"So, how did you lose it, Helga?" Gerald asked casually from the other side of the glass table. The others stared into her eyes, not aware of the immense pressure they were laying on her. This was why she hated dinner parties. It always ended in tipsy truth or dare. If she had been playing with anyone else, she could lie her way past embarrassing questions, but these were her best friends since first grade – they knew when she was lying.
"L-lose what?" Helga stuttered, her palm slipping to the back of her neck for reassurance and her mind racing to find an excuse. She knew damn well what Gerald meant, how was she supposed to admit to being a virgin in front of Phoebe and Gerald and Rhonda and, worst of all, Arnold. She didn't know whether Arnold had lost the v-plates yet, but she didn't feel like asking, especially not in a situation like this.
"Lose your virginity? Popping the cherry? Come on, out with it!" Gerald demanded, putting his arm around Phoebe, who giggled at his touch. They had been dating since the group graduated high school, and really suited each other. Gerald was very protective over her, as she was short and sweet, and he loved her more than anything, even if he didn't always like to let his sensitivity show.
"I..uh.." Helga nibbled the inside of her cheek anxiously, desperate to be somewhere else, other than stuck in Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd's luxury apartment, getting bombarded with awkward questions and the hostess' cigarette smoke.
"She doesn't have to answer if she doesn't want to..." Arnold smiled, coming to Helga's rescue. Since middle school, the two had grown apart. Helga had matured and stopped teasing Arnold; she learnt, instead, to repress her love for him. The old elementary school bond was present but somewhat weakened by the passing of time.
"But you can't honestly tell me you're not curious yourself, Shortman?" Gerald laughed, eager to hear Helga's response because he could tell she was hiding something.
"Well, I guess I am curious, sure, but don't force her..."
Helga shot Arnold a grateful glance, but it was too late, she would have to confess. Besides, she thought, who cares? It's a personal thing, not for someone else to decide.
"Well, I..." she began, with a shaky breath inwards.
"Get on with it.." Rhonda sighed, elegantly drawing on her cigarette.
"Of course, I lost it, years ago, ages ago, in fact... to.. a boy named.. Oliver. On.. on the beach! On holiday..." Helga blubbered. There was no backing out now.
Gerald laughed, Rhonda raised an eyebrow in what could have been either disbelief or approval, Phoebe giggled, nuzzling into Gerald, not really paying attention as she was mildly intoxicated anyway, and Arnold... held a smile, like someone would hold a crying child. She could tell there was disappointment running raw through his veins, but something compelled her to continue.
"So, how was it?" Rhonda asked with a sly smirk.
Helga froze. How was it? How was it? Oh, you mean how was the sex I didn't have with a guy who doesn't exist? It was great/fabulous/hideous/awful/painful/awkward/funny, all of the goddamn above! Her mind went into overdrive trying to think about an adequate, plausible response.
"It was-"
"Oh shit!"
Helga was interrupted by Gerald's exclamation upon receiving a text message. "I have to go, guys, I'll see you round!" he muttered, suddenly flustered and serious as he put his coat on. Phoebe grabbed his wrist. "What's going on?" she asked.
"No time to explain, just come with me." Gerald lead Phoebe out of the apartment as she managed to squeak "Thanks for the party, Rhonda!"
The three sat in silence. "Gee, I hope everything's okay.." Arnold murmured half-heartedly. Helga nodded in agreement, shaking slightly with the adrenalin of faking a story of how she lost her virginity. Rhonda made smoke rings with her mouth.