AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Me:What do you mean?
Tim:Are you on here for something long term? Or do you just want to hook up?
I stare at the screen, my heart in my mouth. Oh my God. Am I really about to type this? I take a deep breath.
Me:I’m just looking to hook up. You?
Tim:Yeah, sounds cool. And you’re gorgeous! I’m totally up for that.
It’s clumsy, but at least it’s a compliment.
Tim:You wanna meet somewhere? Have a drink?
I blow out the breath.
Me:Sounds great. Can you suggest somewhere?
Tim:Murphy’s Law in Courtenay Place? At six?
Me:Okay!
Tim:See you then.
Me:Yes, see you!
I toss the phone onto the bed again and fall back, my hands covering my face. Holy shit. I’m actually going to do this.
It’s only three p.m. so I have three hours yet. Too nervous to stay in, I gather up my jacket and purse and head out.
I walk down to the cinema and pick one of the movies that’s about to start. It’s some kind of historical drama, but two hours later, when I finally begin the walk back to the hotel, I can’t recall anything about it.
It’s not really surprising. Even though I tell myself that virginity is just a state of being, I’d be an idiot if I didn’t accept that having sex for the first time is a big thing. Of course it is. Nearly every magazine article and book you read, and every movie you watch, tells you that sex is what makes the world go around. And the older you get, the more the thought of doing it is going to be nerve-wracking. But at least I’m trying to rectify the issue.
When I get back to the hotel, I take a shower, pluck out any stray hairs that remain after the wax I gave myself at home, slather myself in moisturizer, spray on a decent amount of perfume, and dress in what I hope is a sexy combination of lace bra and knickers beneath my dark jeans and a red top, because Charlie said guys think it’s sexy. I nearly always wear my hair up in a scruffy bun, but tonight I leave it down in the hope that he might like to run his fingers through it. I apply a decent amount of makeup because it gives me confidence.
When I’m done, I stare at myself in the full-length mirror.
The clothes and makeup are good, but it doesn’t look like me. I feel as if I’m on stage, wearing a costume. I suppose that is what I’m doing. I’m putting on an act tonight, behaving as if I do this all the time. I guess it makes it easier if I pretend to be someone else. Real Alice hasn’t kissed a guy since she was sixteen, and that was only a playful peck. Sexy Alice is experienced and has one-night stands all the time. She’d totally be comfortable with going back to a guy’s place and letting him strip off her clothes and have mad monkey sex with her.
Oh jeez. Deep breaths, girl.
I’ve already texted Charlie, and she messages me back, saying:Good luck! Let me know how it goes! Just relax and try to enjoy it!
I reply with:Will do!Then, at 5:45, I slip my phone into my back pocket, grab my jacket and purse, and head out again.
It takes me about ten minutes to walk down to the bar on Courtenay Place. By the time I arrive, my heart’s racing and my mouth has gone dry. I’m so nervous, but I want to do this so much that I force myself to cross the busy road and head toward the Irish bar on the corner. I double check my phone as I walk, reminding myself what he looks like.
Although it’s a Tuesday, it’s close to Christmas, and the bar is busy, with people milling about outside, gathering with drinks to chat, or sitting at the tables, sharing food. I was hoping he’d wait for me outside, but I can’t see him anywhere. After scanning the crowd, I go through the open doors into the dimly lit interior.
I pause on the threshold, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Then I hear someone say, “Alice?”
I turn and see a guy standing there, beer in hand. He’s only an inch or so taller than me, and I’m only five foot seven. But that doesn’t matter, right? He’s not bad looking, although his hair is a lot longer than it was in his photo, and hangs around the collar of his jacket with a kind of surf-dude look.
“Tim?” I ask, breathless.
He nods. “Want a drink?”
“Um, okay, thanks.” I follow him to the bar, feeling a little queasy.
