All characters in this story are eighteen years of age and older
My school prom was supposed to be the night I lost my virginity to my boyfriend Alex. Stereotypical, I know, but it's the truth. I'd only turned eighteen a couple of months before the prom, so I thought it would make it that little bit extra meaningful. I even used some of my savings to book a cheap hotel for the occasion, not far from the school..
However, my boyfriend Alex would not only ruin everything for us at the prom, but he would also devastatingly break my heart. Alex wasn't a virgin, so he was often frustrated at my reluctance to sleep with him until the prom. We were the same age and we attended the same school, and naively, I believed we would be together forever.
For the prom, my mother took me shopping to buy a dress. I was so excited trying on lots of fancy frocks, before eventually settling on a red, floor length, satin, v-neck, pleated dress. It even had a built in bra, giving me a sassy cleavage and one less item of clothing to stress about.
On the day of the prom I checked into the hotel at 2pm, dropping off my overnight bag and setting up the room for mine and Alex's much later anticipated arrival. I then went back home to begin getting ready.
At 6pm, one hour before the prom started, Alex arrived at my parents house to pick me up. He was so hot and handsome wearing a tuxedo, even my dad was impressed. My boyfriend commented how hot and beautiful I was, and my mother crooned over us.
I'm 5ft 5' and I have long, naturally waved, dark-brown hair and eyes. I'm also slim and busty, which I am grateful for. My mother is English and my father is Maltese, so I'm also blessed with an olive skin tone. By no means do I think I'm better than anyone else though. I just appreciate how God and my parents created me.
Finally arriving at the prom, full of nervous excitement, for many reasons, Alex and I mingled with our friends and soon-to-be former teachers, just having a good time. We danced a few songs together before sharing some of the alcohol that had been sneaked on site.
Some time around 9.30pm I went in search for my boyfriend. He'd gone off with some of his friends to vape, but I hadn't seen him in awhile. I checked inside and outside, then asked the guys leaving the boys room if Alex was inside, but he wasn't. My friends helped me search but my boyfriend was nowhere to be found. I was then reluctantly told to go and take a look inside the boys changing rooms. I thought all other areas would have been secured as no access during the prom.
I became anxious, feeling something terrible awaited me. Turning the corner in the hallway towards the boys changing rooms, I was greeted by a lad called Marcus, who was hanging around.
"Ohhhh fuck!" he cursed, as soon as he saw me. "What are you doing here, Pippa?"
"Where the fuck is Alex? Is he in there? I was tamping, dreading the worst by now.
Marcus tried to stop me entering the changing rooms but I was in no mood. I pushed him out of the way and then threw open the doors. Darkness and sexual groans greeted me.
"ALEX! YOU CHEATING BASTARD!" I screamed, then suddenly more people came running through the corridor towards the changing rooms.
"Shit! Pippa!" my boyfriend panicked, letting go of some girl bent over a bench with her green prom dress up her back. "I can explain!" he dared to try, quickly pulling his trousers up. "It's not what it looks like!"
I couldn't talk. My body was shaking with rage and I had tears streaming down my face. My breathing came quick and I just had to get out of there and run away from the prom. Total humiliation. Alex tried to chase after me but was instantly halted by two other boys. My friends rallied around me and a couple of teachers tried to get involved, but all I wanted was to get out of the building and as far away from my now ex-boyfriend as possible.
I found myself being too angry to cry for long. I wanted to punch Alex and the skank he was shagging in the boys changing rooms. Marcus could have a punch to, but violence and aggression wasn't in my nature, so I would start crying hopelessly again. My virginity couldn't have been further from my mind if I tried. Perhaps the girl in the green dress had done me a favour, I told myself.
Eventually, I got into a taxi and went to the hotel. I reassured my friends I would be fine. I was going to pack up the romantic candles and rose petals then call my dad to come pick me up. However, when I got to the hotel I couldn't bring myself to mess everything up. I broke down on the bed and cried some more. The entire evening and my relationship had just been ruined by my selfish ex-boyfriend. We should have been there in the hotel together, kissing on the bed and slowly undressing each other to have sex for the first time.
Knowing I had to pull myself together, I decided a drink in the bar was in order. I did consider changing out of my extravagant prom dress and into my going home clothes. The prom dress was too posh but the denims and hoodie in particular were too casual for my liking. So, I remained dressed as I was, and sorted out my car-crash of a face. I had mascara everywhere and my eyes were red and puffy.
It's not often I feel self-conscious when I enter a room, but seeing everyone dressed as casual as you like, I did feel ridiculous walking up to the bar with my long, satin dress, sweeping along the floor behind me. The jeans and hoodie would not have looked out of place here.
Of course everybody looked to see who the lost princess was, but I quickly let go of the sudden tension and ordered a Southern Comfort. As I sat at the end of the bar deleting Alex and his saved messages of love from my phone, I noticed there were a lot of men around. Workmen. Like my dads age. Forty and older. There were groups of them dotted around the tables wearing florescent clothing while they drank pints of lager and relaxed loudly.
Some of the men gawked and smiled at me. One or two even smiled and winked. It was like being in a nightclub, only it wasn't a nightclub. I couldn't imagine what they thought I was doing there, dressed as I was, looking angry on my own whilst getting drunk on Southern Comfort. I must have spent half an hour messaging my friends when a man approached me. He gave me an excuse to put my phone down and order my second Southern Comfort.
"That's a beautiful dress you're wearing. Not something you expect to see in a place like this though. Apologies for poking my nose in where it's not wanted, but are you ok?"
The man, if I had to guess, was around my parents age, maybe a bit older. Mid to late forties perhaps? It didn't matter. He sounded genuinely concerned for my well-being, nodding at the Southern Comfort in my hand. He was wearing those fluorescent work trousers I mentioned, and a black t-shirt that clung to his body. He had a dad-bod belly but his chest, shoulders and arms were thick a muscular.
"I'm cool," I replied sarcastically, as if it were all his fault.. "I'm cool like your trousers," I then rudely and needlessly mocked him.
The man laughed, took a seat beside me and asked the barmaid for two more Southern Comforts. I watched him as he ordered them. He was ok looking for an older guy. Ruggedly handsome with short dark hair and a clean shaven but weather worn face.
"I work on the railways. I head up the crew that just left. We work all sorts of hours and shifts," he explained. "So what's your excuse?"
"Excuse?"
"Looking so beautiful in a dress like that, in a bar like this," he smiled.
"It's a long, boring, complicated story," I shrugged and rolled my eyes.
