Read Online A Bad Idea I'm About to Do by Chris Gethard - Free Book Online

opposite ends of the couch, but as the night progressed Samantha inched closer. The next thing I knew, her hand touched mine. And before I realized it I had experienced my first kiss.
    It got aggressive fast. It was the sort of passion only fifteen-year-olds can summon after they’ve been apart and talking dirty to each other for a month.
    Then, as suddenly as Samantha had instigated it, I stopped our make-out session. I turned away from Samantha’s eager mouth and fixed my gaze onto the misadventures of Lloyd Dobler. I was scared to be discovered for the freak I was.
    Samantha took a pillow and laid it on my lap, resting her head there. For the rest of the night I watched the movie, and she watched me. She smiled at me enticingly. There was no way to explain that I was terrified to open a very hairless Pandora’s box. Samantha looked at me with three weeks’ worth of build-up in her eyes, but I couldn’t find it in me to risk a humiliation that would lead to a lifetime of insecurity. So Samantha simply sat,
her head resting on a pillow that was balanced on my raging boner. Looking back now, I can understand that the situation couldn’t have been comfortable for her, physically or socially.
    As soon as the credits rolled, I headed for the stairs. My dad offered to drive Samantha home. I went along for the ride. She and my dad talked more than she and I did.
    The next night, Samantha asked me to come to her place. Her turf. I dreaded the thought that she would feel more free to be aggressive. With Samantha in control things were bound to go further, and I was sure my lack of hair would finally be exposed to the world.
    When I got to her house, Samantha’s best friend Veronica was there. I wasn’t sure why at first, but her presence there was off-putting to me. Then a rare male instinct kicked in, and I recognized that for the first time in my life I was being cock-blocked.
    I was torn. On the one hand, I was relieved that I wouldn’t have to deal with the prospect of making out with Samantha again. Sure, my cock had been blocked, but I had been actively searching for a way to block my cock on my own. On the other hand, it still hurt and I still felt shame.
    Samantha took me quietly into the next room.
    â€œLook,” she said. “I’m so sorry to do this.”
    I looked down at the ground. I was completely aware of what was coming, but I was confused and unsure how to react. Did I pretend I was sad about what was happening? Was I sad? Was it embarrassing getting dumped after one date, or was it the biggest stroke of luck I’d yet experienced in my decade and a half on earth?
    I went with what I thought was the smartest option—stoically absorbing the blow while hinting that there was a deep well of pain just under the surface. That way, Samantha would think I
was some sort of sensitive guy, yet tough enough to weather a breakup.
    I looked back up at Samantha.
    â€œJust say whatever you have to say,” I said.
    â€œI really like you,” she said. “But just as a friend. Something didn’t quite click last night. Something was off. It was just. . . . ”
    It was just my boner stabbing your temple through a pillow, I thought to myself. We both know it. Now. Let. Me. Go. Home.
    â€œIt’s over,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
    She hugged me. And as she did I inhaled deeply and took in a strong waft of that unmistakable birch beer smell Samantha had long been famous for.
    I walked by Veronica on my way out. She smiled at me, gently, not condescending at all. Her greenish-blue eyes spoke to a kindness that was very genuine. I stopped.
    â€œI’ll see you when school starts back up?” I said.
    â€œYeah,” Veronica answered. “I’ll see you then.”
    Then I gave her a very goofy grin. She laughed.
    She’s cuter anyway, I thought to myself.
    As the summer wound down I kept up one of my rituals from debate camp. Each