of panic at not knowing what to do and tried to keep calm.
Even since my first kisses with James Martell, I’d never really figured out how to do it. When I was young and practised kissing on my hands, I knew deep down that when it happened for real, I would magically know what to do, just like a Hollywood heroine.
But the magic had never happened. Lip Piercing started rubbing his tongue against mine. I felt the metal of his piercing rub against my gums. I was tempted to run my tongue over it but instead I resorted to my fail-safe move of copying what he was doing. As always, it didn’t really work and my slightly oversized nose bumped against his. We switched sides and I braced myself for the tongue again.
I tried to remember the advice from a YouTube video I once watched. I started to massage his tongue with mine. Was I meant to go over and around it in a circular way, or go to the side of it? Was I meant to withdraw my tongue back into my mouth afterwards?
Closing my eyes, I hoped for the best. After a few minutes, he seemed to figure out that kissing with tongues was not my speciality and went back to lip kissing. I breathed a sigh of relief that we were done with tongues.
‘Ellie!’ Lara crept up behind me. She was grinning wildly and her long, silky hair was all mussed up. Her voice was girly and unnatural as she squealed, ‘This is Angus. He’s at Oxford as well, and get this—we have so many mutual friends!’
Obviously Angus went to Oxford. I gave him my best fake smile and turned to Lara, asking, ‘Why have you suddenly become a posh dick?’ with my eyes.
She ignored my look. ‘So, who’s this? Aren’t you going to introduce us?’
I pulled Lip Piercing towards me. ‘This is, erm …’ I looked at him and he looked blankly back at me. After a few seconds of social embarrassment, I glared at him. ‘Well, aren’t you going to say what your name is?’
He looked taken aback and stuttered, ‘Uh, yeah, it’s Chris.’
Lara air-kissed him before turning back to Angus. They went over to the bar and I was left with Chris. I looked down and saw he was wearing Converse. Angus had been wearing beautiful suede loafers. I sighed, but Chris grinned and pulled me towards him. We started kissing again and I wrapped my arms around him, trying to let myself enjoy it. He may have been the only misfit in the club, but at least he was a misfit who fancied me.
We were interrupted by bright, glaring lights. Chris broke away from me. ‘Oh shit, the club’s closing. I’d better find my friend and head off,’ he said.
‘Oh God, yeah. Me, too. I need to find Lara.’
‘OK then, see you,’ he said and walked off.
My mouth dropped open in shock. I wasn’t expecting him to suggest a spring wedding, but he hadn’t even bothered to ask for my number or to kiss me goodbye. His brief positive impact on my self-esteem slid away and I felt ten times uglier than I had at the beginning of the night. It had been more fun getting ready at home with Lara than it was to take part in this meat market.
Suddenly, I couldn’t believe I’d been considering giving my virginity to a guy I met in a club, who had a lip piercing, no less. And he didn’t even want me. I felt a tear stinging my left eye and stubbornly brushed it away. I wasn’t going to cry over some unattractive emo.
Then another tear came. I sat on a leather sofa in a dark corner of the club. I knew I would be able to laugh about this tomorrow with Lara, but right now it wasn’t funny. It just validated all the insecurities I’d tried to banish along with my moustache in Year Ten. Why had I expected more?
This was what happened on every night out I had pulled, since starting uni. The guy just left, or took my number, promising to arrange drinks, which he never did. I shouldn’t be surprised—I was used to it. I closed my eyes and stayed there alone until the urge to cry lessened and I got up to find Lara.
She was outside snogging Angus. I stood there, waiting for her to kiss him goodnight. The bouncer looked me up and down and winked. ‘You going home alone, darling? You don’t have to, you know.’
Of course, the only person who wanted to take me home was the old, overweight bouncer. He started leering down my dress, so I pulled my coat over my shoulders and turned away. My drunkenness faded into acute sobriety as I walked towards the bus stop. Lara and Angus followed, hand in manicured hand.
THE MORNING AFTER, I woke up to find myself splayed out across my double bed. I yawned widely and stretched my arms across the mass of pillows under me. Then I sat up straight. I was in the middle of my bed, which I was meant to be sharing with Lara. Where the hell was she?
I grabbed my silver metal glasses from my bedside table, which I wore strictly only in the privacy of my bedroom, and I hobbled towards the window to pull open the thick curtains.
‘OWWWWW, GET OFF ME!’
I screamed in alarm at the unfamiliar male voice coming from my floor, and jumped over him to the window. I yanked open the curtains and blinked as light flooded the room. My eyes gradually adjusted and the fuzzy male lump on my floor turned into Lara curled up on the floor with Angus-from-last-night. His face was bright red where I had stood on it and he was rubbing his eyes angrily. Lara was lying next to him on her front, naked apart from a black bra. They had my throw draped over them, but it was only half covering Angus’ Male Zone.
I stared in silence at them as my brain took in the scene. Slowly, I asked, ‘Why are you both on my bedroom floor?’
Lara groaned and rolled over onto her back. She pulled the throw over her body, leaving Angus totally exposed, and I tried not to stare at his trimmed blond pubes creeping up his six-pack in a snail trail. She yawned loudly and said, ‘I can’t believe how uncomfortable your floor is. You could have given us your bed.’
It all came back to me. Last night at the bus stop, Lara had begged me to let Angus come back to mine, because he was in London visiting a friend so they couldn’t go back to his. I had been so depressed and drunk that I had agreed, on the condition that they couldn’t have my bed. Clearly they had accepted my offer.
I stared at them wordlessly, then looked down at myself to check that I wasn’t also half-naked. I was wearing an oversized T-shirt and last night’s black knickers. Wordlessly, I climbed over them, went into the bathroom and closed the door.
My head was throbbing and I had just found my best friend lying naked on my tiny bedroom floor with a guy I had fancied. I was hung over, jealous and irrationally angry.
I needed to shower away my feelings and last night’s sweat before I went back out as a normal, happy-for-my-best-friend human being. I pulled my T-shirt over my head, slid my knickers off and climbed into the bathtub.
As my second foot touched the bottom of the tub, I slipped backwards, falling onto my back with a thud. I screamed in pain and swore as loudly as I could.
Rubbing my sore back, I sat up and inspected my hand. It had some white stuff on it and I realised it was probably the hair removal cream from yesterday that I had spent hours washing off.
Then a horrendous thought came to my mind. There were other things that looked white and gloopy. Sexual things that had nothing to do with my hair removal cream. OH
