskey. I enjoyed it but that night; I did not want to feel posh or fancy. I wanted to feel the buzz of the alcohol. After a couple of cocktails, we were still sitting at the bar and despite a few girls approaching him, George did not pay them any attention. It seemed that he wanted to focus on me. I assumed he wanted to protect me.
"You know, you can go have fun." I said.
"And leave you all alone while I satisfy those girls?"
"I won't be alone. In fact, I don't plan on going to our hotel tonight."
He raised his eyebrows, "Emma, are you telling me that you plan on losing your virginity here? With someone you barely know?"
I laughed, "What's the big deal about it? Don't tell me you knew Samantha's favourite colour when you snuck her into your room and fucked her."
Samantha was the one who took George virginity, at the youthful age of fifteen. I tend to believe that she was the person who moulded George's preferences in girls; tall brunettes.
Despite me finding what I had said being funny, he did not.
"It is very far from pleasant to hear this from you. You need to do it with someone you trust and who will respect you, Emma. Not some man you've just met in a bar. Don't you want something special, something that will be pleasant to recall? "
While what he said did make sense, it was completely unfair. At that epoch, I did not have any male friends. My school days were spent among girls in a Catholic school and the only males I knew were younger than me; I was their tutor.
"That's not fair. You know you're the only guy friend I have, G."
"Tough luck then. Make some friends, nerd."
He was wrong and I was stubborn. I had come to Barcelona to lose my virginity. I was not going to back down that easily. As we continued to sip our drinks, I continued to think about my mission. Then, I started joining the dots.
