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“You were a virgin?” I repeat it back to her as if it is going to change; as if I misheard her.
Hannah just nods in response.
I want to pry, I want to dig into why she didn’t tell me, but as I open my mouth to speak, I clamp it shut again. We sit in silence for a while, the only sound in the room coming from the cabs down below.
“I don’t understand why you hated me for that, though…”
The look she pins me with has my balls practically shrinking into me, anything to protect me from the wrath I’m about to endure.
“Are you serious right now?!” She shoots upright in bed before turning around to glare at me.
“Hannah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” I sigh as I reach to grab her hand. To my relief, she doesn’t shove it away despite her clear irritation. “That was a really long time ago…can you refresh my memory on what I did?”
Hannah slowly pivots toward me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She nervously nibbles her lower lip as she looks down at me, wearing an expression of pain and confusion, and it’s then I realize just how much my actions all those years ago hurt her. The thought that I am the cause of her distress makes my stomach sink.
“When we—” She pauses as she flails her arms around in my direction.
“Had sex?” My brows shoot up. I should be concerned, and I am, but something about the way she seems to be reverting to the level of comfort discussing sex she had at eighteen is adorable.
“Yes, that.” Hannah clears her throat as her eyes meet mine. “The night we had sex at the beach house, I was a virgin. That night was fine, great, even. You were a perfect gentleman.”
I don’t know where she’s going with this. My memory of that night is hazy, but I can remember how embarrassed I was. I lasted less than two minutes and I was humiliated. Now, as I look back, I think I remember her being aware of how quick it was, but with this new information, I’m wondering if I fabricated that in my nervous shame.
“Sounds like it went fine…”
“It did. It was great, everything I could have hoped for in losing my virginity. But…” She adjusts her position on the plush bed, crossing and uncrossing her legs, biting her lip to hold back a sob. A single tear drops from her long, dark lashes, quickly swiped away with the pad of her thumb. “The next morning wasn’t like that.”
I don’t remember much beyond my embarrassment the night we were together, but I remember the next morning with startling clarity. When Hannah woke up wanting to talk, I went on the defense. The humiliation I felt from the night before had only compounded and the thought of talking about it gave me far more bite than the situation called for.
Hindsight is 20/20 and all that.
“When I asked you to talk about it, I wanted to tell you I was a virgin before we…had sex. Everything happened so fast, we didn’t talk, and I knew we had to have that conversation. But you told me to stop being dramatic and that it didn’t matter. So I made the decision that I wasn’t going to allow you that close to me again.” A pained chuckle escapes her, driving a knife through my gut. “Clearly did well on that front.”
I pull myself up to sit against the wall, each breath a reminder of the icy chill brought on by the old hotel in December. My heart aches for her, urging me to reach out and pull her close. Yet something inside me holds back, knowing that this conversation has to be had without any physical contact. The sheets are rumpled around us, their softness a stark contrast to the hard wall behind me. It feels strange that we’re having this talk in a bed, yet I find myself thinking it’s somewhat poetic given how we got here.
“Hannah, I—”
“I’m not finished,” she asserts, holding her finger up to shush me.
I wave in front of me, gesturing for her to continue.
“We had always been mean to each other. Kids and all that, picking on one another. Hell, for a while there I thought it was because you liked me.”
Hannah’s pained laugh pulls me forward from the wall. I lean in to be closer without touching her and invading her power. “Han—”
“Now, looking back, I realize it was just because I wanted that to be why. That year, I had the dumbest crush on you. I tried to fight it off, I tried to act like it didn’t bother me when I saw you with other girls, but in retrospect it was obvious. I liked you.”
Her words shouldn’t be painful to reminisce on, but they’re just another reminder of how royally I screwed up. The pained crack in her voice guts me as I knot my fingers together, anything to resist reaching out to touch her.
“Well…” She lets out a long exhale before continuing, “That day it went from playfully mean to just downright nasty…in both directions. I just figured that’s how you always felt.”
“No.”
“What?”
“No, Hannah. That’s not how I felt at all. I was terrified that night. I had had sex with one other person and it was like six months prior. In case you don’t remember, I wasn’t exactly fending off girls growing up. I didn’t have sex until sophomore year of college. So, you were the only person I’d been with in a while.”
Hannah’s hurt expression morphs into confusion.
