Lost My Virginity at the Beach

Perfection was the curse of Emmie's life. The stars had aligned, and once again, her dreams were ruined. It was getting to the point where she started to distrust her horoscope. The summer was nearing its end, and the perfect sunny day had not arrived. Instead, it had been too hot, sweaty and filled with bugs. Plainly, there was never going to be the perfect backdrop for this year's crucial summer selfie.

She had wasted every free day at the beach, hoping for the moment when her back would crackle like bacon in the hot red sun. However, it never came. It was simply alright, which was fine for people who waddled about in sandals and socks. Each day when Emmie arrived, there were always similar events on the beach.

There were drunken fathers with reddened skin and mothers screaming at their unruly children. No one's sunglasses matched their swimwear until Emmie set foot on the beach; it was a shameful sight. Now, if another person came to the beach on a daily basis, they would have noticed the changing outfits of white on Emmie.

She's brought a summer outfit for every day. Her morning started with a photo of her healthy breakfast and searching for an inspirational quote to match the image. Once the correct amount of emojis was sent, she'd style herself for the day and take another photo. Next, her favourite coffee shop would be visited, but she would barely touch the iced coffee, and once again, another posing picture would be taken.

The music in a car was chosen for the atmosphere. The right sound could launch a video into Internet stardom. Something which she had been analysing and learnt her perfection was the key. This year felt like it could be the chance. People on the Internet knew her as BlondeLotus; this wasn't her first account. She had many.

Her first account belonged to a dark-haired mouse whose face was trapped behind glasses and spots. She never wanted to be that unloveable girl again. No one wanted to admit this, but life was like school. The prettier people got the best treatment, and the Internet was no different. Thankfully, the ugly duckling was gone, and a new Emmie had emerged. Whilst it was too late for the everyday world, she still had a chance to be someone on the Internet.

Once Emmie became famous, she'd have her own home and no longer wear the ugly retail shirt. Emmie would be known, not forgotten or avoided. With every new photo on the beach, her numbers were going up. So, she had to take the right image of the beach. Her car found a parking spot, and she stepped out after checking herself in the mirror.

Moments like these felt like a movie scene. A song played in her mind as she walked the beach, finding the perfect place. She felt the eyes on her and relished it. Each step was controlled as if she was a ballet dancer during a recital. Her eyes were hidden by sunglasses, which allowed her to survey the surroundings.

The spot had to be correct. The ocean had to be viewable without other people in the photo. Merely the beach had to look like a private paradise. To do this, she had to step away from the ice cream vendors, deckchair sellers, and a tiny bar's sticky smell. It brought her to pebble parts of the beach, generally reserved for dog walkers and unlucky families. However, a spot could be found if a person looked hard enough.

With a knowing smile, Emmie had found her private paradise. Her white towel hid the questionable parts of the sand from the upcoming photos. A beach umbrella and windbreaker were erect, protecting her tanning skin from the unwanted elements. Each item was in white to match her bikini and tiny accessories.

The water bottle and selfie stick were the only items not to match. Thankfully, these mistakes could be hidden from the photos. Emmie took several photographs in a white sarong and thought of another inspirational statement for the perfect photo. Finally, it was done, and Emmie sat on her towel, staring blankly at the ocean. The waves continued to move, and the sun shined haft heartily. Occasionally, a person would be seen at the edge of the water.

No one seemed alone, and even the dog walker had their furry companions. After a few moments of staring at the ocean, Emmie removed her sandals and placed her feet on the sand, wriggling into the ground until they seemed relaxed and happy. She took a photo of them. Instead of an inspirational quote, she settled on a detailed explanation of her fun at the beach.

After posting that photo, Emmie didn't read the comments and only liked them. There were only so many things she wanted to hear about her feet. With that, she placed down her phone, and her eyes returned to the ocean. It hadn't changed. Emmie couldn't swim; it would ruin her hair. So after curling and straightening, she wouldn't let a drop of water touch the blonde-dyed hair.

A few ideas passed her mind. She could have tried yoga, but it felt pointless without taking a photo. After taking a few sips of water, she rested on her towel and hoped the sun would cook her body into a golden glow. It had become a routine during the summer. When she wasn't working a job, she waited on this beach for the next big thing. However, the breakout photo had not arrived. With each new day when the summer grew cold, there was a thought that maybe it wouldn't happen.

Thankfully, her phone constantly buzzed with notifications, and the dark thought rarely had time to take over. There was a new comment on the recent photo. Most of the comments were from men, mentioning body parts or a future which would never happen, and occasionally there was a stream of emojis from robot accounts.

Yet this new comment was slightly different. There was an emoji, but it wasn't about the model. This person had commented on the beach and their memories. Emmie favourited the comment automatically, and the name was recognised automatically. A blast from the past, who occasionally commented on photos.

A few people from her school days were following the account, and the bigger it got, the more people there seemed to be. Normally, she ignored them. The fear of being outed as her past self was overwhelming. However, Faith Langley had slipped through Emmie's self-defence. A first love always had a habit of doing that. Their time together in school was about survival, hiding in corners from the forever-waiting bullies. They were bullied for different reasons. Emmie was overweight, awkward, and the slowest runner in the school victims group.

The reasons why Faith was bullied were uncomfortably different. She'd never been overweight or awkward. She's been a lovely girl throughout high school, but being in a small town and the only hint of diversity had put a target on her back. Faith's father had been an older man with a mail-order bride from the Philippines, and the kids at school never let her forget it. However, the cruelty of children had allowed them to come together. Emmie was grateful for that.

She reviewed the new comments several times, wondering what the perfect reply would be. Finally, she settled on a noncommittal invite to the beach. There wasn't much hope since Faith rarely responded to these things. Still, Emmie held on to the memories. The movie nights, the sleepovers and the sprinkles of hugs. It had never been said aloud, but the feelings were not entirely platonic.

At this age, it wasn't a revelation. Emmie had come to terms with her sexual interests and had the browser history to prove it. It had been a confusing time when she was younger, and some of this confusion led to questionable actions; convincing Faith to practise kissing had been one of them. The awkward lip-locking had led to the degrading of their friendship. Emmie continued to sunbathe, becoming faintly aware that she hadn't taken a photo in the last hour.

She sat up, grabbed her phone and went to the ocean water. It only reached her ankles. The ocean was the perfect background for a few selfies, and minutes were wasted thinking up the perfect mermaid pun. Her phone buzzed with another notification during the heated deliberations for the next post. Faith had privately messaged her. If Emmie had wanted to be dramatic, she would have dropped her mobile and squealed like the teenager she wanted to be. However, she was still standing in the water and knew how expensive a mobile phone could be. So, she merely read the message.

Faith was already at the beach. There was no subtlety when Emmie lifted ahead and checked the beach around her, but Faith did not suddenly appear. After a series of communications, the pair could spot each other. In the distance, Faith was with her family and sitting in the busiest part of the beach. A blow-up dinosaur with mismatched eyes had been the biggest hint at their location, and it was an eye sore. Emmie had not wanted to leave her perfect spot, and it took some fighting against her better judgement to do so. She left her towel and the windbreaker to save the place, only carrying her valuables.

The Langley family were not how she remembered them. They appeared to be smaller and less strict than her childhood memories had led her to believe. Mrs Langley was no longer a walking stereotype from the Philippines but simply a stout woman who liked to sunbathe and enjoy boxed wine. Most of her face was hidden by sunglasses and a big floppy hat. She smiled as Emmie approached, recognising her instantly. As she got closer to their group, she had to dodge a wild child. The sticky creature screamed incoherently about the beach before running back to their mother.

The exhausted woman wore baggy clothes and assumed her fate as the cleaner of bogies. The image was far from what Faith used to be. Her black hair was pulled back into a bun, and every personal accessory seemed like an afterthought during a stressful morning. Faith's teenage pregnancy had been a high school scandal. At Christmas, the girl had been talking about college, but she was married by the beginning of summer. No dorky husband was within the group, and Emmie felt better with the knowledge.

She waved and squealed her excitement. Faith did not stand up and yawned a greeting. The child was now jumping on her lap, grabbing for more attention. Mrs Langley took the time for a proper greeting, delicately placing her cup of iced wine with the sand. There was a hug, which felt gooey to the touch. Mrs Langley had coated herself in sunscreen.

It wasn't the reunion she'd been expecting. Instead of Faith, she was introduced to the younger sister. If Emmie squinted, Joyce appeared to be a relation of Faith. The sister was thick, holding a lot of weight on a tiny frame. Her hair was frizzy from a terrible dye job, there had been an attempt at the colour green, and patches were still apparent within the bleached hair.

She knowledged Emmie's presence with the tilting of her head. It became clear that Faith's previous message had been polite and nothing more, and Mrs Langley was the glue for every conversation. It seemed to be focused on Joyce's future and the universities that would be knocking at her door. Occasionally, the child would scream before finding a pile of sand to destroy. The tiny hands hit their bucket several times like a drum. The noise became unbearable.

Faith did nothing but only sit there, taking a long sip of her boxed wine. It was rather sad to see. It seemed like motherhood had drained every part of a blissful spirit. However, the more the child screamed, the happier Emmie became in her virginal status.

Whilst it was embarrassing information at her age, it did seem like the best protection against little brats, that and her Lesbianism. There seemed to be one hundred reasons for this, but it will be boiled down to the simple fact of not being fucked. It was a charmless reason but the closest to the truth. A lack of a person made these types of things difficult.

It didn't help that she held onto the memories of Faith for two years before discovering the Internet. Now, she could click on any type of fantasy. It scratched the itch somewhat. Mrs Langley continued to talk, pouring a cup of iced wine for Emmie.

It tasted cheap, and the ice cubes hadn't worked their magic yet. Joyce grumbled in the background as her mother spoke on her children's behalf. A sharp comment littered their conversation, and there was no way Mrs Langley couldn't hear them, yet she wore the same friendly smile.

Frankly, Emmie wanted to return to her towel. Faith's depressive state only darkened her mood, and no trip down memory lane could lighten her burden, and every joke caused a forced laugh. The sisters were a party of bitterness. It took some time for Emmie to detangle herself from the conversation, Mrs Langley wouldn't let go, and she couldn't blame her. There's some guilt, Emmie should have mustered up some energy and helped Faith, but she didn't.

After all these years, she's just a stranger. Yes, they had practised kissing and held hands during their many adventures, but that had been someone else. Emmie was that person anymore. All she could do was wish them a good day and secretly hope things got better for her childhood crush. The walk back to her items should have been sad, but the further Emmie got, the more relieved she became. The wannabe influencer settled on her towel and let her phone buzz with notifications, and every little noise reminded us of how lucky she was.

The white fabric of the towel felt nice against the skin, and she could close her eyes without a stressful thought. Even the sun seemed to get warmer, embracing her as she tanned her skin. The time passed and eventually should have ended the day if someone hadn't dropped down next to her. A dull thud had woken her up from daydreaming. Her eyes opened to see a figure kneeling at the entrance of Emmie's windbreaker.

"Hello, Mrs Langley." There was a slight confusion in the girl's voice. Mrs Langley waved a hand as if swatting a fly, and a large beach bag was dangling off her arm.

"No, call me Flor." she corrected enthusiastically. The boxed wine had travelled to her head. The parts of the skin that weren't hidden by the sunglasses and a floppy hat were distinctly red.

Emmie pushed herself onto her elbows, wondering what fresh hell was waiting.

"The girls went home." The statement was huffed as Flor reached into her beach bag, pulling out another alcoholic beverage. This time it wasn't a box of wine but a slimline can. Its bold and neon letters revealed its contents as a novelty cocktail.

She handed one to Emmie, who took it to be polite. Clearly, the woman was lonely and desperate for a conversation. Considering what happened in the past and the incident, it was odd to have this woman talking to her. All those years ago, Flor had seen the practising sessions which had taken place in Faith's room, and that's how the friendly invites stopped.

Maybe the woman wrote it off as a teenage experiment or had merely forgotten. No matter what she thought, Flor seemed comfortable enough to talk now and talk she did. She went into great detail about strangers and recent developments in the small town. Occasionally, there would be a mention of her home country and the things she didn't miss. Emmie's ears started hurting, hoping the alcohol would numb the sensation. Any distraction was welcome, and one was offered.

"You girls, you don't take care of yourself. Your skin is going to burn, and you'll age, put on some sun cream." It wasn't a question. The older woman jumped back into her large beach bag and found a bottle of sunscreen. Emmie noted the bottle was a cheap brand from a chain store. Her eyes hardened but kept them from rolling.

"I have my own." She pointed a painted French nail at her own beach bag. However, the cheap white lotion was dumped into Flor's hand. A scream bubbled under the veil.

To make matters worse, the cheap sunscreen was unloaded onto Emmie's leg. It wasn't gentle. It was forthright in its brutal usage. Emmie watched in silent horror as another load of sunscreen onto her other leg.

"Come on, get on your belly," Flor demanded again. Her hand was filled with sunscreen.

"My belly?" Emmie almost snapped at the accusation of there being a belly on her body; it was only a stomach and should be called that. A stomach hinted at a flat surface, and a belly would only wobble.

"Yes, on your back." Flor pointed at the white towel. The back application was no different and was made with a practical hand. Without a doubt, that would be a stain on the back of Emmie's white bikini. However, she tolerated the inconvenience and took it as an opportunity to buy another bikini.

"It is a good day, the weather is hot, and we are at the beach." Flor's words were a part of the conversation, yet so far from the world. "And it is not enough."

Emmie lifted her head as if expecting the beach to change, expecting the magic of a filter to appear. She reached for her phone, and her fingers fumbled for the beautiful photos hidden within, Flor leaned toward the phone's screen, yet her face did not change.

A pair of sunglasses still hid her eyes, and Emmie hoped there was interest under the black shades.

"Is this your hobby?"

"It's my job." Emmie didn't waste time and directed attention to the large follower count.

"And you make money from this?"

"I make some money." It wasn't a complete lie. There was some money, but not enough. There were discounts and free items, but they were never truly useful. Emmie's room was full of free items, only valid for one photo and would soon join the rubbish bin.

"If it makes you happy," Flor bowed away from the phone screen, returning to her bottle of sunscreen. The bottle farted a few droplets onto her hand. It was becoming empty.

"Do you have any?" The older woman rubbed the remaining sunscreen into her hands, and this moment of distraction gave Emmie enough time to scowl her frustration. However, the extra bottle was handed over.

"This is fancy," Flor observed branded bottle. She appeared to be somewhat impressed by it. "You still live with your mother?"

Emmie nodded, waiting for the judgement. Of course, there would be a mockery for such a life choice.

"That is good. I wish my girls lived at home, especially Faith." Flor removed her hat, revealing short black hair and took out her own towel, placing it within the limited space of Emmie's windbreaker.

"Can you do the back of my legs?" Flor encouraged before lying on her stomach, and the branded bottle was held in the air for Emmie to grab.

"Oh, ok." it wasn't a confident response, but Emmie tried her best. The frustration oozed into awkwardness. Flor wore a one-piece swimsuit under an oversized cardigan, black and without detail. Emmie stared at the back of the bare legs; the older woman's regular tan had darkened in the sun.

"She's not happy with him." Although the name wasn't spoken, Emmie immediately understood who Flor was referring to.

Emmie stiffened. However, she wanted to hear more and squeezed the sunscreen onto the legs.

"I made a mistake. I should have left you two together; she would have never looked at him. Faith got to be a mum before becoming anything else."

"Together?" Emmie felt a bump in her quiet display, "Faith and I weren't together."

"No pretending. We all do it. I was the same. When I was a girl, I had a friend, and we were always sneaking off. Sometimes, you need a secret to fill the loneliness."

Emmie slowed in applying the sunscreen to Flor's legs. If she had understood the woman correctly, the older woman had confessed to Lesbianism.

"I swear we never did anything," Emmie feared it was some sort of test.

"Yes, too young, but there was something. I get it. It's the loneliness." Flor's tone was a jolly one. If it was a ruse, it was a convincing one.

"Now do my back." The order barely cut through the confusion. The order finally reached Emmie when Flor removed her cardigan and pulled down the top of her swimsuit. Flor remained on the towel, and her back was on display. A few moles and more tanned skin were revealed. With the sudden information that had just been announced, Emmie felt somewhat uncomfortable.