She turns to me with a look of shock. “Are you two finally together? I mean, I thought you guys were looking at each other in an even more gooey way than usual, but—wow.That was akiss.”
I make an excited squealing sound. “I know, right?”
“Spill it, Liu,” she orders, even as she digs into a box and starts pulling out a stack ofSockton Abbeyshirts.Typical Emily—she’s too practical to sit and gossip when there’s work to be done.Though she clearly wants the gossip, too, and I’m super happy to have someone to share it with.
I knew Emily back in high school, but we didn’t become friends until after. She was a quiet, studious kid who tended to get ultra-focused on whatever computer project or accelerated learning she was working on. Whereas I was a thoroughly mediocre student dealing with the angst of my mom leaving us by rebelling in the lamest ways possible—refusing to readBeowulfon the grounds that it promotes animal cruelty (though probably it didn’t), and trying to get my fellow students to strike (they definitely didn’t). Wearing a fake nose ring. Randomly deciding to join band, and then when I was told that the best instrument for someone of my size would be the piccolo or maybe the clarinet, insisting I play the tuba instead.
High school wasn’t exactly my peak years.
But a couple years ago, Emily and I met up again at a party, and we got along really well. When I found out she was doing social media freelance work for various corporations and small businesses, I knew she’d be perfect to take over all the social media stuff I didn’t have the attention span for—which was pretty much all of it. It’s a part-time gig for her, but has eaten up a lot more hours since we’ve been getting ready for the re-launch.
For now, though, I just want to tell her all about how I’ve been making out with Brendan. So I fill her in on the wedding, and on the incredible Casual Dating Plan and how that will hopefully lead to the even more incredible Brendan Is My Boyfriend Outcome.
Emily has stopped pulling t-shirts out of boxes by the end of this and is looking at me like my old band instructor when I wobbled in under the weight of an instrument almost as big as I was. “So you guys are going to be dating other people. Both of you.”
I shrug. “We need to keep it casual. He can’t do the relationship thing yet—he can barely say the word without panicking. So this way, there’s no pressure on him.”
She nods slowly. “Because of the panic disorder he has. Because of his really bad marriage.”
“Yeah, that.” I pause. “It’s not just the bad marriage, though. He had the disorder before that.”
“Really?”
I know Brendan wouldn’t mind if I told her the rest of it. He doesn’t treat it as a secret; he just doesn’t talk about it much. “His dad was a really bad guy,” I say. “He’s actually in prison now, for abuse—he’s been in jail since Brendan was three.”
Emily’s eyes widen. “Wow. Like he beat up Brendan’s mom?”
“What she turned him in for was abusing Brendan,” I say, feeling the familiar anger that bubbles up every time I think of someone hurting Brendan like that. “But yeah, I’m sure he was really rough to her, too.” Neither of them ever go into details, and I haven’t wanted to press, because god, that would have been brutal enough to live through once. I don’t want to make either of them relive it just to satisfy my curiosity.
“Wow,” she says again. “Okay, yeah, I can see him having issues. So you’re dating other people and each other. And making out a lot. But you’re not sleeping together yet.”
My heart rate picks up, and I let out a little breath. “No, it’s—we’re casual. And I don’t do casual sex.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Even with Brendan?”
“Yeah.” I pick a loose thread from aSocktor Whoshirt. “It’s not like you’re big on casual sex yourself, you know.”
“I’m not into sex with someone I barely know,” she agrees. “But you and Brendan—I don’t know, I saw that kiss. You both are dying to bone.”
“I didn’t say I don’twantto.” I toss a shirt at her. Yeah, I want to sleep with Brendan. Way more than I’ve ever wanted to in my life—and that was even before we started making out.There’s something Emily doesn’t know, though. Neither, for that matter, does Brendan. Or anyone.
I’m a twenty-four-year-old virgin.
This probably isn’t the most shocking thing in the world, once one knows the tuba and/orBeowulfstories. But I’ve built a career making sex jokes with sock puppets, and I’m good enough at it that everyone assumes I know what I’m talking about.The truth is, I like people thinking I’ve got some experience. I know I shouldn’t be ashamed for my lack thereof—it’s not like I haven’t had opportunity—but I can’t help but feel kind of childish when I think about it.
Also, I make a sock puppet show. Combine that with my five-foot, small frame and my propensity for wearing t-shirts with cartoon characters on them, and I’ve already got childish covered.
Even still, I’m a romantic. I don’t want to just go out and have sex. I want it to be with someone I’m in love with, someone who’s in love with me.
Those words tug at my chest. I can’t even let myself think them. Brendan and I aren’t there yet. I mean, Brendan can’t say the word “girlfriend” without a panic attack.There’s no way he can even think about being in love with me.
That is, if he’s not still in love, deep down, with Candace.
I swallow past the huge lump in my throat, fidgeting with the t-shirts like I care very much about them being stacked perfectly.
“Okaaaaay,” Emily says. “No sex, because it’s casual.”
“Right.”
