You're the One That I Want (11 page)

I had seen Robert’s hand up Maddy’s top in the cinema. In fact, I was ridiculously aware of every single movement the pair made; when they started to hold hands, when their legs entwined, when they first kissed – the film hadn’t even started by that point; his tongue was down her throat before the lights had gone down. I couldn’t help but stare at them in my peripheral vision. A couple of times I purposefully asked for the popcorn bucket, or interjected with some little remark, but that was only to gently remind them that I was there – and that they had promised it wasn’t a date. The breast-touching-hand beside me, though, suggested differently. God knows what happened to Bridget and that Mr Darcy bloke, I wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to what was going down on the massive screen in front of me. I was far too distracted.

Earlier on in the night I could tell she was panicking, she kept staring at me with this worried expression, paying close attention to my every move – I guessed my mum had spoken to hers about my tearful outburst. I knew that I had to man up. I had to put her mind at rest, otherwise I’d crack up under such scrutiny. Even though it killed me inside, I had to put on a brave face and act like I wasn’t bothered by the changes going on.

The whole thing was a bit of a nightmare for me, and that was why I agreed to ask Kelly out. At least it would keep my mind occupied when we were all out together and stop me from feeling like the world’s biggest pervert because, disturbingly, when I saw his hand up there, the first thought that went through my head was, ‘I wonder what that feels like’. My hand tingled as I contemplated it and a hotness rushed through me, causing a stirring down below. Yes, the first time I’d got an erection from thinking of Maddy in a sexual way was when she was being fondled by my best friend. Up until then my feelings had been mostly innocent. I couldn’t be thinking thoughts like that!

Inviting Kelly along seemed the most sensible thing to do, but as Monday loomed and I realized I was going to have to approach her, I couldn’t help but feel queasy. I was such a wimp. It was ridiculous. It didn’t help that Robert and Maddy kept pulling faces at me the whole way through our art class, gesturing for me to go over to her. I never performed well under pressure. Still don’t.

I seized the opportunity to have a quiet word with her when she was over by the sink washing her brushes. I picked up one of mine and casually strolled over.

‘Hi, Kelly …’ I smiled, as I stood alongside her, running my brush underneath the warm flowing tap.

As she looked up and saw it was me, I noticed her deep red lips push out into a pout. Kelly was one of the hot chicks in our year, and she knew it. There was something about her that was dangerously sexy – she was wild and carefree, something her untamed long hair and dark eyes helped to amplify.

It was at that point, while I was lingering next to her at
the tap, that I remembered our teeth bashing when I’d pulled her in for a snog in Paris. I couldn’t help but shrink into myself as I internally cringed with embarrassment.

‘Maddy and Robert, huh? What a shocker …’ she laughed, blowing a loose strand of black hair out of her face.

‘Tell me about it.’

Kelly picked up a cloth and started to dry her clean brushes. I kept mine underneath the tap, thinking of different ways to approach the subject.

‘You know, if you want,’ she started, releasing her words slowly as she gazed at me with her smouldering eyes. ‘I could always hang with you guys. I’d hate to see you feel left out when they’re smooching each other’s faces off.’

I laughed in relief at not having to ask, she’d simply offered it.

‘We can’t let them have all the fun … can we?’ she whispered wickedly as she leaned forward and took the brush from my hands in what can only be described as a suggestive manner – circling her fingers loosely around the end closest to me and slowly skimming her hold along the shaft before gripping completely at the end and pulling it off me. It was practically pornographic to my teenage mind.

And that was the start of my fling with Kelly.

I’m not going to say that I ever loved her in the same way I loved Maddy, I really didn’t, but she moved me in a very different way. She excited me and kept me guessing. She awoke something new in me – the desire for physical connection. I hadn’t really realized its significance until she came along.

Put frankly, she made me fucking horny.

I tried to bury my head in the sand, or, more accurately, in Kelly’s massive tits, when it came to Maddy and Robert. It had been difficult to watch them get together in the first instance, but it was far worse watching them fall in love. That hurt more than anything. Every day they stayed together affirmed the notion that I’d never have a chance with Maddy. She would never be mine, never know how much I loved her. I wished I’d been brave enough to tell her my feelings before we’d gone to Paris. I wished I’d told her after telling her Anthony and John thought she was fit, or when her dad queried whether I was gay or not … or at that childish wedding back at primary school when I’d only had the guts to tell her with those three desperate squeezes that I constantly used throughout our childhood, hoping one day she’d suddenly hear me and understand their meaning. I was a coward and I hated myself for being that way.

From the moment Robert and I kissed in Paris I knew I’d lose my virginity to him. I wasn’t sure when it would occur – in a week’s time, a month’s time, six months, a year – I just knew it was going to happen. It was a thrillingly scary thought.

We’d talk about it, a lot. Of course we did. What teenage couple didn’t talk about the possibility of having sex? But one thing Robert was brilliant at was reassuring me. He was in no rush to lose his V-card (it’s what the cool kids were calling it), and neither was I. That was until he told me he loved me … from that point on I just wanted to do it more than anything. There was a desire that surged through me, threatening to cause an almighty explosion if something wasn’t done sharpish.

It ended up happening over the Christmas holidays, just a month after we got back from Paris – yes, I’m aware that it would have been nice to wait a little longer, but there was no stopping our lascivious behaviour once the cogs were in motion. Plus, we’d known each other since we were nine years old – we trusted each other unconditionally. So many qualities you’d hope to build in a new relationship already existed between us. I didn’t feel the need to wait any longer.

It happened on a Tuesday.

Our parents were at work.

Ben had taken himself off somewhere for the day – I’ve no idea if this had been planned between the two boys, or if he’d arranged it himself not knowing what we were about to get up to.

I spent the morning making myself look and feel wonderful. I shaved my legs, armpits and everywhere else I thought shouldn’t have been displaying hair, put on some simple, but matching black underwear (it’s not as though I had anything lacy or provocative at that age – my mum would have killed me), some make-up, a pair of black trousers, vest top and a red cropped jumper and tidied my hair back in a pretty, loose fishtail plait. I hoped I looked effortlessly cosy and gorgeous – like the girl next door that all boys seem to want to sleep with.

On the short walk to his house I started to worry. What if I wasn’t very good at it, I wondered. What if I was so bad Robert decided he never wanted to do it with me again?

My heart was beating so fast by the time Rob opened his front door – but one tiny smile from him brought back all the desire I’d experienced in the lead up; it was all the reassurance I needed. I was nervous, more nervous than I’d ever been about anything, but I knew it was what I wanted.

Robert took me by the hand and guided me over the threshold. As soon as the door was shut he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, slowly and with such a pensive look on his face – I realized it wasn’t just me who was nervous.

‘Should we go upstairs?’ I heard myself squeak.

He just nodded, took my hand and led me to his room in silence.

Once we were in his blue box of a room with the door shut, he exhaled sharply and drew me into him for a hug – a tight, loving embrace. I felt it was to comfort not just me, but himself. All the cheekiness and cocky behaviour Robert possessed was just a façade to win others over, I knew that, but it was still a surprise to see that front completely dropped – to have the vulnerable part of Robert stood in front of me feeling, perhaps, that he didn’t want to be the leader for once. He needed to make sure it was what I wanted. That it was right.

Still held in his clasp, I took his fingers in mine and brought them to my lips, kissing each of them individually in what I hoped was a tantalizing manner, as I looked into Robert’s eyes intently. They questioned me, asked if I was sure. In response I backed on to the bed away from him, before reaching my hand out and beckoning him over.

He didn’t come. Instead he put his hands on his hips and stared at me in his new-found shy manner.

‘Should I put some music on?’ he mumbled, before turning to his stereo and playing with some buttons until he finally settled on a radio station playing cheesy love songs.

‘Sounds good,’ I encouraged, willing him to stop acting so weird.

‘Let me just shut the curtains …’ he faffed, going over to the window. ‘There …’ he declared once they were closed and the room was a little dimmer.

As soon as he was next to me on the bed, our lips about to kiss, something else popped into his brain and he was back on his feet once more.

‘Candles. Shit, I forgot I bought candles,’ he said urgently, before practically falling from the bed in a clumsy manner as he reached for his rucksack. He pulled out a fifty pack of vanilla-scented tealights from Ikea.

‘You’re not planning on lighting all of those, are you?’ I asked, wondering how long it would take.

‘Sorry … I was going to have it all done before you arrived but …’ he said with a panic-stricken face, as he rested the bag on the bed.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I insisted.

‘It doesn’t?’

‘No.’

‘I just wanted it to be perfect, though.’

‘It’s already perfect because I’m here with you, you big softie,’ I laughed, grabbing his hips and pulling him back on the bed with me.

He pouted at me, his perfect face still full of concern, before breaking into a little smile. ‘I’m being a girl …’

‘You are,’ I smiled, loving that our old joke could still lighten the mood. I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled his head towards mine so that our lips found each other.

‘I love you,’ he mumbled.

‘Then that’s all I need.’

The first time we had sex I kept my eyes closed the whole way through, well, for at least the majority of it. I’d read somewhere that you should always kiss with your eyes closed, so it made sense to me to stick to that rule
when doing that greater deed too. I’ll admit that I did decide to sneak them open at one point but the look of intensity and determination on Rob’s face surprised me, so I decided to shut them again for fear of getting nervous giggles.

Once it was over I felt relieved. So did Rob. Half an hour later we did it again. It lasted far longer and was much more pleasurable knowing what the unknown actually was. Gone were any remaining nerves, what was left was just … lovely.

Afterwards, Robert brought up our lunch on a tray – chicken dippers, potato Alphabites and spaghetti hoops. A feast to celebrate the day we both lost our virginity and moved onto the next, more serious stage of being a couple.

As we sat curled up in his bed, utterly naked, tucking into the sophisticated meal, I felt completely relaxed and content. Growing up I’d heard of girls regretting their first times (they were drunk, it was too soon in a relationship, it was with someone they didn’t really care for), but I felt an overwhelming sense of pride that it wasn’t the case for me.

Robert was a natural leader, something that was apparent in our friendship group, but as a lover I’d discovered him to be even more caring and giving than I thought possible. My cheeky friend had the sweetest heart with the most gorgeous love to give – I felt blessed to be the one receiving it.