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I look and feel the same. I was achy for a day, but the feeling faded quickly. The world had been turned on its head, but somehow, it kept spinning, and no one noticed but me. Even in the classroom, Holy didn’t look at me any differently.
Rosemary is the only one of my friends that knows who I lost my virginity to. I told Cameron and Esther it was some guy from the country club, and they swooned with excitement thinking that I’d had sex with a rich man. But Rose knows the truth.
She urges me to talk to Holy. “You want more, right?” She asks on the drive to school.
I want everything. I want the man, the wedding, the white picket fence, and the handful of babies I know we’ll pop out like bunnies. But I also want to go to college and figure out what I want to do with my life. I want a career that fulfills me. I want to be happy as a person, not because I’m married and have a family, but because I do something I love. “I think so, yeah.”
“Why are you hesitant?” She asks. Rose curls her feet under her and makes herself small. “Was it not what you expected?”
Being with Holy was everything I expected and more. It was the perfect blend of pleasure and romance. If we had gone to his place, lit some candles, and put on soft music, there would have been the added pressure of expectations. What we had at the overlook was exactly what I needed. “There’s just a lot to think about.” I nibble on my bottom lip before asking the one question I’ve only asked myself since that night. “What if I wasn’t good, Rose? What if that’s the reason nothing’s changed?” Giving a voice to my fears makes me feel sick. My stomach flips over, and a nervous fluttering fills my belly.
Rosemary makes a sympathetic sound before running her hand up and down my arm. “You told him you were a virgin. He shouldn’t have expected you to do like, hardcore porn stuff the first time. And I hear guys really like to be with virgins.”
“Maybe,” I add quietly. But I’m still afraid that the reason nothing has happened between Holy and me since that fateful night is because he wasn’t impressed.
I drift through the morning in a haze. My lit and composition teacher talks about the book we’re supposed to be reading. She drones on, and I think about Holy. At lunch, Elliot sits too close to me and wraps an arm around my waist. I push him away because I don’t feel like being fondled by him today. I’ve made it clear that I’m not his girlfriend, but he thinks that means I want to be his little plaything without a label.
I’m irritated and forlorn by the time I reach Holy’s class after lunch. He looks like he always does. He’s dressed in a form-fitting, dark blue polo shirt that hugs his pectorals. His hair has started to grow out, and I almost can’t see the tattoo on his head anymore. He talks to me the same way he talks to every other student. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want me anymore. Now that he’s had me, he’s no longer interested. I’m no longer a virgin; I am damaged goods, and I don’t know what to do in the bedroom.
I barely make it through the first stack of homework that Holy puts on my desk. I flip from page to page at a leisurely pace, marking answers wrong and totaling up their scores, but my heart isn’t in it.
As the last hour of the day comes to a close, I bring the barely touched stack of papers to Holy’s desk. “Sorry I didn’t finish, Mr. Pelham. I’ll make sure to do better tomorrow.”
He gives me a frown and then quietly looks past me to the students milling about. “Are you okay, Danielle?”
I’m depressed, but men don’t like to hear about that. Cameron explicitly told me that I needed to act nonchalant and wait for the man to make the first move. But the more I wait, the more I’m starting to wonder if I did something wrong. “Can we speak after class?” I ask hopefully.
Holy nods his head. “Of course.”
No one is the wiser. It’s a simple conversation exchanged between a teacher and a student. There’s nothing to see; there’s nothing memorable.
There are only four minutes until the end of class, but they feel like they pass slowly. I pretend to tinker on my phone, but all I’m doing is scrolling through Facebook. My eyes glaze over, and I can’t even read the words in front of me, but to maintain the illusion, I keep scrolling.
The final bell rings and the class is dismissed. Everybody gets up, and there’s a bottleneck at the door for a few seconds. People quickly leave for the weekend, ready to start planning sleepovers and parties.
It isn’t until the last student leaves that I turn to look at Holy. He’s sitting at his desk quietly, his hands folded together on top. “Hey,” he greets with a slim curve of his lips.
“Hey,” I return, suddenly feeling shy.
There’s a moment of silence while we adjust to the awkwardness between us. I thought having sex would change the dynamic of our relationship. We’d spend our spare time together and have sex like bunnies. I wasn’t prepared for discomfort and the feeling of mild embarrassment.
Holy takes the lead. “How are you feeling? I-I should have asked sooner,” he says with a wince. “But I wasn’t sure what you wanted from me.”
My brow furrows in confusion. “I wanted you. I told you that.”
He starts tapping his fingers against the wood. “You’ve been pretty distant in class sincethat night.”
It’s a tale as old as time: miscommunication. I expected Holy to reach out; Holy expected me to reach out. Then no one did the reaching, and we both felt like we were out. “I guess I thought if I said something, you would think I was clingy.”
Holy snorts in amusement before leaning back in his chair to make himself comfortable. “I’d prefer clingy, frankly,” he admits. “Clingy means you care. Whatever has been going on,” he gestures at the space between us, “hasn’t felt very caring.”
I suddenly feel like a heel for listening to Cameron’s advice. What does she know? It isn’t like she has a boyfriend. “I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner.”
“I’m sorry, too,” he lowers his head to his chest. “I shouldn’t have left it on you. We were both there.”
God, he’s such a good guy. I never should have doubted how he felt about me. He was reluctant to even be with me in the first place because he didn’t want to do something he’d regret. “You know, I’ve been thinking about you ever since.”
I’ve never seduced a man before; I’ve never had to. But as I get to my feet and walk toward his desk, I feel like I’m a seductress in a bright pink dress and wedges.
