Page 53 of Sex Ed

As I sit in the Uber to her house, I mentally make a checklist of all the things that will make tonight a success. I’ve had a quick shower, brushed my teeth, doubled-up on deodorant, changed my pants. I’m taking a taxi there just in case I get drunk and I don’t want to drive, but I’m not going to initiate or have sex. She’s a nice girl and I don’t want any potential to be destroyed by doing this too early in our relationship. Give her time. I’ve also gone classy with the takeaway and opted for noodles and bento, which shows I’m sophisticated and also doesn’t involve huge amounts of garlic, should we kiss.

I’m on my way. I’m nervous.

I look down at the text I sent Mia ten minutes ago, but the text remains unread. She’s busy, dancing with old people, separating their fights. Maybe I shouldn’t have walked out on the tea dance. Was that rude? She did tell me to go and it wasn’t a date per se, unless she actually ordered fish and chips for me, in which case I should offer to pay for that. I want her to respond though. For some reason, her stabilising confidence would be nice right now.

‘You off on a hot date, boss?’ the Uber driver, Lazlo, asks me.

‘Oh, I don’t know. I think…’

‘Nice work, what’s her name?’

‘Caitlin.’

‘You been going out long?’

‘Not really.’ I don’t think we’re even going out at all.

‘Well, you’ve bought food. That’ll get you off on the right foot. She shit at cooking then?’

‘I have no idea.’

He pulls a confused face in the rear-view mirror. Do you know where you are? Your own name? Do I need to drive you to a hospital? I know nothing. All I know is that I have clean pants on.

‘Well, what could go wrong?’ he exclaims.

Quite a lot if you’re me. If Lazlo could be inside my armpits now, he’d know that I feel anything but confident about the situation. He pulls up outside her house.

‘Well, have fun, boss.’

I smile. ‘Thank you, Lazlo.’

As I get out of the car, the front door opens automatically and Caitlin stands in tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt having obviously already done a bit of painting this evening. I’m glad I didn’t opt for anything too formal. ‘Oh my, you’re here! I’m so glad,’ she sighs as she walks up the path in her sliders and gives me a one-armed hug and a kiss to my cheek, taking the food from me. She smells like emulsion, her hair bundled on top of her head, slight paint speckles on one of her forearms.

‘I am… Hi!’ That is a suave opener, Ed Rogers. ‘I bought bento. And wine.’

‘Aren’t you amazing? Come in… I’m so glad you were free.’

I don’t know if being free on Friday signals that I’m not hugely interesting, but I won’t overthink it. She just said I was amazing, and the compliment makes me blush slightly. We walk into her kitchen where she puts the bag on the side, gets out her bento and pops the lid, picking at an edamame bean. I guess we’re not going to lay the table and have a meal together then.

‘I’m starving. I came home from school and just got stuck into painting my bathroom,’ she tells me, splitting her chopsticks and getting stuck into her crispy chicken. I approach the countertop tentatively to do the same, watching as she slumps on a kitchen chair.

‘This is delish. Thank you so much. Are you OK? Your nose looks a bit sore. Did you get into a fight?’

I can’t tell her the truth without looking like an idiot. ‘I did. With a squash ball. It’ll mend.’

I sit down next to her and she bends over for a moment to inspect it more clearly, putting a hand to my face. I can’t quite catch my breath.

‘You lemon,’ she jokes. ‘These are excellent noodles, by the way.’

‘You’re welcome. I didn’t quite know what to get but then I thought, everyone loves noodles, right?’

‘Very true.’

Everyone loves noodles? I’m so good with words. I crack open my bento box. ‘So, you said you needed help with something?’ I ask. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Oh yeah, well… I remember you said you were quite handy and I’m having trouble with my radiators. They come on when the hot water does and I don’t want them to do that. I just can’t seem to figure out the controls.’

In the back of mind, did I hope that she meant helping her with something was some sort of hidden euphemism? Maybe, but I don’t want to overstep.

---