16.
Daisy
I was no longer a virgin.
In a way, I expected something to have changed about me, something that other people would be able to notice. That I’d look different or something, though of course that was not the case at all. Well, I looked more tired, maybe, since Ian and I had been up most of the night having sex, then spent most of Sunday together, doing the same. My inner thighs were so sore, but in a good way.
When Caroline texted and asked me if I wanted to meet up at Failte after I got out of work, I said yes. Ian had left early because he had a meeting with a manager at a big petrochemical plant, somewhere out near Worcester, who was looking to switch security firms.
When I got to Failte, she was sitting at one of the small tables, with two bottles of IPA.
“I took the liberty of ordering you a drink,” she said.
“Awesome, thank you,” I said as I slid onto the smooth
wooden chair. I was trying to contain my grin but not doing a very good job of
it. She looked toward the door. “Ian’s not here with you?”
“No, he’s at a meeting. Well, he might be done with it now, but it was out in
Central Mass.”
She nodded. “Got it.”
“So,” I said. “What’d you think? Isn’t he great?”
She didn’t say anything right away, but then just shook her head. “Sorry, Daisy,” she said finally. “I just didn’t like him.”
For a second, I thought she was joking. But then she
continued. “I really don’t think he should be the one you lose your virginity
to.”
I tried to keep my face neutral. I took a sip of my beer. “Really? Why?”
“I just . . . don’t.” She pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. I’d really
thought she’d like him, and the fact that she seemed so against him was quite
surprising. “What is it you don’t like about him?” She’d been right there at
the table—hadn’t she been able to see that magnetism between us? A complete stranger had—surely she had been able
to, too! “And are you being serious right now?” I asked. “I thought you guys
really seemed to hit it off. You were laughing at what he said. You were making
jokes with him.”
“I was trying to be nice. And what jokes?”
“The joke about the wasabi?” That was the only one I could remember right then,
but I knew there had been more.
“That wasn’t a joke,” she said. “Though I think he took it as one.”
“So you really didn’t like him.”
She shook her head. “Honestly? I liked Billy better. And he seemed into you.”
“But I don’t like him like that. What didn’t you like
about Ian?”
“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “He just . . . he just seemed kind of
arrogant, I guess. But subtly. Not like some grandiose, showboating asshole,
which maybe would make things easier. It was really subtle, and at first I wasn’t even sure why I didn’t like him, because you’re right—he’s hot as fuck, but
he’s also arrogant as fuck. And kind of possessive. You guys aren’t even going
out.”
“He didn’t seem that possessive. And . . . we kind of are.”
She winced. “What?”
“We haven’t talked about it or anything, but one of the girls that was sitting near us, she came out of the
bathroom when I was in there and she
asked me if Ian was my boyfriend. It kind of caught me off guard, actually, but
I said he was.”
Caroline sighed. “Just because you say he is to some person you don’t even know
doesn’t mean he actually is. And if you guys haven’t talked about it yet, then
I think you should just run the other direction, while you still can.”
“Run in the other direction?” I said with a laugh. “I work with him, Caro. He’s my boss. It doesn’t matter what direction I run—I’ll just be seeing him again next time I go back to work.”
“Yeah,” she said slowly, “that’s the other thing.
Don’t you think it’s a little weird to get involved with your boss? Isn’t that
against some policy or something? Or just a bad idea, career-wise?”
“It’s not maybe the most . . . orthodox thing ever,” I said, “but I certainly
wouldn’t be the first person to ever get involved with her boss. And besides,
the whole thing is very exciting. I feel like I deserve some—good—excitement in
my life after this whole thing with Noah.”
“No one deserves something like that thing with Noah.”
“So maybe he’ll leave me alone if I’m with someone else. That will be the way he gets it through his head.
I left Failte feeling confused and very much like the wind had been taken out of my sails. I’d been practically skipping down the street to get here, thinking that I could finally tell Caroline that it had happened—I was no longer a virgin!—but I had ended up leaving without having said a word of that.
I was still thinking about this as I walked up to my apartment, digging for my keys out of my purse. How was Caroline going to react when I told her—
“Daisy.”
I froze. It was Noah.
“What are you doing?” I said. He was sitting on the front steps of my building; there was no way that I could sneak past him. He stood up and took a step toward me.
“Daisy,” he said, a relieved smile crossing his face.
“Daisy, where have you been? Your car was here, but you weren’t, and then I saw
some taxi pull up and you got out with some guy. Who was that?”
If he was saying that he saw me get out of a taxi with Ian, then that meant he
was here Saturday night. “You were here on Saturday?” I said.
“I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I’d swing by
and see if you were home. And, as I said, I saw your car, so I figured you’d be
there. I know you haven’t gotten your phone issues resolved yet, because you still haven’t responded to any
of my messages, but that’s okay. I’m around here a lot, so it’s easy enough to
just stop over.”
“Yeah, except it’s usually considered good manners to give a little bit of
notice first, isn’t it?”
“So. How have you been?”
“I’ve been fine. But I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t be hanging out on my
doorstep when I get home. It’s . . . it’s
weird, okay? You just need to stop all of this, Noah. Please. You seem like a
nice guy; I’m sure there’s a girl out there who would really be able to
appreciate that. I’m certainly not the only girl in the world, you know.”
“I know you’re not,” he said. “And that’s what makes this so special. With so many people in the world, the fact that we finally found each other is . . . well, it’s amazing. I just need to help you see it.”
“No, you don’t.” I felt emboldened. Also, I felt
pretty sick of his shit. I wanted this to stop. It had gone on for long enough.
“This needs to stop, Noah. I’ve been trying to be nice to you, and I don’t want
to hurt your feelings, but you’re really not getting it through your head.
You’re not hearing me. I am not
interested in you. I’m not! I have a boyfriend, actually. That’s the guy
you saw me getting out of the cab with. So I need you to leave me alone. Get on
with your life, because you’re just
wasting your time on me. We’re not going to be together. I’m not sure what gave
you the idea that we would, but it’s not going to happen, okay? And if you
don’t stop showing up at my place and following me around, I’m going to have to
call the police. Which I don’t want to do, but I will, because it really feels
like you’re leaving me no choice.”
He kept his eyes on me the whole time, his face blank. But then, when he was
sure I was done speaking, his face broke out into a grin.
“I know you don’t mean that,” he said.
“No, but I do. I mean exactly that. I should have told you this a while ago. I’m going inside now. And if I look out the window and see that you’re still here, I’m calling the police.”
I marched past him, my keys in hand. Isn’t that what they said to do in women’s safety classes—carry your keys in your hand when you were walking alone or through a parking lot at night? Just feeling the cool metal in my hand calmed me a little, though I doubted I’d really be able to stab Noah’s eye out or something with them, if he were to lunge at me. But he didn’t; he simply stood there as I walked past, and I could feel his gaze boring into me as I hurried to unlock the front door.
I didn’t turn around to look when I finally got the door unlocked, but I quickly slipped in and slammed it shut behind me. It was a heavy door, and part of me was expecting that his arm was going to snake through at the last second before it shut, but it didn’t. I breathed a sigh of relief and then walked through the small lobby to my own door. What the hell was wrong with me? Why was he completely undeterred by everything that I said?
When my mother called the next evening, I felt for sure it was because she had some sort of sixth sense about my virginity, and she knew that I had lost it. Usually, more time elapsed between our interactions, especially when they ended as they had the last time we met up.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, trying to keep the weariness out of my voice as much as I could.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m good.”
“Am I interrupting your work? If I am, I’ll call back
at another time.”
I glanced at my laptop, which I’d placed next to me on the couch to answer the
phone. Yes, I’d just been using it—no, it hadn’t been to work on any writing. I
was on Facebook, looking at Ian’s profile, scrolling through pictures,
wondering if I should friend him or not. Since we were sleeping together, the
obvious answer seemed yes, but I wasn’t sure
since we were keeping things hush-hush.
“No, you’re not interrupting anything,” I said. “How
are you?”
“Quite good, thank you. I was just working on my own manuscript, as a matter of
fact, but thought I’d take a little break to give you a call. I’ve really found
momentum to be the key to productivity,
but everyone needs a break now and then, right?”
“Sure,” I said. “Glad to hear your writing is going so well.”
“So everything is good with you? Have you resolved any
of those issues that you brought up the last time we got together?”
“If you’re asking whether I’ve quit my job or not, the answer is no. And I
still have a stalker, and yes, I’m still considering moving.”
“Well, do you remember how I mentioned that my colleague was writing a book
about the quarter-life crisis? We were talking a little bit about your situation, and he said that he’d be more than
happy to discuss things with you. He’s learned quite a bit from the research
he’s conducted, and I think it would be great if you would get in touch with
him and set up a time to meet.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” I said. “Listen, Mom, I am actually kind of busy right now, so I think I better go. If you want to meet up for coffee or something, maybe we can do that.”
“That might be nice,” she said. “My schedule’s pretty busy though. So I don’t want to set anything up yet, but I’ll get back to you. And if you change your mind about Carl and letting him talk to you, just let me know! I think it’d be really good for you. Very helpful. Beneficial. Extremely—”
“Okay, Mom, I get it,” I said. “I’ll talk to you
later. Good luck with your writing.”
“Same to you!” she said, a little too jovially.
I tried not to roll my eyes when I hung up the phone. Sometimes my mother felt more like a competitive sister than a mother. Part of me was just dying to call her back and say I just lost my virginity to the hottest guy you have ever seen! but that would just start a whole conversation I didn’t want to have with her.
And besides. Things were actually going really well for me. Aside from the fact that I still had a stalker, I could not remember a time when I’d been happier. Having sex had suddenly made the world seem like a whole different place, so much more exciting, so many more possibilities.