Virgin (3 page)

I woke up with a loud groan as I remembered what had happened at the party. My eyes were still glued together with sleep so I groped around blindly for my mobile and called Lara, my best friend.

She was my first port of call whenever something humiliating happened to me. I turned my horrible luck with men into funny stories for her so we could laugh about them and help me forget how much it hurt deep down. The Bite Job had given us enough ammunition for years.

Lara had given up her V-plates a year earlier than the legal limit, at the age of fifteen. He was called Marc, went to a school near ours in Guildford, and it had only happened once. She was never exactly sure if it counted as sex, because even though he had penetrated her, it had lasted only a couple of seconds and he didn’t go fully in. Marc never called again.

Now she had moved on and was living my parents’ dream by studying law at Oxford. Although her Facebook relationship status was still single, she had been having an on/off thing with a guy called Jez for three years. They’d met at the start of her gap year and had been having casual sex ever since. I wished I’d taken a gap year.

She picked up the phone on the fifteenth ring. “Ellie, thank God you called. I’m having a crisis.”

I pulled the duvet over my head. “Me too. I played Never Have I Ever with the hipster crew and I told them I had anal sex.”

“Why would you say that? You haven’t even had
real
sex.”

“AND YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT?” I yelled through the phone at her. She responded with silence and I sighed despondently. “Anyway, I give up on my life—it’s too depressing. What’s your crisis? I hope it’s worse than mine. I need major distraction.”

“Trust me, it is. I’m home for Easter and want to see Jez but, as usual, he is being a dick and won’t reply to my messages. So now I’m in central London just waiting for him to reply so I can see him tonight.”

“Wait—so you’re in London with no plans? Why don’t you come over to my place?”

“Well, I’m kind of already on my way.”

“I can’t believe you assumed I’d be home alone with nothing to do.”

“But that’s exactly what you are doing.”

“Okay, point taken. Anyway, I hope you’re willing to ditch Jez, because I have a proposition for you and it involves going out tonight.”

“But what if he calls and wants to see me? I don’t know if I can go
out
out tonight.”

“Lara, come on. He is ignoring you, which he does every few weeks, so you can’t just be at his beck and call. Embrace your inner feminist, stop being his booty call and come out with me tonight to help me lose my virginity.”

She started laughing. “Are you kidding? You want to lose your virginity
tonight
? To a stranger?”

“Yup.”

“I’m not helping you get deflowered by a one-night stand. You’ve held on long enough, so you may as well last a bit longer for The One.”

“I am so bored of that phrase,” I retorted. “Do you know how many websites have advised me to keep on waiting? WikiHow’s entire virginity page is full of Hare Krishna crap like that.”

“Did you actually search for virginity advice on Wikipedia?”

“See how desperate I am?” I pleaded in my best whiny voice.

“Promise you’ll never do that voice again and I’ll consider it.”

“Oh, fine. Have you brought any chocolate with you? I’m going to need calorie support for when I tell you about last night.”

“I’m on a diet again.”

“Are you kidding me?! You’re a size eight—you don’t need to diet.”

“I know, but I feel kind of gross and I was planning to see Jez tonight and I didn’t want to be bloated.”

“Lara, you’re speaking to someone who had to buy size twelve jeans the other day—and they still left imprints on my legs when I took them off. Do not even think about saying you feel fat. Besides, do you want to end up looking like those anorexic A-listers in magazines? They’re completely airbrushed and no normal humans look like that and—”

She groaned through the rest of the rant I recited to her every time she tried to diet. We had both decided long ago never to become girls who only ate celery and used their diaries for cumulative calorie counting, but occasionally one of us lapsed and found the willpower to start dieting. It was normally Lara.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll see you in five with chocolate.”

We sat looking doubtfully at the pile of clothes on the bed. I had no idea what to wear.
Cosmo
’s
What to Wear for Any Occasion
guides were open on twenty website tabs but none of them had a
What to Wear for Finding a One-Night Stand to Lose Your Virginity To
page.

“Once we’ve chosen where we’re going, it will be easier to choose an outfit,” said Lara.

I sighed and fell back onto the pile of discarded dresses on my bed. “The thing is, I don’t want to lose it to a skanky student, especially because I might see him again, so we can’t go to a student place . . .”

“Okay, why don’t we go somewhere a bit nicer?” she suggested. “In Mayfair or something? Lots of people from my uni go out round there.”

Normally the thought of going to those clubs made me break out in a cold sweat. Hordes of Oxbridge graduates in designer clothes would make me stick out like a sore thumb. I had already tried the typical student clubs, however, and had had no luck whatsoever.

I shrugged. “You know what? Fuck it. I’m desperate. Let’s go to a posh club.”

She whooped and I carried on. “Besides, I may as well get deflowered by someone who can actually afford to buy me a drink. Hell, if I shag someone wealthy with connections, I might even get a writing internship out of it.”

Lara stopped cheering. She crinkled up her perfect-sized nose and stared at me. “Are you sure you’re not being a bit, um,
blasé
about this whole breaking-your-hymen thing?”

I exhaled loudly. “Look, I know I sound a bit crazy. But honestly, it just feels like a burden now. Even if I did meet the right guy, he would run a mile if he found out I’m still a virgin. It just makes me look weird—kind of like I saved it for him. If I can get rid of it with an ONS, then I’ll feel so much freer after, you know?”

“Did you just abbreviate one-night stand?”

I ignored her. “I promise I won’t regret it. I’ve thought about it a lot and I know it’s the right choice for me. I just want to get this humiliating experience over with as soon as possible. Please help?”

“Oh, fine. Let’s go to Mahiki. Prince Harry and his friends go there, so at least you’ll lose it to someone who can pay for an abortion if you need one. Besides, it’s cheaper on Mondays for students.”

Hours later, Jez still hadn’t texted Lara back so she decided she would look for an ONS of her own to take her mind off him. We decided to wear black to respect the impending death of my virginity and picked out two short dresses from my wardrobe.

“Okay, so if I’m planning on getting down and dirty tonight, I need to shave my legs.” I paused and then carried on. “And more important, what am I meant to do with the hair down
there
?” I whispered. “You know what happened last time.”

Following The Bite Job, I had decided it was time to get rid of my pubes. A quick poll had revealed that all my classmates had been shaving their vaginas since they turned fifteen but no one had thought to tell me. I realized where I had gone wrong in leaving my pubes au naturel. I was too embarrassed to ask my friends for more info so I researched the topic online. It didn’t take long to learn the difference between a Hollywood and a Brazilian. Every website and magazine said that the au naturel vagina had only been acceptable in the seventies.

I realized I had to sort out my bush immediately because if I ever met another guy—or, more likely, got run over and had to wear an operating gown in hospital—I would be a laughingstock the minute they took my pants down.

I began my task right away. I ran a bath, and with grim determination climbed into it, brandishing my pink Venus razor. Shaving cream was too expensive to bother with, so I took a deep breath and reached for the shower gel. It was empty. Typical.

There was a bottle of shampoo and conditioner on the side. Conditioner was basically the same as shower gel, right? I figured it would be fine and slathered it all over my pubes. Then, without really knowing what I was doing, I started to shave the triangle area. My never-cut pubic hairs immediately got tangled in the razor and it started yanking them painfully. I persevered for twenty minutes before I realized I should have trimmed them to start with. I grabbed some nail scissors and started.

I finished snipping away with the scissors and went back to the razor. This time it was much easier, and the hairs disappeared. It got trickier around the more delicate areas, where I tried to pull the skin taut for a cleaner shave. When I got to the lips, I was navigating in total confusion. I was so terrified of cutting something important that I just left all the hairs on the side of the clitoris. I rubbed around with my hand to check if there were any other obvious patches I’d missed, but I couldn’t find any.

Until I headed down south and realized with horror there was a line of hair going up to my anus. I had no idea if you were meant to get rid of this bit too, but I figured I may as well finish what I’d started. I held my bum cheeks wide open and leaned forward in the water, wishing I hadn’t put so much bubble bath in. I held my breath, carefully shaving upwards. It was hard to keep the razor close to the skin but I managed to get most of it off. I swapped sides and then breathed out in relief. I felt like I’d just had a grueling Pilates class.

I was about to climb out of the bath into the comfort of my dressing gown when I remembered Lara saying the lips were the one area where boys didn’t want hairs in case they went down on you. There weren’t exactly any boys queuing up to go down on me—but then, I reasoned, they wouldn’t if it got around that I had a hairy vagina. With a resigned sigh, I pulled the lips apart as far as I could and found the hairs growing only a few millimeters away from the clitoris.

Picking up my razor again, I slowly started steering it around the delicate parts, wishing I had invested in a special bikini razor.

Then I screamed. I had cut it. I had actually cut my clitoris.

I grabbed the showerhead and turned the cold water on max. It numbed my vagina, and gradually my cries turned into self-pitying whimpers. I had another peek at it and it looked okay. It was only a tiny nick. I thanked God that I hadn’t accidentally lopped the whole thing off. I got out of the bath and dried myself gently before limping off to bed.

By the next day, I’d forgotten about the cutting incident. It seemed to have miraculously healed and I spent the entire morning feeling deliciously smooth. I even spent a full twenty minutes admiring my naked body in front of the mirror. The mass of hair that had used to terrify me and make me feel anything but sexy was gone. Post-shave I felt like a New Woman.

A few hours later, everything changed. I sat on the loo to pee and screamed in agony. The urine was trickling against my cut and it was more painful than anything I had ever experienced. I couldn’t pee without crying. I was fucked.