Virgin(83)

I grabbed my phone to distract myself. Oh God, there were so many messages from Jack. I couldn’t deal with those right now. I scrolled past them and found one from Paul.


He said he thought it was amazing I was still a V and then we did it! Minimal pain. Thanks for the advice, P.

I smiled to myself. At least not all men were un-pyschologically-prepared bastards.



Lara sat on the lid of the loo and looked at me, a worried expression on her face. “Ellie, are you sure you don’t want me to read them to you?” she asked.

“For the millionth time, Lara, I don’t want you to read Jack’s messages. He rejected me. He infiltrated my private lotus and then he refused to go back there even when I invited him. And quite frankly, I don’t want to know what he has to say.” I spoke calmly. All this talk of lotuses was making me feel very Zen.

She sighed in frustration. “Okay,” she said after a pause. “What if I read them, and then if it’s an incredible apology that explains everything, I’ll tell you, and if it’s just more bollocks, we delete them and vow never to mention his name again?”

“Ugh, no,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Have you not read Harry Potter? By calling him you-know-who, you give him power. You’ve got to call him Voldemort.”

“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “So am I allowed to read Voldemort’s text?”

She really wasn’t getting my metaphor. “Okay,” I said grudgingly. “You can read Jack’s text. But not out loud.”

“Oh thank God,” she said. “Because I already read it earlier. It’s good and you need to hear it.”

“What?” I cried as I leaned forward and bath bubbles frothed up into the air. “You read it without my permission?”

“You would have done the same,” she said without looking up from my phone. “So, he hopes you feel better, he wants to take you out for dinner tonight, and he really hopes you’ll say yes. He’s buying.”

I lay back into the bath, mulling this over.

“So, shall I respond with a yes?” she asked.

I didn’t reply, still trying to figure out what my instincts were telling me. I closed my eyes and tried to meditate.

“Ellie?” she asked cautiously. “You’ve been in the bath for, like, four hours. I really don’t recommend you spend the whole day there. You look pruney.”

I sighed, opening my left eye. “No,” I said firmly. “Don’t reply. That’s not an apology or an explanation. Besides, how dare he assume I can drop everything and do dinner with him? You and Emma and I already have dinner plans.”

“I don’t care if you cancel, and I doubt Emma will either,” she said.

“That’s not the point!” I said indignantly. “He didn’t come over when I asked last night, so why should I be at his beck and call?”

She sighed. “I guess you’re right. It’s just . . . it is all kind of weird. I feel like there must be some explanation and you need to see him to figure it out. You know?”

The thought of his dying parents popped back into my brain. Maybe Lara was right.

“Well,” I said, “I suppose it would be good to get to the bottom of it.”

Lara’s face lit up and I saw her slide open my phone, ready to type out a message to Jack.

“Wait!” I called out, holding up my right hand. She stopped moving and there was silence. “If I see him, it’s on my terms. I have dinner plans with you guys and I want to keep them. So, tell him he can see me for a coffee if he wants. At . . . at three p.m. Somewhere I feel comfortable. At Planet Organic. So I can get hangover juice.”

Lara nodded fervently and tapped away on the phone. “Done!” she announced triumphantly. Within seconds the phone beeped again.

“Oh my God, he’s replied already,” she said, her eyes quickly scanning the screen. “Okay, you’re going to meet him at three p.m. outside PO. He says he’s looking forward to it.”



I sat at a small metal table, waiting for Jack to pay for my Ginger Zinger smoothie. I felt numb and quietly determined. My head was still throbbing but I had hidden the bags under my eyes with concealer, layered mascara over last night’s leftovers and forced myself out of the bath and into my favorite jeans. I now resembled a human being.

“Okay, two Ginger Zingers,” Jack announced as he slumped down onto the seat next to me.

I took the plastic cup from him and sipped it thirstily. It was like medicine. The bits of carrot, orange, honey and ginger soothed my throat and I could already feel the oxy-things working their magic on my battered immune system.