Page 87 of Old Acquaintances

“He wouldn’t sleep with me.” I gauged his response.“Because I’m a virgin.”

Tucker blinked. He did not find that information to be as shocking as I assumed.

I tied my fingers together, reminding myself thatthiswas the moment I should back out. I hadn’t asked him anything, he never needed to know why I drove four hours to his bedroom.

My eyes landed on his dresser. I wouldn’t be able to do this if he had pictures of his family or his friends staring at us, but he only had one photo next to a pair of boxers and an empty beer can.

It was a picture of me.

Two birthdays ago I had given it to him: a polaroid of me blowing a kiss that I glued to a one-dollar cardboard frame from Michael’s. I had said, “You know, because you’re so obsessed with me.”

Tucker frowned and threw hands out. “Ella, what are you doing here?”

I blurted, “I want you to have sex with me.”

He froze. His eyes grew. His cheeks even turned a shade of pink. “Is this a joke?”

“No.” I pulled my boots off.

“Why are you taking your shoes off?”

“Because I want you to have sex with me.”

“Stop saying that!” he demanded. “Put your shoes back on.”

“I just need to not be a virgin anymore,” I said.

“That’s not my problem.”

“Please! Just have sex with me, I know you must have a bulk package of condoms from Costco around here somewhere.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“You’ve seen my boobs, okay? It’s my turn. Tit for tat.”

“That is not the same! You keep your tits and I’m going to keep my tat, this is not happening.” He spun around and put his hands on his head.

I looked at the muscles rippling in his back and thought it was a good thing he turned around. I could get this out better without him looking at me. The speech felt easier in the car.

“It’s not that big of a deal. You’re a guy, I’m a girl, we have all the right parts to get it done, and then I don’t have to be a virgin anymore. I just want to get it over with.”

“Then gofindsomeone to have sex with,” he growled.

“I tried!” I pulled my hair from its ponytail. I knew this might sway him.

He whipped around again. He assessed my hair, my vibrating hands, and my mouth. I licked my dry lips.

He said, “You have lost your mind.”

“No, I’ve thought about it -”

“This is the craziest thing you’ve ever said.” He grabbed my shoulders and tried to push me toward his door.

“Stop it!” I held myself firm.

He dropped his arms, saying, “You don’t even know what you’re asking! You say this now and we’ll do it and then you’ll get mad at me and never speak to me again.”

“That’s what you’re afraid of?”

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