Of Girls and Printers — A Short Story

Definitely not the first girlfriend experience he was hoping for…

Jed Villejo, Unsplash

Warnings: strong language, butt-clenching embarrassment

File. Print.

Nothing.

I look back over my shoulder. The coast is still clear, come on.

File. Print.

I drum my fingers on the desk. Come on.

File. Print.

I stare at the image on the screen. The top search result of “Girl with Big Boobs.” And boy, does it deliver. I look back over my shoulder. Why won’t the printer just print?! I don’t want to risk my whole fucking life by looking it up on the family computer the next time I want to look at it.

File. Print.

File. Print.

File. Print.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

I grit my teeth and smash the mouse as I click again.

File.

Print.

A sharp sound jolts me. The telephone lights up in the kitchen, screaming for attention.

“Tyler, will you get that?” Mom shouts from upstairs somewhere. I fumble with the mouse to close the window, shut off the computer, and race to the kitchen to get the damn thing to shut up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is Tyler there?”

Woah, it’s a girl! A girl is calling me!

I clear my throat and dip my voice a little lower, just to sound like the man she might be looking for. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“This is Charity. From school?”

Charity, Charity… I don’t know a single Charity. Sweat starts to prickle in my armpits, but I play it cool.

“Oh yeah, I remember you. What’s up?”

“Well, I just…” I hear her breath on the other end of the line. Light and hesitant. “I just… think you’re kinda cute and want to know if you want to… Um, like, if you want to…. Be my boyfriend.”

She spit those last three words out so quickly, I wasn’t sure if I’d heard her right. Did she really ask me that? I think so.

Damn, am I really getting a girlfriend right now?

Shit, am I really getting a girlfriend right now? Mom can’t find out. She gets crazy about that kind of thing.

I take a breath. I can do this. It’s fine. It’s chill. I can’t seriously be stupid enough to turn down the first girl who’s asked me to be her boyfriend.

I clear my throat again. “Sure. Yeah.”

“Cool,” I can hear the smile on her lips. “Well… A bunch of people are coming over to my house tonight for a pool party, if you want to come.”

“Oh yeah, I mean, I’m super busy tonight with… stuff. But maybe. Yeah, maybe I can come by.”

“Cool,” she says lightly. “See you soon. Maybe.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Ok… bye.”

I click the red button and place the phone back on the dock, gently, as if by putting it down too quickly, it will jolt me into a version of the universe where that didn’t just happen. A little laugh escapes me and I run my hands through my hair. It happened. It finally happened. A girl asked me out! I don’t know who the fuck Charity is, but she knows who I am! And she sounded pretty. She probably looks pretty too. Is getting a girlfriend always this easy?

My hands clench my head.

She invited me to a pool party at her house. Shit. I don’t even know where she lives! If I call back and ask, I’ll look like an idiot!

Maybe David knows. I’ll see if he can come with me. We can-

“Who was that, honey?” Mom turns the corner and heads to the kitchen sink. Shit, how much of that did she hear?

“Oh, uh… It was David. He wanted to know if I could go skating with him tonight.”

“It’s a school night, honey,” she says as she starts scrubbing the dishes and piling them into the dishwasher. “Is your homework all done?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Mom, I have straight A’s. Yes, I’m sure my homework is all done.”

I see her shoulders deflate a little. This is a good sign for me.

“Alright, be back by nine. And remember to be good.”

I’m flying hot by the time I get to my bedroom. How does a dude get ready to meet up with a girl?

AXE body spray.

I hold down the button and drench myself in it. My hair, my neck, my pits, my stomach, my dick, my butt, my feet. Then I go over myself one more time for good measure. Gotta smell good for my new girlfriend. I slip on my Billabong board shorts and my Miss May I band tee with a giant shark on it. I pop a couple zits then check my hair swoop game in the mirror, getting the suave look just right. Then I remember: pool party! I drop to the floor and do as many crunches as I can. Thirty-two. Then flip over and do as many push-ups as I can. Twelve. Then I break a bit of a sweat, so I do another round of AXE body spray.

Perfect.

I’m ready to meet my girlfriend.

____________

“Okay, man. Which one’s Charity?” I ask David. Water sprays from the pool as people jump in, or slip down the two-story slide. Shouts and laughs and conversation fill the air, mixing with “Get Low” booming off the speakers. It’s like our whole middle school is here and then some. It’s a good thing David knows who Charity is and where she lives, or I would have made a real idiot of myself. I can’t fuck things up with my first-ever girlfriend. This is a rite of passage. My first steps into manhood. Everything has to go just right.

“Dude, I can’t believe you don’t remember who Charity is. She’s in our Algebra class-” David halts. “Oh, there she is!” He points towards a group of girls on the far side of the pool. I recognize a couple of them, but don’t remember any of their names.

“There’s like ten girls over there, dumbass. Which one is she?”

“She’s the one facing us. In the pink bikini.”

That’s my girlfriend? Damn, I have more game than I thought. She’s hot. Something sparks to life inside me. It feels like that one time Peter Wiser dared me to swallow thirty packs of Pop Rocks at once and I thought my insides would explode. Except this feels better. Much better.

David starts to walk away. I panic.

“Wait dude, where are you going?”

“Um, to get some food,” he says, thumbing over at the array of sodas, snacks, and pizza boxes at the bar. “Go hang with your girl. I want to see how many cheese pizzas I can eat before someone says something.”

The Pop Rocks turn sour in my stomach. I’ve never gotten this far before. A girlfriend? What do I even do? How do I look? How do I smell? Will she like me in person? Will she think I’m hot? Funny? I’m the dude, so does she expect me to make a move? I should have done more pushups. If I want to hold her hand, how do I do it? What if she tries to kiss me? A buzz of anxiousness mixes with excitement, and I find myself rooted here. Alone.

Then she looks at me. Laughing from across the pool. Shit, is she laughing at me? I look around at everyone I know from school running, chatting, laughing, swimming. And me, just standing here like a fucking dweeb. Why’d David have to ditch me like that? I look back across the pool, accidentally locking her gaze. She tosses her dark hair over her shoulder and smiles at me, eyes sparkling. Okay, this is good. Then she slips away from her friends and starts making her way around the pool. Towards me. Towards me.

Shit, what do I do?

Play it cool. Be chill.

I shove my hands in the pockets of my trunks and take a couple wandering steps towards her.

I clear my throat, putting on my deep voice and giving a sharp nod as I say, “‘sup.”

“Hi,” she says, looking down. Damn, her hair looks so soft, and her boobs are so- Look at her face! Be cool! I flip my head, letting my hair swoosh to the side, just like I practiced. I should probably run my fingers through it like they do in the movies. To look cool. So I do.

What do I do next? I should probably hold her hand. That’s what boyfriends and girlfriends do, right? Like launching myself over the pool in a fully-committed belly flop, I grab her hand before I can think.

Her fingers settle into mine and she gives me a squeeze.

Holy shit, I’m doing it. I’m holding a girl’s hand! I have a girlfriend and I’m holding her hand!

My arm feels tingly. And numb. And jittery. I’ve gotta keep it still. Not too still, but like chill.

“Want to go in the hot tub with me?” She asks, in a flirty kind of way. Her voice sounds a little different than when we talked on the phone. Little did I know that while I was trying to print out “Girl with Big Boobs,” the hottest girl in our grade would call and ask me to be her boyfriend. Man, I must be hot shit!

I shrug and look off to the side. “Sure, I guess.”

“Cool.”

Hot tubs in Southern California are totally unnecessary. So since she has one, her parents must be like super fucking rich. The water is way too hot, but I can’t just not sit in the hot tub with her. I settle in and she scoots close, putting her hand on my chest and looking up at me. I wrap my arm around her shoulders. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. I grip onto every part of myself to keep it together, play it cool.

“I’m glad you came,” she says. Her lips are super close to mine. Oh shit, I’m the guy, I should kiss her, right? That’s what I do?

But before I can, another feeling starts to bubble up inside me.

My dick starts to push against my swim trunks.

Fuck!

“Hey, uh… Does this hot tub have those jet things?” I ask, doing my best to adjust my trunks without her noticing.

Her face gets bright. “Oh, yeah! I can turn those on!”

She stands from the hot tub and water droplets curve over her barely-covered ass. Damn. My dick starts to push harder. Shit. Shit. Shit. Keep it together, man. I do a quick scan of the immediately surrounding area. No one’s looking, you’re good. After the longest moment ever, the jets spurt to life and I can breathe again. She slips back inside the hot tub and gets close, picking back up where we left off.

Just then, something catches my eye. David. Waving at me, pointing at me to leave. He has a crazy face on.

I give him a look. I’m not leaving. I’ve got my new girlfriend, the hottest girl in our grade, cuddling with me in the hot tub.

He’d be insane to think I’d walk away from this.

He’s insistent, making an “X” with his arms and motioning to me to get out.

I shake my head then flip him off. Catch the hint, dude.

“What is it?” She looks up at me.

“Oh, it’s my boy David. He’s being a dick, I don’t know.”

She scoots close to me, her face pulling to mine. The chaos of the jet bubbles matches the electricity in my veins as she says, “I want you to kiss me.”

This is it. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. Is it always this easy?

Before I can overthink it, she pushes her lips against mine. A quick kiss before pulling back to look at me with teasing in her eyes. Wow, I really just kissed a girl. My girl. My girlfriend. I’m glad the jets are on to hide my excitement. I lean in and kiss her again, lingering this time. It’s warm. Her lips are soft. I feel her smiling. Damn, this feels good.

“Tyler?! Rachel?!” A blaring shout comes from behind me. Whatever this is, I’m totally screwed.

She breaks our kiss and turns towards the voice, saying. “What, Charity?”

My heart slams into my butthole as I look at her. The girl whose hand I held, whose lips I’ve kissed, the girl David pointed out as my girlfriend. Any excitement I had for our moment together completely deflates. “Wait. You’re… Not Charity?”

“I’m Rachel. That’s Charity,” The girl who’s been all up on me — Rachel, apparently — points to the girl who is now in tears, then gives me a weird look. “Ew, you thought I was Charity?”

“No! I mean… Yes. I mean, I just-”

“Tyler, how could you!” I turn, not wanting to leave the safety of the hot tub. Charity is surrounded by other girls I recognize from school. Actually, now that I look at her, I do recognize her! From Algebra. I think we were even in the same elementary school class for a couple years.

Charity’s posse glares at me, and now I know what Dad meant when he said “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

Shit.

“Cheater!” they say. “Man whore!” “Douchebag!”

“Rachel, you’re such a bitch!” Charity screams, eyes seething through angry tears. Her fists are wadded up like she’ll throw a punch or do something crazy. I sink a little lower into the scalding water, sweat prickling at my forehead. Something tells me that sticking with “Girl with Big Boobs” would have been way less dramatic. Or scary. Or life-threatening.

“What, Charity?” Rachel says, stepping out of the hot tub. “You can take my man, but I can’t take yours?”

Oh fuck.

“I didn’t take him, Rachel! He texted me. It’s not my fault I’m prettier than you!”

Screams fill the air as Rachel charges Charity. They start pushing each other, throwing hands with shrieks of effort. Partygoers form a ring around them, some of the dudes are cheering them on. “My Humps” is blaring through the speakers, the beat thumping along. I take advantage of the distraction to slip out of the hot tub. Maybe I can go… Somewhere else. Anywhere else. Maybe I can find David and give him a swift punch to the nuts. Why the fuck did David set me up like that? He pointed and said Charity was the girl in the pink bikini. I’ve been making out with the girl in the pink bikini… and suddenly, that wasn’t my girlfriend this whole time?! Where the fuck is that guy…

Then three simple words come slicing through my thoughts.

“Tyler kissed me!” Rachel screams, red-faced. Everyone looks at me. There goes my sweet escape. Any wit I might have had in this moment flees like the water dripping down my trunks and puddling at my feet. I feel my cheeks tingle with the weight of everyone’s stares.

“You kissed my girlfriend?!” The crowd parts for Curtis Marks. He’s a freshman, but he had an early growth spurt, so now he’s big enough to play O-line on the Varsity football team. They call him the Refrigerator. Definitely not the guy you want to upset. And he’s coming right at me.

I gulp. I put my hands up in surrender. “Hey man, I didn’t know she was your girlfriend. David!” I shout. “David, you told me the girl in the pink bikini was Charity! See, Fridge, this is all a misunderstand-”

I hear the hit before I feel it. My face throbs, my hands and knees screech at the wet, swirling concrete. I can’t believe this is my life right now. Pain blasts through me but I shake my head. I’m not out of this yet. Suddenly, David is grabbing my arms, helping me up.

“Yeah, Rachel’s wearing a red bikini, dumbass!” someone shouts.

“This is definitely red,” Rachel says, adjusting her top in a way that makes her tits bobble around.

Charity looks down at her bikini — which, in my defense, looks more orange than pink — then starts crying again.

David stays next to me and turns to the crowd, “Yeah, okay. Tyler’s kind of a dumbass for not knowing the difference between red and pink. It happens. Can we just move on?”

The Refrigerator’s killer glare is on me. I’m about a thousand percent sure David’s words mean nothing to him. I mean, look at him. All brawn, no brains, that’s why he’s so good at smashing things. Including people.

I’m racing for anything. “I thought… I mean, she came up to me. I didn’t know-”

“Dumbass or not, you kissed my girlfriend!” The Refrigerator cracks his knuckles and the crowd is filled with screams and cheers. Is this what gladiators feel like before Maximus chops their heads off? “Hollaback Girl” is bouncing off the speakers, sending “my humps, my humps my humps my humps, my lovely lady lumps” into the air as I tiptoe around the angry Refrigerator. I look like an idiot, this is insane. I refuse to die like this. I refuse to die a virgin. But he’s closing in on me, and I have nowhere to go. I look up at the faintly shining stars.

If you’re there, God, please help me.

“Tyler!” My name is shrieked out loud for the second time tonight. Except this time, I know the voice. And that voice is not here to rescue me from the Refrigerator.

Fuck.

I take it back, God! Leave me with the Refrigerator! I’d rather be pummeled by any angry O lineman than-

“Tyler Edmonton Whitehead!” My mom, red-faced and out for blood stomps through the circle of swimsuit-clad middle schoolers. Even the Refrigerator looks a little scared. She gets in my face, and it’s like she didn’t even realize her precious baby boy was just about to become a dickless pancake.

“Tyler, what are you doing here?” That angry vein in her forehead is threatening to pop out, I can see it pulsing just beneath the surface of her freckled skin. She says something about David’s parents telling her where we were, then looks at the swirl of people surrounding us, getting an executive air to her. “Does someone want to explain to me what’s happening here?”

“Tyler’s dating Charity, but he kissed Rachel,” Audrey popped up to say from somewhere in the back. Always the little tattle-tale bitch.

Flames erupt in Mom’s eyes. “You have a girlfriend?!”

And just like that, I’m backing up, fighting to explain myself. Again. “Well no,” I say pathetically. “It was an honest mistake-”

Charity breaks down into sobs again. “He broke my heart!”

Mom grabs me by the ear so hard, she might just rip it clean off. “Tyler, I raised you to be better than your father.” Her anger hikes at the words, and she releases her grip on me. The pain of it mixes with the aches of the Refrigerator’s hit, and I wobble as I fight to stand up straight.

It’s then that I realize with horror what’s in Mom’s other hand. A giant stack of papers, rolled in her fist. Probably fifty pages of white printer paper marred by thick dark ink.

Oh no. Oh God, no.

She found it.

I want to reach out and grab the papers. Hide them, burn them, whatever. Prevent my worst dreams from being brought to life. But my body stays silent. Still. Just like that fucking printer.

“Tyler, I raised you better than this,” she seethes. “First a girlfriend, and now…” The vein in her forehead pops, signaling to me she’s reached the angry point of no return. “I can’t believe you brought pornography into our home!” She reels her hand back and smacks my arm with the roll of papers. I imagine I looked like a pathetic dog you discipline with the newspaper, which is embarrassing enough. Except, mom misjudges how much force she uses.

The rolled-up pile of papers explodes into the air and catches on the stupid California breeze. And just like that, “Girl with Big Boobs” is everywhere. Flying through the air, sticking to the wet concrete, slipping between my peers who are chasing them down like they’re snagging bills in a money machine. “My Humps” is still blaring in the background, and I would like to sink to the bottom of the pool and stay down there forever.

As people start to gather up the pages, ogling at my top search result, Mom seems to realize what exactly she’s done in this particular crazy streak. Distributing porn among minors — accident or otherwise — can’t possibly be a good thing. She slams her jaw shut and grabs me by the wrist. “Come on, Tyler. You’re grounded.”

In less than five minutes, I lost my first girlfriend, my fake girlfriend, and any ounce of dignified swagger I had worked all my thirteen years to hone. That must be some kind of record. No amount of AXE body spray could hide me from the embarrassment of that day. Since then, I’ve never trusted a printer.

File.

Delete.

This story was originally published on my Medium.