Page 13 of Behind the Net

Hazel’s mouth twists to the side, a pinch forming between her eyebrows. “Does this have anything to do with Herpes?”

I choke out a laugh. That’s what she calls Zach. “We can’t call him that.”

“I tell everyone I know that he has it.”

My chest shakes with laughter. “Herpes is forever.”

She narrows her eyes and taps her lip. “Right, and Zach is long gone. Let’s call him Chlamydia instead.” Her expression sobers. “So, does it have anything to do with him?”

I lean down to give Daisy a scratch as she trots beside me. “Probably.”

Hazel’s quiet, and there are probably a hundred things she wants to say. She never liked Zach, even back in high school.

“I wish you knew you were the fucking best.” She says it quietly. A muscle in her jaw ticks. “I wish you knew how talented you are. You’d be unstoppable.”

When she uses that quiet, serious voice, it makes me feel like crying, and I don’t know why. We walk in silence with only the sound of the river rushing beside the path.

“Well,” she shrugs, “you’ll just have to meditate him out of your head.”

“Herpes,” I say in a commercial voice, like I’m selling spa packages. “Meditate it away!”

“Chlamydia,” she corrects, and we laugh. “Seriously. Meditate that guy the fuck out of your mind.”

Her brash, no-bullshit approach to wellness has me smiling.

She chuckles. “And if meditation doesn’t work, you need to get laid.”

My face heats.

“The best way to get over someone is to get laid. Especially—” she puts extra emphasis on the word, turning to me and staring hard “—when you’ve only slept with one guy in your entire life.”

I squirm, tucking my hands in my jacket pockets. Yep. It’s true. I lost my virginity to Zach and haven’t hooked up with anyone else.

Another flicker of shame burns in my stomach. That was probably part of the reason he wanted to move on, because I can’t—

I can’t, uh, get there. I can’t have an orgasm with a guy. I admitted once to Hazel that every time Zach and I slept together, I faked it. I did it once, and he was so happy and relieved. I think he thought it was his fault that I couldn’t get there. And then I just kept faking it. I kept telling myself,this will be the last time, because it’s lying. But in the end, I wasn’t hurting anyone, so I kept doing it. If I couldn’t come, it stressed him out, which stressed me out. It was just easier to fake it.

The idea of sleeping with someone new is daunting. I’ve never gone on a formal date, and I’ve never been on a dating app. Zach and I had been friends since grade eight band class and we got closer and closer. Until one day near the end of grade ten, he held my hand and I let him. Then he started calling me his girlfriend. Everyone around us acted like it was no surprise, so I didn’t make a big deal of it.

Over the years, I just got swept away in his current, I guess. I frown, not sure how I feel about that. I can’t imagine being as familiar with someone else as I was with Zach.

Especially with my littleissue. I’ll have to fake it all over again for someone new.

Hazel gives me a flat look, like my worries are written all over my face. “What?”

“I can’t—” I wave my hand around in the air. “You know.”

She snorts and copies my gesture, overexaggerated. I let out a nervous laugh.

“Orgasm?” she prompts.

I make a strangled noise. “Yes. It’s just my body. And now I have to tell a whole new person about it?”

She sighs, her head falling back. “It’s not your body. Your coochie knew Zach was a colossal loser.”

“Stop talking about my coochie.”

“Your coochie wants action!” she shouts at the forest, and I sputter with laughter, trying to cover her mouth. “Give your coochie what she wants!”

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