A YOUNG GIRL’S STORY
Riding In Cars with Boys
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
On a sunny Sunday afternoon with relatives visiting my parents, and Kathleen away at a church function, Dorothy and I prepared for a bike ride to town.
We were on our bikes ready to go when she said, “Wait a minute.” She hopped off her bike. Rushed back into the house, and came out breathless, said, “I almost forgot this.” Showing me the condom in her hand.
Since we’d first started going to town, she kept a supply of condoms on hand, buying them while out shopping with our family in Bridgewater on Saturday afternoons. “Your mother would kill me,” Dorothy said, “if I ever got pregnant.”
Although I cared about Dorothy, at seventeen I was still too afraid of having sex again, and I envied her the ease of doing it.
Off we peddled, free, our long dark hair blowing behind us in the wind.
We rode hard and fast, not wasting a minute. The quicker there. The more time for fun.
We arrived in town, breathless, got off our bikes, and crossed Main Street, up Kinburn Street by the pharmacy, heading toward the park, where we hoped to find the guys.
A car horn sounded behind us, startling me. I assumed it was an impatient driver wanting us out of the way. Dorothy and I moved closer to the sidewalk, allowing lots of room for the car to pass.
Instead of going by, the car tooted its horn with quick, light rapid beeps and pulled up beside us. I turned and glared at the guy with his head out the car window, asking, “Want a ride?”
I noticed two other guys in the car, tried to figure out if I knew them.
“Already got a ride.” I pointed to my bike. I turned and walked away, but Dorothy didn’t join me. Impatient, I turned and waved for her to follow me.
“Wait,” she said, motioning toward the guys in the car, her eyes pleading for me to stop.
I walked back to her. She leaned over and whispered, “Why not talk to them awhile?”
God! Did I need to explain everything? “Because,” I said through gritted teeth, “we don’t know them.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the guys watching us.
“He’s so good looking.” She pouted, eyes still pleading.
I sighed, frustrated that for someone much older than me, someone soon thirty, she didn’t have more sense when it came to these things.
“They’re probably a bunch of jerks,” I said loud enough for them to hear.
“Oh…” one of the guys said, smirking. “That’s not very nice.”
“Who cares?” I said, making a face. I didn’t know them and didn’t want to know them.
“Whoa.” The guy’s grin widened. He glanced at the other guys. Back at me, said, “For a sweet young thing, you’re some mean.”
“Yeah, Barbara.” Dorothy poked me. “Don’t be so mean.”
“Yeah, we just met,” the guy leaning out the window said. “Why not come for a drive? Get to know us better?”
My eyebrows raised, but to my surprise, Dorothy didn’t hesitate. She wheeled her bike over and leaned it against the side of the pharmacy. I remained stunned, like this was some kind of dream. What was she was thinking?
“Come on,” she waved to me. “Don’t be a party pooper.” The guy in the passenger seat opened the car door. Pulled his seat forward so Dorothy could squeeze in behind him. I recognized the guy in the back as Keith Sullivan, the older brother of a girl in my class, remembering how often she spoke of her cool older brother. And here I was thinking of getting in the backseat with this cool older brother.
I had to admit, I liked his blond hair and how it hung off to one side, often falling down over his eye, prodding him to flick it out of the way. Debbie would be so jealous knowing I was this close to one of the older cool guys from school, guys in a different circle than we hung out with.
Keith wasn’t one of the long-haired dropouts in the park. Or a guy headed in that direction. He was one of the clean-cut guys — every girl’s supposed dream, like the image of a prince from the fairy tales of my childhood, like Will. Keith reminding me of Will brought up unpleasant memories. Memories I didn’t want. At least I could trust the long-haired guys in the park. They didn’t pretend they were something they were not.
Still… something about Keith made my heart flutter. Made me like being next to him.
The mouthy guy in the passenger seat I also soon recognized. He’d graduated the year before. His mother worked at Bill’s Store in town. The driver was an older brother of another girl in school. She was older, and we didn’t really know each other. I scrambled to remember his name, but before I could recall it, he said, “I’m David.”
Since it wasn’t a car filled with strangers, like I’d first thought, I felt a little more at ease as crawled over Dorothy to sit next to Keith.
Dorothy didn’t stop talking. “Wow! This is a nice car. I’ve never been in the backseat of a two-door car before. You guys from around here? How come I haven’t seen you in town before…?”
Before they answered one question, she’d already moved on to another one. David made a sharp U-turn, tires squealing, and roared back through the intersection, the car heading out of town. I wondered where we were going.
Squished in the back on every turn, our bodies leaned into each other’s. I liked it when I pressed up against Keith.
David passed back a pint bottle. Keith took a swig and passed it to me. I took a small sip. Made a face. The whiskey burned all the way down my throat into my stomach. I coughed, and the guys snickered. Dorothy drank like a pro. I swallowed hard, hating it when she put me to shame. Could she do everything right?
After passing by the three churches, past the Oakland Road on the right, from where we’d earlier biked, we sped up the hill, around a sharp turn, leaving the town behind. I became a bit nervous about what the guys had in mind. Dorothy seemed unconcerned.
Keith offered me a cigarette. I slid one from the pack. He flicked his Bic lighter, and I leaned in for a light, trying to remain as steady as possible while we swayed with the motion of the car. I got my cigarette lit and sat back; my shoulder pressed tightly against his. “Thanks.” I turned and smiled at him.
He smiled back. “You’re welcome.” Our eyes locked, and I felt he liked me.
He reached over in front of me and offered Dorothy a cigarette. I inhaled his recently shampooed hair. She accepted. I turned and faced her, rolling my eyes to signal that she should keep her hands off of him.
The car slowed. David turned off the paved road, onto a narrow logging road. Trees brushed against the car. The path was so bumpy that several times we bounced high enough to hit our heads on the roof of the car. We went far into the woods where we wouldn’t be seen. We sat in the car talking and passing the bottle of whiskey back and forth.
“I got to stretch my legs,” Dorothy said. Tim, in the passenger seat, got out. Moved the seat forward to let Dorothy out. He headed to the bushes and stood with his back toward us, taking a piss. Dorothy squeezed out and stood beside the open car door, finishing her cigarette. David also got out and urinated against a tree. Tim came back. Brushed up against Dorothy when he got back in the passenger seat. Dorothy turned and leaned in to talk to him.
I stayed seated in the back with Keith. To my surprise, he made a move quickly, leaning over and kissing me. I willingly kissed him back. His hand slid to my breasts and my hand went between his legs, gliding over the bulge in his pants. He moaned with pleasure.
Keith and I ignored what the others were doing. Then the car started rocking, making me wonder what was going on.
I turned my head to the side and glanced up front to find Dorothy on Tim’s lap in the passenger seat, straddling him, face-to-face — her jeans off, her legs bare. I could not believe it.
Once over the initial shock, I said, “I’m not watching this.” I covered my eyes. How could she have sex in front of everyone? How could she not care?
Keith took my hands away from my face and pulled me toward him. “Never mind her.”
We kissed again, and I stopped thinking about Dorothy.
Part of me was still unable to believe I was actually in the backseat with someone like Keith. I couldn’t wait to tell Debbie Monday morning at school. She’d squeal with delight.
While all these thoughts ran through my mind, Keith unzipped his jeans and guided my hand down inside his pants. My fingers gripped his penis. His hand went up under my T-shirt.
After Tim and Dorothy finished up in the front seat, he threw the used condom out the side.
Dorothy stepped out of the car, wiped herself with tissues, and pulled up her pants. She got back in. The driver, who’d been standing outside, got back in.
We drove off, passing the bottle from one to the other while we headed back to town.
They stopped and dropped us off where they’d first picked us up.
Dorothy glanced at her watch. “We better get going home, and fast.”
We hopped on our bikes, peddled home.
Visitors were still at our house, enabling us to slip back inside without a scene. Dorothy stuck a couple sticks of Wrigley’s Doublemint chewing gum in her mouth, chomping away on it while she set the supper table. Both of us acting like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
