Page 38 of Sex Ed

ED

I have been avoiding Mia like some weird teenage boy, mainly because Sunday left me mortified. Who comes after three seconds of thrusting? Amateurs, that’s who. She was kind, she didn’t shame me in the moment, but I did excuse myself to the kitchen to rest my cheek on the cold countertop and take it all in. I was no longer a virgin. The sheer relief of it was tremendous, like a massive albatross was removed from around my neck and I could throw it deep into the sea.

But I stood there for ages in shock. I’ve seen Mia naked. She’s seen me naked. Her nipple has been in my mouth. I responded in the only way I could after that. I refused to talk about it and brought her tea and crumble. She seemed remarkably happy about that. Now I wonder if anyone can really tell I’ve had sex. Am I walking differently?

‘This one comes in three boxes, I really hope they’re the right ones, I can’t bear to go back to the shop,’ Caitlin says, carrying them into her living room.

And now, I’m here in Caitlin’s living room. I’m not sure what Mia’s trying to achieve; it’s not like I’m going to suddenly not be a virgin and then get my rocks off with everyone I see. Not when there’s flatpack to build.

‘Well, let’s open them up and see,’ I say, using my house key to break the tape of the boxes. Is it true that I’m into this? Yes, it is. I sometimes time myself building a Billy bookcase – which is probably why I was a virgin into my twenties. I go through the pieces in the box and count out all the screws and brackets.

‘All accounted for,’ I tell her as she also hands me a slice of a pizza. On a plate. I already like her for this. Mia uses a piece of kitchen towel, sometimes just her hands. I get distracted wondering if she even owns plates, before refocusing. ‘Thank you.’

‘I’m sorry I don’t have wine or a beer for you.’

‘Diet Coke is fine, I’m a cheap date.’ I said the word ‘date.’ This is not a date. Yikes. I don’t know how to tackle this, so I bite into the steaming piece of pizza pretending it’s not hot. I look forward to the ulcers.

‘So, are you local?’ she asks me.

‘About twenty minutes in the other direction.’

‘Do you live alone? Married? Kids?’ she asks me.

‘Oh, none of those. I live with Nigel…’

‘Oh, you’re gay?’

‘No, Nigel’s my cat,’ I say, laughing.

‘OK then,’ she replies.

Alone with a cat. I am really selling myself here. I put my pizza down and start lining up the parts of the bookcase in hand.

‘I have three of these, so I am a dab hand at them.’

‘That’s good to know. I haven’t known where to start here. I was in a house share before so have never had to fend for myself. Like, I can’t get my head around lightbulbs,’ she says, staring at the one above us.

‘Well, it depends how bright you want the room and whether you want LEDs which are slightly cheaper to run…’

I can see I’ve bamboozled her.

‘I can buy some for you. Or we can go to a shop and I can talk you through them?’

‘That would be…’

‘Illuminating?’ I say.

She giggles. I made a joke that was mildly funny. Sometimes I wish I could record them for Mia. ‘I had the same thing when I bought my own place. There’s a lot to learn, I can help if you need tips.’

‘That’s very kind.’

She glances at me for a moment and I don’t quite know where to look or be. Damn. Eat more pizza, Ed.

‘Can I ask you a boring question?’ she asks me.

‘I encourage boring,’ I say plainly.

‘Who’s your mortgage provider? I’m not sure my advisor got me the best deal.’

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