Virgin (14 page)

“Okay,” she said, throwing up her arms in resignation. “But can you please just try this on?” She held out a floral dress I had bought years ago on a whim and barely worn.

I gave up. “If I can still fit into it, I will wear it. But I’m not putting on lip gloss,” I warned.

“Okay, okay,” she said, smiling and slipping out of my room hurriedly. “I’ll leave you to get ready.”

I pulled the dress over my shoulders and struggled to get my arms through the sleeves. Eventually I managed to get into it and breathed in as I zipped it up.

It actually didn’t look too bad. The muted purples, blues and blacks of the flower print were quite subtle. I could barely move my arms because the armholes were inhumanely small, but as I was only going to be moving my fork from my plate to my mouth, I would probably survive. Wearing the dress was a small price to pay to have my mum stop with the barely veiled insults. Mothers were crazy.

The second I walked into the restaurant, my mum’s weird behavior made sense. Seated at a large round table were Mr. and Mrs. Pitsillides, Nikki and the druggie boyfriend—which would definitely make dinner interesting—and a scrawny guy who I recognized as Nikki’s older brother, Paul. This was a setup, and I had been squeezed into a floral dress because my mum wanted me to date Paul Pitsillides.

“Darling!” Debbie Pitsillides said, as she hugged my mum and then me. “So nice to see you. Gosh, you’ve grown so much.” She looked straight down my dress at my cleavage.

I flushed and smiled at everyone, giving Nikki a weak smile and nodding vaguely in Paul’s direction. My mum ushered me into a seat in between Paul and Nikki, which had strategically been left empty. I plonked myself into it and braced myself for a difficult evening.

“Hey, Ellie,” said Nikki, flicking her glossy brown hair over her shoulder as she looked me up and down. “You’ve met Yanni, haven’t you?”

Yanni was tanned with a chiseled face, cropped brown hair and a sparkly earring. He nodded at me and I smiled. “Hey, Yanni, how’s it going? Are you working at the moment?” I asked, knowing full well he was a full-time drug dealer for the privileged and bored kids in the area.

“You know—bit of this, bit of that. Mr. Pitsillides is going to try to get me a job working for him, which would be cool,” he said, shooting Nikki’s dad a deferential smile.

I rolled my eyes, hoping no one had noticed how bored I already was. “Nice,” I said, nodding. “And, Nikki, how’s stuff going for you?”

“Not bad,” she said. “I’m still in my last year of uni at Nottingham, so I’m just enjoying it, really. Loads of going out. Yanni comes up loads too, though, don’t you, babe?” She squeezed his arm and pouted at him.

I didn’t know how much of this I was going to be able to handle. I turned over to my left where Paul was nervously shifting around on his seat. “Hey,” he mumbled.

I felt a bit sorry for him. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt. I guessed he had been pressured into coming here as much as I had, although it was a bit unflattering that he clearly hated the idea of dating me. If I was an average seven out of ten, he was definitely a five. He could at least pretend he found me a bit attractive, but he was starting intently at his menu, barely looking at me.

“Hey,” I said, flashing him my best smile. “I’ve not seen you in ages. How are things?”

“Not bad,” he said. “You?”

God, if he was going to keep going with these monosyllabic answers, this was going to be a very long night. I racked my brain, trying to think of something I knew he liked that I could talk to him about. I vaguely remembered my mum saying he was studying medicine.

“Good, thanks. You’re doing medicine, aren’t you? How’s that going? Have you almost finished with the seven years of studying or whatever it is?” I asked in my friendliest voice.

“It’s five years. I’m going to finish this year.”

“No way, me too!” I cried. “I’m graduating this summer. No idea what I want to do, though. I guess you don’t have that problem,” I added a bit wistfully. “Must be nice to have your career path set out so clearly.” His face dropped and he looked even more miserable than before. I changed tack. “Although, it’s probably hard too, right? Like, having to do medicine.”

He looked up and nodded. “Yeah. It’s not bad, but I really like drawing. I don’t have much time to do it now.”

“Drawing?” I asked, struggling to visualize geeky Paul drawing nude models or bowls of fruit. “I didn’t know you drew.”

“Yeah, illustrations. For comics and stuff. I would love to be a cartoonist.”

Okay, that made a bit more sense, but still . . . medicine to cartoons? I guessed his parents weren’t pleased with this. “That’s so cool,” I said encouragingly. “I’m impressed. Can I see your stuff?” I batted my lashes. I was basically throwing myself at him.

I caught sight of my mum across the table and she threw me an approving glance. That made me feel worse, and I gratefully accepted the glass of wine a waiter poured for me. I probably shouldn’t flirt with Paul, seeing as there was no way I would ever fancy him, but I was bored. Besides, Jack hadn’t texted to rearrange our date, and even though I was convinced he would, I still felt a bit panicky. I mean, what if he never texted back? I would be back to square one, and he was so cute that I had no idea how I’d ever find someone like him again.

Even thinking about Jack made me feel sick with nerves, so I quickly distracted myself by smiling at Paul again. If my mum wanted me to flirt with Paul Pitsillides, then I damn well would.

I’d got through the entire dinner by practically ignoring everyone else at the table and giving Paul my full attention. Seeing as he only ever spoke in monosyllables—even after three beers and endless coaxing from me—it had been pretty exhausting.

It was only nine p.m. when we finished dinner, so Debbie and my mum exchanged an obvious glance and suggested that “the young ones” go out to a new cocktail bar while they went back to Debbie’s place to carry on catching up.

Yanni and Nikki were already all over each other and didn’t seem to care if we went or not so long as they could carry on touching. I looked at Paul to see if he was up for it and he shrugged noncommittally.

I smiled sweetly at the parents. “Sure,” I said, as a joyous smile spread across my mum’s face.

We walked across the road to the new bar with its faux-crystal chandeliers, soft purple lighting and overpriced mojitos. The second we got there Yanni and Nikki disappeared, so Paul and I walked over to the bar. Without the company of his sister and parents, he eased up and offered to buy me a drink.

Finally my efforts were working, and he had noticed that I was a not-unattractive girl throwing herself at him. Happily I agreed, and while I sat waiting for him to come back with my ginger mojito, I imagined kissing him. Okay, he was kind of unattractive and weirdly pale—especially compared with Yanni’s impressive tan—but he was male, I was bored and I wanted a backup guy in case Jack never got back to me. Hopefully he
would
eventually message to rearrange our plans, but in the meantime I could get down and dirty with Paul Pitsillides.

I wasn’t about to lose my V-card to Paul and his black lace-up trainers, but I would never say no to a chance to improve my kissing technique. I wouldn’t even be averse to practicing my hand job techniques with him, because even if I messed it up a bit, I’d probably be the only girl who’d ever done it to him so he’d still be grateful. Unlike James sodding Martell.

When Paul came back with our drinks, I smiled at him and made sure he could get an eyeful of my cleavage. He looked at me as if he couldn’t believe his luck and I glowed with pleasure, feeling flattered in a way I hadn’t felt with Jack, or James Martell, or any guy I’d ever snogged. Maybe I should always date guys who were less attractive than me.

“Here you go,” he said, gently handing me my cocktail. “I think my sister and Yanni have gone off somewhere, so you’re going to be stuck with me for a bit. Sorry.” He looked genuinely apologetic.

“That’s okay,” I replied, sipping the mojito. “We can catch up properly. I don’t think I’ve seen you since we were about ten and we were all playing naked in your paddling pool.”

He blushed. “Yeah. That was fun. How has everything been for you since then?”

“Since I was ten? Wow, erm . . . well, it’s been a long eleven years. Uni is good, though . . . feels weird that I’m in my last year. Like, how did that happen? When I graduate in—oh my God, four months—I’m going to be an actual
adult
. With a job. Except I haven’t got one yet.”

He laughed. “Yeah, you might want to find one. You’re right, though—time does go really quickly. I just turned twenty-four.”

I would have been excited that he was three years older than me, but my mind went straight back to Jack, who was a full five years older.

“At least you have your job lined up, though,” I said. “I wish the field I want to go into was as clear-cut as medicine.”

“What is it you want to do? You study English, right?”

“Yeah, and like every typical English grad, I want to be a writer one day.”

“I can see that,” he said.

I looked at him in surprise. “Really? How?”

“I don’t know. You’re funny and . . . creative. And you talk a lot . . .”

I laughed, genuinely touched. “Thanks, Paul, that’s really nice to hear,” I said. Paul Pitsillides was proving to be very different from how I remembered him.

“Hey, I’m three years older than you and I still haven’t figured out what I really want to do,” he said. “You’re doing a lot better than I am.”

“I don’t know. You seem pretty impressive.” I grinned. “In fact, not to be cringe, but you seem so different these days. It’s fun hanging out with you like this. Although dinner was a bit more awkward, huh?”

He smiled. “Yeah, I guess I find it hard to open up with my family watching. I also had no idea what you’d be like now. I think I was wary of finding another version of my sister.”

“Puh-lease,” I cried. “Do I look like I want to be snogging a guy with an earring all night?”

We both looked over to the couple in question, who were snogging passionately on a sofa, and burst out laughing.

“That’s my sister for you,” he laughed. “As classy as ever.”

“I think you definitely got the better genes.” I smiled. Paul abruptly stopped laughing and froze. “Um, are you okay?” I asked warily, wondering why my attempts at chat-up lines always ended in such extreme reactions.

He opened his mouth and then closed it rapidly. I looked at him questioningly and then, out of nowhere, he leaned his head towards me. Oh my God, was he about to . . .

His lips touched mine.

He didn’t put his tongue anywhere near my mouth, and instead he kissed me gently and hesitantly. It was sweet and it didn’t taste of stale beer or coffee. I put my hands on his face, feeling surprised but confident, and he started rubbing his hands across my back.

Until he stopped and broke away.

“Oh God, Ellie, I’m so sorry,” he said, turning lobster-red and looking down at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Hey, Paul, it’s okay,” I said, touching his arm with my hand, feeling a bit alarmed. “You don’t need to apologize. It was . . . it was nice. I liked it.”

His face fell even more than before and he looked like he was about to cry. “Paul, what’s wrong?” I asked. “You’re scaring me. Am I that bad a kisser?” I joked weakly.

An actual tear appeared in his left eye and I freaked out. “Paul, seriously, what’s wrong?” I asked, my tone getting panicky.

“I’m sorry, Ellie,” he mumbled, and then paused. He took a deep breath. “I think I might be gay.”

“WHAT?!” I screeched. “You’re gay? And you just kissed me? Why? Oh my God. Have I turned you?”

“No, of course not,” he cried out. “I just . . . Oh fuck, this is so complicated. I don’t know how to explain it to you.”

“I don’t care how you do it, but please start now!” I said, crossing my arms tightly.

“You’re right,” he sighed, staring at his limp hands. “I think . . . I kissed you because I wanted confirmation that I was gay. I mean, I’ve always known I was, but I’ve never really known for definite because—fuck, this is going to sound so pathetic—I’ve never kissed a girl before. I’ve never kissed
anyone
before. Not even a guy. So, I never had any proof that I was gay.”

He paused, but I was incapable of responding, so after a while he carried on. “And you were here, and you’re the first girl I’ve ever felt really comfortable with and . . . I don’t know, I just didn’t feel scared for once, so I guess I just took the opportunity.”

“Oh God.” I groaned loudly, as I dropped my head into my hands. “I’ve turned you. I knew it. I always knew I’d turn someone gay. My mum told me today I dress like a man. Do I look like a boy? Is that why you kissed me?”

“Ellie, chill out,” he said, putting a reassuring hand on my arm. “You look very much like a girl. You’re beautiful, and you didn’t make me realize I was gay—I always knew. I just, I don’t know, needed something to force me to accept it. You’ve done me the biggest favor in the world.”

I peered at him through the gaps in my fingers. “Are you sure?” I asked.

“Positive,” he replied.

“Really?”

“Yes,” he said, putting a reassuring hand on my arm. “I feel really shitty about this now. I totally understand if you want to pour my drink on me. I’m sorry, Ellie. It’s just—you don’t understand how it feels to not know for sure if you fancy men. I mean, I’m twenty-four years old and I wasn’t a hundred percent sure if I was actually gay. That’s fucking weird. You’re meant to figure this out as a teenager, but I never really had the chance. I never got to kiss anyone, let alone sleep with them. I’m a twenty-four-year-old virgin and I feel like a total freak. You wouldn’t get it.”

I sighed and twisted the straw around my drink, clinking the ice cubes. “Paul, I do get it. I’m a lot more like you than you think,” I admitted.

“You’re gay too?” he asked, his eyes brightening up with hope.

“No!” I cried out as my straw fell out of my hand. “Well, at least I don’t think so. I’ve never kissed a girl before. Maybe I should add that to my Things to Do Before I’m Thirty list.” His face crumpled in confusion and I resisted the urge to pull out my phone and add it to my list right there.

“Oh,” he said, looking despondent again. “So, what did you mean when you said you’re like me?”

“I mean that I’m a virgin too. And you didn’t really use me; I kind of used you too,” I disclosed, biting my bottom lip apprehensively.

“What?” he asked, looking genuinely curious. “For what?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” I sighed drily. “A self-esteem boost? Who knows?”

“Well, I’m incredibly flattered you thought kissing me would make you feel better.” He smiled. “But, does this mean we’re even now? Do you forgive me for the . . . kiss?”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, fine. I forgive you,” I said, in a faux-wounded voice. “Except I seriously think I’m going to need therapy for a few years to get over this.”

He laughed. “Look who you’re talking to. It’s taken me twenty-four years to realize I’m gay. But you know what? Now that I’m finally out there . . . fuck, it feels good.”

“This is huge, Paul,” I agreed. “I can’t believe I’m the first person you’ve come out to. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. You’ve helped me enough.” He paused and then grinned widely. “Wow, it feels weird to say that out loud. I am gay,” he repeated.

I felt a small ball of guilt rise inside me as I smiled weakly at him. It was probably time to come clean to him. I sighed and sat up straight.

“Okay, I’m sorry too,” I said. “I can be a self-obsessed jerk sometimes, and I used you on my path to losing my virginity and now I feel bad you’re apologizing so much when what I did was just as bad.”

His eyes widened. “You were going to give me your virginity?”

I swatted his arm with my hand. “No, that would be way too weird. I just . . . wanted to kiss you so then I’d feel better about the guy I really like not texting me back. He’s the one I really want to lose it to,” I admitted.

“Who?” he asked eagerly.

I creased my eyebrows and shook my head, wondering how the hell I’d missed the fact that Paul was gay.

“Just a guy I met at a party. But let’s not talk about him. Are we . . . okay about this whole kiss thing? I didn’t mean to try to use you,” I said. “I guess we were as dumb as each other.”

“Shall we just pretend it never happened?” he suggested. “It wasn’t my proudest moment either.”

I sighed in relief. “Deal. But”—I paused—“now we’ve cleared that up, we need to discuss this gay stuff, Paul. Are you . . . going to tell your parents?”

He looked down at his scruffy shoes. “Ellie, I’m the eldest son. They have all these hopes and dreams for me and I’m just going to break their hearts. I can never tell them. They won’t get it.”

“Paul, I know it’s a fucking nightmare, but honestly, they might be more understanding than you think. Parents can be surprisingly supportive, you know,” I said whilst racking my brains for a single example to prove this. Cher’s dad in
Clueless
?

Paul nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I can’t really deal with it all now, though. I think I just need some time.”

“Yeah, Jesus Christ, you’re a virgin who just came out at the age of twenty-four. Damn right, you need some time,” I cried out.

“Thanks for reminding me,” he replied drily.

“Sorry, a bit insensitive of me,” I apologized.

“You think?” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I will be very respectful of your gayness from now on,” I replied. “Anyway, onto more pressing matters. Now that you’re gay, does that mean we can go shopping together?”

“Oh my God, I can, like, totally be your GBF,” cried Paul.

I choked on my cocktail. “Oh my God, really?” I shrieked. “Because I’ve always wanted a gay best friend.”

He stared at me. “Ellie, I was kidding. You do realize that not all gay guys are camp?”

“I know that.” I smiled weakly. “I was, uh, kidding too. Obviously. So, um, more cocktails? I’ll just, uh . . . yep, go get more cocktails.”