She supposes that technically she's a lesbian, owing to the fact that she screwed enough guys over the summer that surely she would feel something besides apathy towards them if she weren't.
The first time had been earlier this year, in May, just before school let out for the summer. He was an unbelievably gorgeous senior and a lacrosse player, and they had been texting and flirting between classes nonstop for weeks.
She's pretty sure he didn't even recognize her as the nerdy little freshman that he once pelted with dodgeballs during gym class. He'd thrown them at her face, so hard that her glasses snapped and her nose bled.
She supposes he also didn't remember laughing as she slowly made her way to the nurse's office, blood and tears dripping all over her new white t-shirt and tripping over doorstops because she couldn't see a thing. That didn't matter, though. She was a different girl now. Popular.
Anyway, that fateful May night there was an end of year party at Cady Trenton's parents' lake house. Everyone who was anyone was going to be there. Mona spent hours agonizing over what outfit to wear, finally settling on a tight baby-blue mini-dress and matching lacy lingerie set. She straightened her hair to perfection and colored her lips red, red, red.
When she strutted in the lake house door in her 5-inch Louboutin heels, he almost choked on his drink. After about half an hour of drinking and dancing, he led her up to an empty bedroom to make out.
It wasn't too bad, at first. Then he started getting rougher, and everything just felt wrong. His hands weren't gentle like Hanna's when he pushed her onto the bed. He didn't have earrings that tickled her cheeks when he leaned in for another sloppy kiss and unhooked her bra. Nothing about him was soft or delicate. He didn't smell like vanilla, or taste like peppermint and eggnog.
When he shoved her dress up to her waist, she tried to stop him. She didn't want to be doing this with him anymore. She felt nauseous.
He laughed and called her a tease, calloused fingers slipping under her panties. She shut her eyes tight and willed herself not to cry. She was a popular girl now. This was what popular girls did.
When he finally rolled off of her and passed out, she got up shakily and crept into the bathroom, where she immediately threw up the salad she'd had for lunch.
Something warm and wet trickled down her thighs and spattered on the floor. It was blood.
She dry-heaved for a good five more minutes, then folded some toilet-paper and stuffed it in her panties to help stop the bleeding. The pain between her legs was almost unbearable. Scouring the cabinets, she found a bottle of Advil and shook out three tablets, wincing as they went down her tender throat.
Walking in her heels was impossible, so she tucked them under her arm and gingerly took the stairs one at a time. A few drunk lacrosse players playing beer pong gave her knowing smirks as she descended. Slut, she heard one snicker as she slammed the front door.
She found Hanna warming her hands by a fire outside. The empty bottles at her feet suggested she'd spent the night becoming well-acquainted with alcohol in its various forms.
The blonde squealed when she saw her, wrapping her in her arms and holding tight. Mona felt herself melt into Hanna's embrace, and tears of relief welled up in her eyes.
For the first time that night, she felt happy. Safe. Here, in Hanna's arms, she was home.
Hanna pulled back and wiggled her eyebrows. "So? How was it? Did you guys go all the way?"
Mona told her it had been the time of her life: perfect, just like the movies. She said that he'd told her he loved her, and that afterwards he'd kissed her softly and held her close. Hanna shook her head in amazement and a little bit of jealousy. Mona forced a smile as her best friend told her how lucky she was.
"Of course, he wasn't nearly as good as the Great Hanna Marin," she half-joked.
"No, of course not!" Hanna giggled, leaning forward and kissing her flirtatiously on the cheek. "How could he be?"
Mona smiled a real smile for the first time that night, and rested her head on Hanna's shoulder. Hanna took her perfectly-manicured hand in hers and squeezed it gently. Time seemed to stand still as they quietly gazed at the stars, the wind gently whipping their hair about.
For the hundredth time, Mona wondered if she should just tell Hanna how she really felt. That she hadn't been completely drunk that night. Don't be a coward, she thought. Hanna liked people that said what they felt.
Fingers trembling, she caressed Hanna's long, blonde hair with her free hand.
"Hanna, I-"
"Haaaanna! Hanna Bananaaaa!" Sean called, jogging towards them. Hanna immediately dropped Mona's hand and threw her arms around her boyfriend's neck, pulling him down for a long kiss.
"Where have you been?" she asked breathlessly, staring into his eyes the way Mona stared into hers.
"Got us some more drinks." Sean grinned, holding up two pale grey bottles of Vodka.
"Oh, you sure know the way to a girl's heart," Hanna teased, running her finger down his chest.
"Let's go to the lake," he breathed, tugging Hanna along the dirt trail towards the lake.
Wish me luck, Hanna mouthed over Sean's shoulder, giggling as he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her in for another kiss.
Mona stared after them until they completely disappeared into the dark, until her eyes glazed over.
She'd thought that she would feel different after losing her virginity. Older. Happier. That she would finally be able to forget Hanna.
Instead, all she felt was empty. All she could think about was how she wished that Hanna had been her first time, instead of the stupid lacrosse player. But she already knew that Hanna didn't love her, and never would. Christmas Eve had been a fluke, and dreaming about the two of them together was only masochism.
But, oh, it hurt so good.
She noticed Sean's wallet lying on the ground. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he was kissing Hanna. She picked it up and flipped it open. Inside was his driver's license, a few dollar bills, a credit card, and a picture of Hanna at her last birthday party. She was radiant as always in a tight pink dress, and she was grinning at the camera like she'd been caught doing something mischievous. If Mona squinted, she could see herself in the corner, cataloguing all Hanna's presents to write thank-you cards and exchange any duplicates.
Sean didn't deserve Hanna. Where had he been when her dad left her? Or when her grandpa died? Where had he been when Naomi Thomas handed out birthday invitations to everyone in the class except for Hanna, Mona, Lucas, and the girl who ate gum off the underside of cafeteria tables?
In a burst of anger, she slipped the photo into her clutch and threw the wallet into the fire. She smirked as the flames engulfed the expensive leather binding.
Oops. It would really be a shame if he got pulled over for a DUI on the way home.