Page 80 of People Skills

Poor Ettie, I think, but I smile and nod at Hillary.

‘Good idea,’ I say.

‘And,’ Hillary continues. ‘I admit, I have an ulterior motive. I’m going to invite Lana. She and Ettie always got along so well, I know Ettie misses her, and if Lana comes, she and Xavier can talk.’

‘Oh.’ I am struggling to keep my face from reacting, from showing how much I hate this plan, how much I am feeling it in my body, a visceral reaction, a sick feeling, a rush of no, no, no. ‘That’s an interesting idea. Does Xavier know about this plan?’ I say.

‘No, and don’t tell him. I’ll see if Lana will come first. And maybe we don’t tell him at all, keep it a surprise.’

I think of the essay, ‘His Body’. The fact they’re emailing again. Lana will come. There’s no way she won’t.

‘Right. Well. That sounds like, like…’ I trail off. My hands feel shaky. I am appalled at my own reaction to this. I need to get a grip.

‘I’m hoping you’ll come too, if you’re free, Charlotte. Xavier will be more comfortable if it feels less like a set-up.’

Oh good, I’m the decoy, the seat filler again, the facilitator. I feel absurdly like I want to cry, and this reaction is scaring me. How did I become so attached to Xavier, how did I become so possessive, how did I acquire all these feelings for him? There is nothing between us.

I am simply lonely and horny, and my loneliness has caused me to form a crush on the nearest available man and it can all be managed away.

‘I’ll be there,’ I say. The thought of not going, and sitting at home wondering what Xavier and Lana were doing, feels more painful than just going and having it unfold in front of my eyes. He’ll sleep with her, of course—she wrote an ode to his body. And then he’ll remember everything he liked about her. Maybe now that he’s writing again, his feelings for her will be unblocked too.

As we walk back to the office, I give myself a pep talk. I have been alone and untouched and unloved for too long, and I need to open myself back up to the possibility of seeing someone. Casually. Even one kiss might do it. I simply need to fall into lust, into longing, into attraction, with someone else. Someone not Xavier. Immediately.

I walk into the office and over to Kat’s desk, trying to be casual and low key.

‘Okay, do it,’ I say. ‘Set me up with Nathan.’

‘Yes!’ Jamila squeals, listening in.

‘I’m texting him right now,’ Kat says, grabbing her phone.

‘Wait, wait, wait,’ I say, because panic and regret are already setting in.

‘No, don’t overthink, don’t hesitate, it’s in my hands now. I’m in control,’ Kat says. Kat loves to be in control—who am I to deny her this pleasure?

And suddenly, just like that, I’m dating again.

23

XAVIER IS HOVERING. So is Rex.

‘So how do you know this guy?’ Xavier asks.

It’s Friday night and I’m getting ready for my date with Nathan. I have been doing my best to maintain a physical distance between myself and Xavier throughout the week, because when I get close to him, I can smell him—in a positive way, unfortunately. It’s like my brain has latched on to his pheromones and now anytime I catch his scent, I want to get closer. I want to roll in him like Aggie on the beach when she finds a patch of seaweed. Like my friend Alice who, when she had her baby, kept marvelling, ‘I can’t stop smelling him, I am addicted to his smell.’ That’s biology in action, getting a mother to attach to her child, and I guess this is biology too, trying to keep me hooked. But I am stronger than biology.

We sat on the couch together last night, and his feet brushed mine and my heart was immediately racing even though we were both in socks, dirty socks we had been wearing all day.

This problem is going to be solved. I let the horny lion out of its cage and now I need to feed it. That’s what this date is about.

‘I don’t know him at all. He’s a friend of Kat’s,’ I say in answer to Xavier’s question.

I don’t technically know him, but I have researched him extensively: I know his entire dating and career history from Kat, I have examined almost every photo for the last two years on his social media.

‘What does he look like?’ Xavier asks. He’s made spaghetti bolognese for himself, and he’s sitting down at the table to eat it.

‘He’s cute,’ I say.

‘Show me,’ Xavier says, twirling the spaghetti on his fork.