feelings.
But now there is Alex.
Alex and all the Alex-feelings that go along with him.
He’s the person I want to have sex with. The sooner the better, before this whole thing falls apart and I miss my chance.
I figure today is the day. Alex is coming over, like we agreed in the car last night. Mum is at work. If we do it now, in my room, on my terms, on my invitation, then I’m more in control of the situation. I’m in control of how much—or little—he’ll be able to see of my body in the process.
I might not be in control of what happens with my parents, or where I will live, or what university course I get into, or what I will do with the rest of my life, but, fuck it, I will have control over this.
I’ve tidied my room and put clean sheets on my bed. I’ve bought a box of condoms from the supermarket. I’ve double-checked I haven’t missed a pill in the last month. I’ve had a shower and put on my expensive skin moisturiser, the one I save for special occasions. I’ve brushed my teeth twice. I blow-dried my hair this morning, and kept going until all my hair was dry, which is a big deal because I usually lazily leave the underlayer damp. I even stretched my hamstrings and watched a meditation video on YouTube to centre my spirit, whatever that means.
I text Lucy and say ‘I might have sex with Alex today’ because it doesn’t feel real without telling her. She immediately calls me.
‘Natalie!’ she shouts.
‘It might not happen,’ I say, putting her on speakerphone so I can examine my eyebrows at the same time.
‘Are you sure about this? It seems very fast,’ she says.
‘Yes,’ I say. I am sure. I think. I’m eighteen. It’s time. It has to be time. It feels like my moment. I could start university ahead of schedule.
‘What are you wearing?’
‘The Boob Top.’
‘Okay, good. How are you feeling?’
‘Nervous,’ I say, leaning as close to the mirror as I can. My eyebrows need to be sex ready. I don’t know what that is exactly, but I know how they currently look is not that.
‘Do you want…advice?’ she says, a little hesitantly.
‘What kind of advice?’
‘About…any of it.’
‘Okay, tell me your top five tips,’ I say, suddenly realising Alex is going to be here any minute.
‘I’m not a BuzzFeed article.’
‘Quick, just tell me the most important things.’
‘Um, okay. Go slow. Have fun doing other stuff first, but don’t do anything that you don’t want to do. Use lubricant. And stick to the basics.’
I have a million questions (What are the basics!? How necessary is lubricant!!?) but the doorbell rings and it’s all too late.
‘He’s here. I have to go!’ I hiss into the phone.
‘Good luck!’ she says.
I hang up, take three deep breaths like my YouTube video said to, and walk to the front door.
‘Hey,’ he says, when I open it.
‘Come in. No one’s home,’ I say, already on the edge of nervous babble.
I lead him immediately towards my bedroom. I’m jittery. I suddenly just want this to be over with. I picture myself an hour from now, as a sophisticated person who has had a satisfying sexual experience. I want to jump ahead to that moment.
He’s looking around, as though I’m going to give him a tour, but I shepherd him straight into my bedroom and I sit down on my bed.
‘We have two hours, maybe three, before my mum gets home,’ I say. Mum doesn’t normally get home until six, but I’m building in a buffer.
‘For what?’ he says, looking a little confused.
‘For whatever we want to do.’ I keep my tone light, but I hope he gets my meaning. I don’t want to resort to smiling suggestively.
‘Okay.’ He still sounds confused as he sits down next to me. We look at each other. He didn’t shave this morning and he’s wearing a plain grey T-shirt. The combination of a stubbly cheek and a well-fitted top is irresistible.
I stand up, and pull down my blinds, then shut the door.
‘What are you doing?’ he asks, looking at me like I’m about to commit a murder.
‘Just giving us privacy,’ I say.
‘Right. Isn’t the house empty, though?’
‘Extra privacy.’
I sit back down on the bed, leaving a space between us. It’s not completely dark with the blind down, but it’s dark enough that he won’t be able to see my skin properly. If I’m going to take my top off, I