The a to Z of Girlfriends

by Natasha West

  And now she was standing here, in a matching red bra and pantie set from La Senza (twenty quid, which was three and a half nights babysitting money) underneath her only dress (black, mid length, some cleavage) trying to set the mood. She just hoped Ben appreciated all her work.

  The lighter finally flickered to life and immediately scorched Izzy’s finger. ‘Ow! Shit!’ she cried. She wasn’t much of a swearer usually, her parents told her if she got in the habit, she’d forget to modify it and say it at the worst time. Izzy believed it. Alicia had once screamed ‘Wank stain!’ at a boy from her class who pinched her bum while they were filing in for assembly, right in front of the Headteacher. The Head wasn’t amused about the cursing and Alicia got a week’s detention. The bum-pincher got away clean. Izzy had been incensed on Alicia’s behalf and very nearly said something to the Head before chickening out.

  Izzy ran upstairs to the bathroom, tearing the medicine cabinet open, looking for Savlon for her burnt finger. It was nowhere to be found. She shut the cabinet and was confronted with her own reflection. Her long, thick ash blonde hair was washed and straightened. She was wearing make-up stolen from her mother’s dresser. She frowned, disappointed with her view.

  She shouldn’t have been. She had deep-set chocolate eyes that implied mystery, bee stung lips, a smile that was rarely seen but dazzling when it appeared. Her bone structure was strong and robust, her roman nose worn well. Her body’s curves, still somewhat new, were bombshell level. Anyone would have looked at Izzy and seen that she was coming into her own. They would have known a beautiful girl in the making.

  But that wasn’t what Izzy saw. She saw a big nose and tiny eyes, a goofy smile. She saw love handles and unwieldy boobs that stopped clothes looking nice on her. Worse, she saw a little girl playing grown-up. She really wasn’t sure she could go through with this.

  She was distracted from her doubts by the Savlon, laying on top of the sink, left there by some other clumsy member of her family. She dabbed it on the burn, telling herself as she did so that it didn’t really matter if she was ready or not. She’d made a decision. She’d planned this out. The thought of waking up tomorrow the same boring virgin she was today was unthinkable. She was going to do this. She was going to have sex.

  The doorbell rang. The shock caused Izzy’s hand to clench down on the Savlon and a white stream of salve squirted onto the cabinet mirror. She wiped it quickly away and hoped to god it wasn’t a portent of what was to come from the evening.

  Izzy ran downstairs to the front door. Before she opened it, she took a second to catch her breath. Only then did she put the key into her destiny (also known as the Yale lock) and turn. The key got stuck for a second and after a false start, she got the blasted thing open.

  Ben was there, grinning, his centre parting neat, his face shaved and pink, his shoes shiny, his white shirt pressed within an inch of its life. Izzy was somewhat taken aback to see he was wearing a tie. ‘Hi!’ he exclaimed, his voice a shade high.

  ‘Hi’ she said, and reflexively checked her watch.

  Ben was immediately contrite. ‘I’m early.’

  ‘Only five minutes’ Izzy said, waving off his over-punctuality, as though it hadn’t pissed her off. Because the five minutes he’d stolen meant that there were four unlit candles in the living room. They had been part of the plan and now they were an itch she wouldn’t be able to scratch because he was an eager beaver who couldn’t - just once - be slightly cool. ‘Come in’ she said, stepping back. Ben stepped in meekly, kissing her on the cheek. ‘You look nice.’

  Nice? She’d been shooting for sexy, or near enough as she could manage. Izzy presumed she’d missed the mark then. ‘Thanks. You too.’

  They stood in the hallway for an awkward second, looking at each other. They both knew what the plan was for tonight. Ben had been pushing, well, not pushing, more like nudging to take things to the next level from their kissing sessions. Izzy had made it clear to him last time she’d seen him that this was the night. He’d seemed pleased, like a dog about to be given a long-awaited treat.

  But tonight wasn’t really about Ben. It was about ‘Losing it.’ It was time. Everyone else in her year had done it now, practically. Alicia’s (not to mention Becky Jackson’s) lost virginity had quickly been followed by the burgeoning womanhood’s of Laura Kim, Lakshmi Singh, Anita Pratt and Jodie Papadopoulos. And then Helen Nowakowski, who everyone had dismissed as a virgin for life, had given it up to Darren Clark. It was then that Izzy knew she had to get on with it. Because the virgins were dropping like flies. She didn’t want to get left behind and become That Girl, the freak who was uptight and frightened of sex, a child amongst women. And Ben was nice to her and they’d been going out for a year and everyone accepted them as official girlfriend and boyfriend. So what was there to wait for?

  ‘Shall I just go straight up then?’ Ben asked, walking toward the stairs.

  ‘Well, I thought…’ Izzy started, and Ben turned back to her. ‘I mean, I’ve got wine. In the living room.’

  Ben looked put out. In that moment, Izzy hated him. She was going to give him her virginity and he wouldn’t give her ten minutes to get in the mood. She was asking for one glass of wine, a couple of songs, some dimly lit conversation. God knows, the wine was a necessary tool. She needed to loosen herself up a bit if she was going to get through this. And he wanted to run upstairs and get straight to business, no mental foreplay. The selfish bastard.

  Izzy had to remind herself that she liked Ben. She probably even loved him. In a way. Otherwise this wasn’t going to work.

  Ben seem to clock onto the fact he’d committed a faux pas and gave her an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry. Yeah, wine. Sure.’

  ***

  Ben watched with eyes wide as Izzy gulped down half the big glass of Merlot in one go. ‘Steady!’ he cried.

  Izzy took the glass away and felt a dribble of red wine spill out of the corner of her mouth. ‘Sorry’ she said, wiping her chin.

  In the background, the Spice Girls sang, Come a little bit closer baby, get it on, get it on. 'Cause tonight is the night when two become one. Izzy didn’t feel like her and Ben could become one. She was pretty sure they were going to remain two, clothed or not. She realised what a stupid song it was.

  ‘How did you do on that algebra test?’ she asked, groping wildly for conversation. Algebra wasn’t really the sexiest topic, but she didn’t have much else. She wondered what Alicia would say in a situation like this. She was probably fully equipped with flirtatious banter, ready to whip it out at a moment’s notice. In fact, she could probably get sexy in a bus station wearing a potato sack. And here Izzy was, with red wine and dim lighting, on a comfy sofa, done up like a dog’s dinner, and all she could do was enquire after Ben’s maths skills. How on earth was this night going to add up to Izzy finally becoming a woman? It was like its own algebra equation. X plus Izzy and Ben equals sex. But what the hell was X?

  But Ben didn’t seem to mind her banal chatter. He looked happy to talk about his test. ‘Ninety-three percent!’ he exclaimed happily. ‘How’d you do?’

  ‘Oh, umm... Eighty-seven?’

  Ben gave her a condescending. ‘That’s good too.’

  ‘Yeah, I know’ Izzy replied, annoyed. She had thought that was good. Until Ben had rubbed his ninety-three in her face. God, he was making it so difficult to want to have sex with him.

  With that in mind, Izzy gave up on the notion that she was going to want to do this. She would have loved to get herself whipped up into a frenzy ahead of the big event. But Ben didn’t have it in him, that was becoming obvious. Izzy picked up her glass and drained the other half of the wine, suppressing a shudder at its bitter taste. ‘Right’ she said and stood up from the sofa. She felt a bit dizzy. ‘Come on.’

  Ben looked up, shocked. ‘What, now?’

  Izzy raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought you wanted to get upstairs?’

  Ben shook himself. ‘Yeah but-’

  ‘Let’s go then’ Iz
zy said, walking out of the room, not waiting for Ben. She felt the effects of the alcohol hitting her system. She’d hoped the booze would make her feel more sexual. That’s what Alicia said it did. But she just felt wobbly.

  She walked up the stairs, grabbing hold of the bannister for ballast, the words spinning through her head. I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna do it.

  By the time she was at her bedroom, Ben had caught up. She couldn’t help but notice that he looked considerably more frightened than he had when he’d arrived. She wondered if it was because he’d expected to take charge. Well, tough luck. She’d taken the control now. She kind of liked how scared he was.

  She was starting to feel quite divorced from what she was going to do. Like she might just float up to the ceiling and watch her body do its stuff. She supposed that was the booze. Maybe that’s what Alicia meant when she said booze put you in the mood. That you just stopped caring.

  ‘Right, get on the bed’ she instructed him.

  ‘Oh’ Ben said and looked at the bed like it was going to eat him. ‘Should we not… Should we not kiss first?’

  Izzy shook her head, feeling like she wanted to laugh. ‘Nope. Take your clothes off, I’ll take mine off and we’ll just get on with it.’

  Ben’s mouth hung. ‘Izzy. You’re acting like we’re going to take a science quiz. Not…’ he trailed off, unable to find the right word.

  But Izzy found the word. It was an Alicia word. ‘Shag?’

  Ben’s face went bright red. ‘I, I wouldn’t use that word.’

  Izzy sat down on the bed and slipped off her heels, her mother’s best. ‘Look, I thought you wanted to do this?’ she asked. She began to slip one of the spaghetti straps from her shoulder, then the other. And then she was sat there with her dress at her waist, her bra exposed. Why had this seemed to matter an hour ago? It was just a body.

  Ben looked down at her and seemed to gather his gumption. ‘Alright’ he said and he undid his tie, throwing it over the chair in the corner. His shirt went next, then his trousers. He stood before her in his navy boxers, readying himself.

  Izzy knew it was the moment she was going to have sex. Unfortunately, it was also the moment the alcohol’s effects chose to leave her system. She began to feel a bit less… Easy.

  But she had her foot in the door now. No turning back. She lay back on the bed, her dress still half on, and sighed through her nose. Ben climbed on top of her and let his weight press down. He began to kiss her neck. Izzy looked up at the ceiling, noticing a weird mark on it that she’d never seen before. A brown smudge shaped like a clown eating an apple. Had it always been there?

  Ben began to work his way down to her chest, pulling at the strap of her brand-new bra. She felt it snap.

  ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed. ‘That was new!’

  Ben looked guilty. ‘Sorry. I got carried away’ he said with a rueful grin.

  Izzy was livid. Twenty quid down the drain. But this was something that happened in passionate moments, wasn’t it? Alicia probably broke three bras a week like this. ‘It’s alright’ Izzy said, managing to smile. He smiled and went back to work.

  As he kissed her collarbone, she wondered if she could stitch the bra back together. She was pretty sure her mother had some thread that matched the colour. But threading a needle took her forever. The last time she’d tried to do it, ten minutes went by with no success, and her mother had been forced to intervene. But the button got sewed onto those jeans in the end, so she was able to go out and meet Alicia at the cinema. They’d seen Batman Begins, which was brilliant and then gone for a McDonalds afterwards. Izzy had been torn between a Big Mac and Filet O’ Fish, but in the end, she’d gone for the Big…

  She suddenly realised there were eyes on her. Ben had stopped kissing her and he was looking at her, worry in his eyes. ‘Is this alright?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah’ Izzy exclaimed, feigning enthusiasm.

  ‘It’s just, you looked a bit…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Distracted’ Ben frowned.

  Izzy shrugged, still lying down, which was harder than it looked. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Fine?’ Ben repeated.

  Izzy knew she’d picked the wrong word. ‘I mean, this is good. Nice. Good. Keep doing it.’

  Ben looked unsure and then seemed to decide he’d had enough encouragement to proceed. He bent down to her stomach and begin to kiss it. It tickled. Izzy spat out a laugh.

  ‘God’s sakes, Izzy’ Ben exclaimed, frustrated, looking back up at her.

  ‘I can’t help it if you found my ticklish spot!’ Izzy said defensively.

  Ben got up and sat at the edge of the bed.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Izzy asked. ‘Why are you stopping?’

  ‘I’m obviously not doing this right’ Ben said petulantly, folding his arms across his naked chest.

  Izzy sat up next to him. ‘Ben, I’m sorry. I’m just nervous. Tell you what? I could…’ She stopped to think about what she was going to offer. But it was no good. She was going to have to do something she really didn’t want to, or this sex thing was never going to get off the ground. ‘I could give you a…’ She nodded at his crotch.

  Ben raised an eyebrow and Izzy could tell she had his attention. ‘Yeah?’

  She nodded, trying to seem keen. ‘Yes. If you want?’

  He nodded, and Izzy knew she was going to have to follow through. She got off the bed and onto her knees, in front of Ben. He grinned impishly and slid down his boxers. Izzy was confronted with her first (and as it turned out, last) penis. She made no move toward it.

  ‘Are you gonna do it, then?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Yep. Just give me a sec’ Izzy said, still locked up, looking at this ridiculous and unattractive bit of anatomy. It was funny because there was nothing else about Ben’s face or body that would cause you to expect he had something that looked like this in his pants. It was like Izzy taking her clothes off to reveal a clown nose growing out of her belly button. It was absurd.

  And it was losing shape by the second. ‘Erm, Izzy…’ Ben pressed, and Izzy moved her face an inch nearer to it. And stopped again, frozen. Several seconds passed as she tried to push herself forward.

  But she couldn’t do it. She knew this was as close as she’d get to Ben. Ever. She looked up at him. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t think… I don’t think I can.’

  Ben pulled his pants back up, secreting his manhood. Izzy felt relief that it was out of her sight. She sighed and stood. Ben stood too. He looked at Izzy. ‘This was your idea.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘This was all your idea’ he said, pink in his cheeks.

  Izzy nodded. She was flushed with embarrassment. She just wanted Ben to go now so she could cry. She’d failed. She would never have sex. She would be a virgin for life. While other girls jumped onto boys’ mid-sections with abandon, she’d be forever at the window of normal life, looking in, a distant observer of what other people made look easy. But none of it was easy. Not for Izzy Mortimer. There was something wrong with her, something missing.

  Ben coughed, and Izzy looked up to see he was fully dressed again. ‘Shall I just go then?’ he asked miserably. Izzy longed to say, ‘Yes. Go.’ But she wasn’t that kind of girl and instead she said, ‘No, please don’t.’

  Ben looked thrown. ‘What should we do, then?’

  Izzy threw her hands up, no idea what kind of activity followed a failed attempt at sex.

  ‘You wanna watch a video?’ Ben asked kindly.

  Izzy felt terrible. She’d been so mean to Ben all evening and he’d only done his best, same as her. He didn’t deserve her contempt. ‘Sure.’

  They went downstairs and Ben went to the video shelf (they were still a VHS house) and began to call out suggestions. In the end, they picked something old, Austin Powers. They’d both seen it many times, but it didn’t matter. It was just something to do so they could feel normal again. Although Izzy winced every time the titular character said his catchphrase. ‘Shagad
elic, baby.’

  Four

  It was Saturday, thank god. No school. Izzy could just stay in bed all morning and quietly think about what a mess she was.

  Only the phone kept ringing. It had been ringing all morning. Izzy didn’t pick it up. She knew it was Alicia. Izzy couldn’t face talking to her. So she ignored it and waited for Alicia to lose interest.

  Around lunchtime, Izzy got up and went downstairs, transferring her misery to a new location. She didn’t have long to let it fester. Simon busted in the front door, loud and excitable. ‘Sis, we got any of that cereal? The chocolate one?’ he called through to her by way of a greeting as he burst into the hall, slinging his bag on the floor.