by Ali Cronin
‘Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.’ He looked delicious, of course, in jeans and a John Lennon T-shirt. At the next stop a woman got on and stood in front of us, holding on to the overhead rail. I sneakily looked her up and down, admiring her skinny jeans, trench coat and trilby. Joe leant over again.
‘What does she look like?’ he said in a low voice. ‘Men’s hats on girls just look stupid. I mean, is she trying to look like a lesbian?’ I didn’t say anything, and we spent the rest of the journey in companionable silence, Joe stroking the inside of my hand with his finger.
And then it was lovely walking hand in hand through the crowds and the lights to the pub where we were meeting Joe’s friends. This could be our future, I thought. Sharing a flat in London, going out at the weekends and always having a soft spot for this place because it’s where we went during our first weekend together.
‘Earth to Sarah,’ said Joe, gently tapping my head.
I shook the fantasy away. ‘Sorry … I was just thinking about tonight.’ I looked up at him. ‘D’you think your friends will like me?’
Joe squeezed my hand. ‘Course they will. What’s not to love?’ (Love?!) He brought us to a stop. ‘Here we are.’ He let go of my hand to push open the door of a wide-fronted building and I followed him into a large, crowded bar – it wasn’t particularly snazzy, but it wasn’t the student dive I was expecting either. I trotted to keep up as he weaved through the tables into a back room, where from a corner near the pool table a girl waved us over. She was sitting with four others: two girls and two boys.
‘Joey!’ squealed Waving Girl, and she stood up and leant across the table to throw her arms round my man.
‘All right, Mimi,’ grinned Joe. ‘Starting as we mean to go on, then?’ He nodded at the half-drunk bottle of wine on the table.
Mimi (what kind of a name is that?) wagged her finger at him. ‘We’re not all alcoholics like you.’
Joe laughed politely then put his hand on my back. ‘Everyone, this is Sarah.’
I plastered on a grin and said, ‘Hi! Nice to meet you,’ then gave a little wave. And instantly regretted it as being both lame and stupid. Everyone said hello back, although I noticed all three girls giving me the quick up-and-down appraisal. I took a deep breath and sternly reminded myself that Joe liked me so there was no reason at all why they shouldn’t too.
‘I’ll find you a chair,’ said Joe, and he disappeared, leaving me standing like a lemon. The girls openly stared at me and Mimi caught my eye. She stretched her mouth into a horrible parody of a smile then immediately dropped it, her eyes dead. I fought the urge to run away.
Three vodka and Cokes later, I was kind of enjoying myself. Ben and Rav were there. I hadn’t recognized them when we’d first arrived. I’d only ever seen them in swimming shorts. Turned out they were also Joe’s housemates – they’d made themselves scarce earlier on to give me and Joe some space.
But the girls were a different matter. They pretty much ignored me, talking and laughing among themselves. Mimi had long honey-coloured hair, which she kept swishing around like she was in a bloody Pantene advert, and she obviously loved the way her orange-painted nails looked on the side of her wineglass cos she kept waving it around to emphasize what she was saying.
I couldn’t help stealing glances at the girls. They were only a few years older than me, but there was something about them. They seemed so confident and relaxed. They made me feel like a kid who’d been allowed to stay up with the grown-ups for a special treat.
Joe drained his bottle for what must have been the fifth or sixth time. ‘Right, my round again.’
‘No, I’ll get this one,’ I said, praying that the twenty-pound note in my purse would cover it. I stood up and hitched my bag on to my shoulder, but Joe pulled me back down.
‘No, I’ll get them,’ he insisted, and I swear I heard one of the girls – a pretty one with blonde hair in a sharp bob – make some remark about ID.
By the time Joe got back with the drinks the girls had joined in with the boys’ conversation. It seemed Bob Girl was called Lara or Mara or something, and the other one – lip gloss and black spiky hair – was Rosie. The conversation moved on to uni gossip and I tuned out. The boys made the odd attempt to include me, but there was no point. I had nothing to bring. I looked around the room and tried not to look bored.
‘Uh, Joe?’ said Mimi suddenly, eyeing me coolly. ‘Think it might be about time to take your little friend home? Looks like it’s past her bedtime?’
Mortification. The girls laughed and even Rav and Ben sniggered into their pint glasses. I pretended not to have heard and waited for Joe to defend me. But instead he plonked his arm heavily across my shoulders and leant over to clink drinks with Mimi, dragging me forward awkwardly.
‘Don’t worry, Meems, she’s got a note from her mum,’ he said, snorting with laughter. ‘Right, babe?’ and he gave me a perfunctory squeeze before removing his arm so he could thump his chest and burp at the same time.
I somehow managed to dredge up a smile. ‘Yeah. Special dispensation for tidying my room.’ As retorts go, I was quite pleased with that one, but no one heard. They were either laughing at Joe’s comment or had already gone back to their own conversations.
I took a slow breath and blinked to get rid of the tears pricking my eyes. Don’t look upset, just ignore it. Don’t look upset, just ignore it. I stole a glance at the others. Ben caught my eye. He gave me a slow wink and slightly raised his glass. I smiled at him gratefully, but it just made me feel more lonely. Dunno how it’s possible to feel lonely in a crowded pub sitting next to a boy who’s spent the best part of the day with one or more parts of his anatomy inside you, but there you go.
The next couple of hours went agonizingly slowly. I almost did an air-punch when last orders were called, but it was another half an hour before we finally left, and then we just ambled along the streets, the girls lurching all over the place and the boys taking it in turns to shove each other into the road.
I pulled Joe’s sleeve to get his attention. ‘Where are we going?’
He looked at me with drunken unfocused eyes. I hate that. ‘Dunno, babe,’ he slurred. God, he was really pissed. And I so wasn’t loving this ‘babe’ thing. I didn’t mind it from my friends, but from Joe it sounded boorish. Like Adam.
I gave up and trotted along behind them. I thought about going back to Joe’s, but I didn’t have a key. Or know how to get there. Or know where we were.
Nice work, Sarah, I thought. Empowering stuff.
At one point we stopped at a kebab shop so everyone except me could spend approximately twenty-seven years choosing what to order. Then even slower progress was made, until eventually we passed Warren Street Tube station (no use to me: it was closed) and Rosie shouted, ‘Hey, let’s go to Henrik’s!’ So we took a detour to one of their uni’s halls of residence, where another fun-packed hour was spent squashed into this Henrik’s room, sitting on his bed while the girls tried to persuade him to come out. He was so obviously not up for it that I’d have felt sorry for him if I hadn’t felt so sorry for myself. I spent the hour looking around and wondering what it’d be like to go to uni here.
It was gone four by the time we got home, having parted with the girls at the night-bus stop. I didn’t even remember them saying goodbye. One minute they were there, the next they weren’t. It was about the only good thing to happen that entire night. It didn’t get any better, either. Me and Joe went into his bedroom and I turned around to close the door, literally sighing with relief that it was all over. When I turned back, he was comatose.
All I could do was brush my teeth, get into bed beside him and wonder what the hell I was doing there.
6
‘Sarah … Hey, Sarah.’
I slowly opened my eyes. Joe was leaning up on his elbow, watching me. He ran a finger down my forehead and over my nose, bringing it to a stop on my lips. He leant forward and, removing his finger, kissed where it had been, then he
put his finger back and traced round my mouth. ‘Sorry. I had to wake you.’ He fixed his eyes on mine. ‘You are so beautiful.’ He paused. ‘I need you.’ And he kissed me deeply and tenderly, his mouth soft and warm on mine.
Oh God. I knew I should still be angry, but he’d been drunk last night. No one’s really themselves when they’re drunk. This is the way Ashley and Donna do it, I told myself. Just go with it. Joe pulled away from me then, and slowly kissed his way across my breasts and over my belly button, until his face was level with my crotch. I fought the urge to stop him when he started to take off yesterday’s knickers, but then I felt his tongue on me, and the world disappeared again. And this time he didn’t stop until my whole body fizzed and hummed, and I grabbed his hair and whimpered.
A couple of hours later, we came up for air. Joe wrapped the second condom of the morning in a tissue and dropped it on the floor then, after planting an affectionate kiss on my right nipple, flopped on to the bed and pulled me to him.
‘So am I right in thinking you came a grand total of three times this morning, young Sarah?’
I turned on to my side so I could see his face. As I thought: smug. ‘Pretty pleased with yourself, aren’t you?’ I said, smiling.
He inclined his head modestly. ‘The facts speak for themselves … And you’re welcome.’
I laughed and shook my head in mock disbelief. ‘Pride comes before a fall, Joseph.’
‘What does that even mean?’ he said, feigned confusion furrowing his rather lovely brow. ‘Like, what does falling over have to do with pride?’
I laughed then realized that he wasn’t joking. Maybe a knowledge of the metaphorical nature of old granny sayings isn’t a vital component of a politics degree, but still. Duh. Anyway, it made me feel slightly less petrified about seeing his friends again. If nothing else I could dazzle them with ‘Too wrongs don’t make a right’ and ‘A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush’ (although to be honest I didn’t have a clue what that one was about).
Joe turned away from me, taking my arm with him so I curved round his back. ‘So,’ he said, kissing my hand. ‘I guess the question on everyone’s lips is: how do I compare with the others?’
I tried to sound light and unbothered. ‘What others?’
He spun round so he was facing me again. ‘No way. You weren’t a virgin?’ I shrugged and smiled. ‘Wow. Well, I have to say: you’re a natural.’
I beamed. As compliments go, it was way up there. ‘You don’t mind, then?’ I asked, and he gave me a what do you take me for look and flopped on to his back. We lay silent for a minute. I raked my fingers lightly up and down his chest.
‘Mmm, that’s nice,’ he murmured, his eyes closed. I watched his mouth curve with contentment and felt a slight thrill that it was me who was making him feel like that.
No use kidding myself. Last night might as well never have happened.
‘So when did you lose yours, then?’ I asked, keeping my voice low so as not to destroy the mood.
Without opening his eyes, he said: ‘Fifteen. Honey Jessop. We went out for two years in the end.’ He paused as if reminiscing. ‘She gave brilliant blow jobs.’
‘You lost your virginity to someone called Honey?’ I ignored the BJ comment-slash-subtle hint. I knew that giving him oral sex was probably the polite thing to do, since he’d done me the favour, but I was also pretty sure that, when it came to sex, the normal rules of etiquette needn’t apply. Bottom (ha ha) line? I just wasn’t ready to put his willy in my mouth.
He grinned, showing his beautiful teeth. ‘What can I say? I went to a posh school.’
I sniffed haughtily. ‘Well, if I may say so, Joe is a much more sensible name for one’s first shag.’
He put his arm round me and drew me close. ‘Couldn’t agree more.’ He kissed the top of my head and we fell silent, eventually falling asleep in each other’s arms.
I woke to find Joe fresh from the shower, naked and towelling his hair. It was the first time I’d seen his penis anything other than excited. It looked kind of sluggy.
‘Get up, lazy bones,’ he said, chucking me the towel. ‘I need food.’ I grinned happily and jumped out of bed, flicking his bum with the towel on my way out of the door. ‘You’ll pay for that, missy,’ he called after me.
I giggled. I certainly hoped so.
‘So, who were those girls last night?’ I asked casually, studying the cafe menu. In the shower I’d started thinking about them again. That Mimi made me uneasy.
Joe wrinkled his forehead. ‘I told you. Friends from uni.’ He put his menu back in its little wooden holder in the middle of the table. ‘What are you having?’
‘Uh, scrambled eggs on toast, I think. No, I mean, who exactly are they?’ I smiled at him. ‘I’m just interested.’
‘Scrambled eggs?’ Joe scoffed. ‘No way. You need a full English after all that exertion in my bed.’ I felt his bare foot working its way up my leg. I pushed it down.
‘Joe! I will not have such behaviour!’ I raised one eyebrow in what I hoped was a seductive fashion. He stuck his bottom lip out.
‘Sorry, Miss.’ Slouching in his chair, he grinned mischievously. ‘Can I help it if you drive me wild with desire?’
Funnily enough, the friends conversation didn’t happen after that. Turned out sex talk over breakfast is most diverting, although a bit of a bummer when you have a train to catch. I crossed my legs and wondered if I was doomed to be permanently horny now I was with Joe. He got up to leave. ‘Right,’ he said, chucking a couple of notes on the table. ‘I’ll walk you to the station.’
Back on the street we walked in silence, just enjoying being together. ‘I’ve had an amazing weekend,’ I said, leaning into him. ‘I would say you could come to mine next, but …’ I didn’t need to spell out that my parents would probably prove to be a bit of a downer on the whole riotous sex thing.
Joe squeezed my hand briefly. ‘Yeah, well. I’ll text you or something, yeah?’
Or something? I swallowed hard and opened my mouth, although I had nothing to say. He stopped and turned to me. ‘Look. Sarah.’ Oh God, he’d made his voice all gentle and conciliatory. Even with my limited experience, I knew what that meant. ‘You’re gorgeous, and great in bed, but I don’t want you getting the wrong idea … and thinking this is something it’s not.’
‘Well, what is it then?’ I felt sick.
Joe shrugged. ‘It’s a bit of fun, isn’t it?’ He smiled at me encouragingly. ‘You’re still at school and I have uni and everything … It’s not like either of us is looking for a relationship.’
Leaving him in Spain had nothing on this. At least then there was hope. I let go of Joe’s hand. I’d forgiven him once. I wasn’t going to do it again. Turning to leave, I quietly said, ‘I don’t know what I want. But I did think maybe it was more than just sex.’ And then I walked away. He started to say something, but he quickly gave up, and then I heard him turn round and start back the way we’d come. I put my bag on the floor and clenched my fists tightly, my nails gouging crescent moons in the palms of my hands. I stared at the pavement. It was covered with patches of ancient dried chewing gum.
‘Bye then,’ I whispered.
At the station I bought a magazine and a Coke and sat rigidly on the platform, staring into space. When the train arrived I calmly boarded and walked along until I found an empty carriage, then dropped into a seat, not caring that my bag was blocking the aisle, and howled. I buried my face in my hands. Oh God, the humiliation. And Joe. Oh, Joe. The thought of not seeing him again made me want to die. I hauled my bag on to my knee, grabbed my phone then chucked the bag back on to the floor. I scrolled to Cass in my Favourites. She answered almost immediately.
‘Hey, Mrs Joe, how’d it go?’ she purred.
‘Cass,’ I hiccuped. ‘I’ve been such a stupid cow.’
‘Oh, honey, what happened?’ I heard the sound of a door closing: Cass shutting herself away so she could talk to me in private. I could imagine the exact
look of concern on her face.
I pinched the top of my nose as if that would stop me dissolving. ‘It was amazing. But then it wasn’t. But then it was again. And we had amazing sex. But …’ I burst into tears all over again. ‘He doesn’t want me.’
Cass gasped. ‘Did he tell you that?’
I felt a stab of protectiveness. Even after everything, I wasn’t ready to hate Joe. ‘Oh, it’s not his fault really,’ I said, sniffing. ‘I just read way too much into it.’ I started crying again. ‘Why can’t I be more like Ashley and just … shag? Why does it have to mean so much to me?’
‘Look, hon, Ash talks the talk but she’s not immune. C’mon, you remember the way she was last Christmas when that Mike guy chucked her.’
I did. She’d tried to pretend she didn’t care, but Cass had seen her crying in the stationery cupboard.
I took a wavering breath. ‘I know. But I was way too clingy with Joe.’ I stopped, almost too embarrassed to go on. ‘I thought we were making love,’ I whispered.
Even over the sound of the train I could hear Cass sighing. ‘Oh, honey.’
‘I know,’ I said, sobbing. I lifted my feet up on to the seat and hugged my knees. ‘I drove him away.’
‘No you didn’t, hon. He’s just a man. That’s what they’re like.’
I spent the rest of the journey back to Brighton scrolling through every mournful track on my iPod and going over and over the previous forty-eight hours. Yes, Joe had been distant at the pub, but he’d been so attentive that morning. And so sincere. Was it really just to get me to have sex with him? And the sex had been special, I’d felt it. Why did he look so deeply into my eyes if he was just using me? Was it possible to fake all that? (Well, duh, said the voice of reason, making a long overdue appearance.)
With these riddles on repeat, I dozed off, waking with a jolt every time my phone pinged with a text or call from one of the girls. I put it on Silent and went back to sleep, only waking in Brighton when the people going to London started boarding the train.
I stumbled home, my mouth dry, my head aching, and a bag of stones in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to forget the last two days had ever happened.
