“No but . . .” I sighed. “I don’t want to be a virgin. I’m not like those moral people who want to wait for The One. Obviously I would love for it to be a boyfriend, but realistically, it hasn’t happened yet so why would it happen now? At this point, I would take any offers. Well, most,” I added.
She stared at me in confusion. “Wait,” she said. “I don’t get it. Are you waiting for a particular reason? Did it never almost happen with someone drunk or something?”
I sighed. It hadn’t and I didn’t really know why. This was it—the big question that I never really knew the answer to. Lara thought it was because I was scared. I thought it was because I was scarred post–Bite Job, but really, it seemed like it was just bad luck and a severe shortage of opportunities.
“I guess . . . I guess because I went to an all-girls school? I was kind of a late bloomer, and then there weren’t many opportunities,” I explained.
“But what about uni? Freshers’ Week?” she asked.
“I snogged random guys but none of them ever asked me to go back with them,” I confessed.
“Maybe they could sense you weren’t slutty?” she suggested.
I looked up. This was a new theory. “Wait, that’s a thing?” I asked curiously.
“Yeah, definitely! I mean, a guy can tell if you’re the kind of girl who’s going to go home with him or not. They could probably sense . . . well, not your virginity, per se, but that you weren’t really easy. It’s a good thing, Ellie,” she said encouragingly.
“Huh,” I replied. “I don’t know. Lara thinks I give off desperate vibes. That’s what our argument was really about,” I admitted. “And that night out? I made her come with me to find someone to lose my virginity to. I’ve kind of sworn to myself that I’ll lose my virginity by graduation so I can take a chlamydia test like a normal person.”
Emma snorted with laughter. “Wait? You want chlamydia?”
It was my turn to look at her like she was crazy. “Obviously not. I just want to be eligible to do the test.”
She looked at me in bewilderment. “You’re going to have to explain.”
I fidgeted uncomfortably in my seat. I had never really explained to anyone why I was so desperate to lose my virginity. My girlfriends from school kind of understood it because at one point they’d been in the same position. Even if it was a while ago.
“Well, I guess . . . it feels like ever since we hit sixteen—or actually, thirteen for my friend Lara—that everyone started this whole thing about losing their virginity,” I said. “It was like, I don’t know, a competition. Then all the conversations were about sex, and I couldn’t join in. I felt so . . . out of it. Now everyone’s having one-night stands and getting with their friends with benefits. And again, I’m the only one who can’t join in. It’s lonely . . . and honestly? I want to fit in.”
“Ellie,” she said, touching my arm with concern. “I’m really sorry if I ever made you feel like that by going on and on about sex.”
“No,” I cried out, hitting her arm. “You’re my friend and I love hearing your sex stories. You show me what I’m missing and what my life will be like one day.” I grinned.
She looked worried. “It’s . . . not always as glamorous as it sounds, though. I know girls like me who have had abortions, and then girls who actually got chlamydia but realized too late and now they’re infertile. Seriously, El, how come you want to do this chlamydia test so desperately?”
“It’s a symbol,” I explained. “You can only do the chlamydia test once you’ve had sex, right? And the majority of university students have had sex, which I’m missing out on with every day that goes by, so for me to be like everyone else and be able to relate to my friends’ stories, I need to have sex and do the test. It represents the dream.”
“Chlamydia?”
“No, sex. I’ve heard it’s meant to be pretty good.” I smiled with a faux-nonchalant shrug.
She laughed. “Okay, well, I love a challenge so you’ve come to the right place. I’ll help you lose your virginity and we can vlog about it.”
My eyes widened in alarm. “Um, I’m not blogging about my virginity to the world.”
“Why not?” she suggested reasonably. “You’re the one who wanted to help other people like you. I bet there are loads of twenty-one-year-old virgins who don’t want to feel alone. We can discuss pubes too . . .”
“Oh God, pubes.” I groaned. “I forgot about them. I need to figure out what to do with mine before we start vlogging about my virginity and vagina to the world.”