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I just barely got out of my school dance and let me tell you, was it interesting. Now prior to this dance, I went to dances to hang out, check out my crush, possibly join in the group dances, and finally leave bummed out considering how my time would be better spent watching Hillary Duff or some other bad actress for the two or three hours I just wasted, but this time was not the case. I came in and I ran into a group of my best friends, people who usually blow off these dances. That was cool, until a group of –ahem- questionable people come up and steal me from the group. I’m a relatively clean kid- no drugs, sex only once with a steady girlfriend, good grades, the usual. These people were all in black, eyeliner, two were stoned, two lesbians- nothing against them- you know the type. Next thing you know, I’m grinding in a line of at least ten Goths and getting sweaty. One girl- no clue what her name was- seemed pretty attracted to me (She seemed the lesser of the extreme- I played along) and soon was grinding with me and loving it. I started jumping around groups, hanging with the drama kids, the cool kids, the geeks, etc.- but every time I would get dragged back to this group for more hardcore grinding. I managed to get away and was grooving with a group of friends when one girl comes over to me and says, “Are you a virgin?” I respond no. She leaves. A few minutes later, she comes back. (Hey, Maverick, ____’s horny. Can you fuck her?” NEWS FLASH: :Last time I had sex with a girl (a) she was a virgin, so minimal risk of STD’s, (b) She and I had been dating six months, so we knew each other well, (c) We used protection, protection which I didn’t have on me at the time, and (d) I actually knew her name. What do you think my answer would be? I said “Sorry, no.” She grabs me by the collar and drags me to the group. “____,” she says. (I use ‘___” since as I write this I don’t remember the girl’s name.) “Maverick won’t fuck you.” “Oh, come on” she says, and jumps on top of me. I choose that moment to wriggle free and escape. I grab the phone, dial home, and call for a ride. My mom (God bless the woman) gets into her car, no questions asked, and drives over to pull me out of there. As I’m leaving, I see the girl and her partner heading into the principal’s office, looking downtrodden and inexplicably guilty. I’d feel sorry for them, any other day. Now to sum this up, I’m not an isolationist, I simply do not like the prospect of screwing with a possible chemistry set. The dance was fun- I’m exhausted- but it’s an experience I’ll debate a bit heavier over next time.
""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
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