Page 32 of Twice as Twisted

“Exactly,” Duke says. “You do know.”

This conversation should be awkward, but I find it’s easy to talk to him. He’s so casual about everything, like nothing really matters more than anything else, that it makes me relax too. I’ve always wondered about this, since my family makes a big deal about it, but it’s not something I wanted to talk to them about. And since I don’t have friends, all I could do is read the arguments of strangers on Reddit when I wanted someone else’s opinion. This is the first time I’ve been able to ask the questions that have rattled around in my mind for so long.

“What about fingers?” I ask. “That’s penetration. Do some girls lose their virginity to tampons?”

“Doesn’t count,” he says, making a lazy, dismissive gesture. He reaches over to pet Boots absently, clearly unbothered by my cat’s laser focus.

“What about boys?” I ask. “They don’t have hymens.”

“It’s penetration for us.”

“So it has to be a penis.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Just like you can’t lose your virginity to a vibrator, even if you use one before you fuck a guy.”

“What about blowjobs?” I ask. “That’s a penis inside you.”

“No, it has to be in your pussy. Or your ass. I’d count that. Though we went to a Catholic school in New York, and let me tell you, a lot of girls did not agree.”

I wrinkle my nose, and he laughs again, a quiet sound. Our eyes catch, and there’s a moment, just a heartbeat, that’s weighted with something strange and electric. As if he can sense it, Boots ducks back under the bed.

“And for girls?” I ask, turning back to the closet so Duke won’t see how hard I’m fighting to swallow, that my fingers are shaking.

What just happened?

“Oral on a girl?” he asks. “Also doesn’t count.”

“What if you’re a lesbian?” I ask. “You could be with every girl in school, and you’re still a virgin?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, it just is,” he says. “Why, are you a lesbian?”

“I’m just trying to understand.”

“You do make some good points,” he admits. “Since I said eating out doesn’t count, and if a vibrator doesn’t count then a strap-on wouldn’t, which means lesbians would all be virgins, even if they’re sluts.”

“See?” I say, throwing up my hands. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe you just know when you’re not,” he says. “Whatever counts for you, counts. When a Dolce fucks you, trust, you’ll know you’re not a virgin anymore.”

I rub the goosebumps from my arms. “I’m not planning on doing that.”

“I meant ‘you’ as a general term,” he says, hopping up from the bed. “Not you in particular.”

I stiffen when he comes up behind me, edging to one side so he won’t be so close. “What should I wear?” I ask, turning the topic to something safer to discuss when a boy is within reach.

“What are you doing for your date?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “He just said he’d pick me up at eight.”

My heart does a little thud against my sternum, the reality of this night hitting me now that it’s so close.

“Baron’s probably not the dinner-and-a-movie type,” Duke says. “So not your usual date attire.”

“What type is he?” I ask, because it’s better to get information than to give it. I keep secrets, and that includes the ones about myself. They already know too much about me, and I know next to nothing about them.

---