“Okay, here’s the deal. I’m ready to date but I’m kind of lacking in experience.” I wait for their response but they say nothing, so I continue. “What I mean is that I haven’t done the things that you’re claiming men expect on a date.”
“Wait a minute.” Kayla sets her wine glass down. “Are you saying you’re a virgin?”
“Yes.” I sit up straighter, the wine boosting my confidence. “I’m a 23-year-old virgin.”
“Hold on.” Kayla puts her hand up like she’s stopping traffic. “How is that possible? I mean, I know you haven’t dated much but—”
“Don’t listen to her,” Paige says. “I think it’s sweet. And romantic. You’re saving yourself for marriage. A lot of people do that. Good for you, Morgan.” She raises her glass as if we should toast to my virginity.
I ignore her raised glass. “No, I’m not saving myself for anything. In fact I really just want to get the whole sex thing over with, especially now that I know men are expecting it by the third date.”
“That’s not true for all men,” Paige assures me.
“It’s all men.” Kayla pours herself another glass of wine. “So how could this not happen in college?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t go to many parties and I didn’t live in the dorms. I lived at home with my dad, so it just didn’t happen. Plus, I never made it past the first couple dates with a guy. I wasn’t interested enough in any of them to . . . you know.”
“If you can’t even say the word, you’re not going to be able to do it.” Kayla jumps up and starts pacing the floor. “Okay, we can fix this. I can find you a guy who would be more than happy to take care of this for you.”
“She’s not getting her car fixed here.” Paige shoots a dirty look at Kayla, then turns back to me. “You need to find someone who cares about you. Someone who will make this memorable for you.”
“I don’t know if I want it to be memorable. I think I might just want to forget it after it happens and move on.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you should do,” Kayla says. “My first time was prom night junior year with this guy I was dating. I made it into this huge deal and then it was over in like a minute. And he dumped me the next week. So trust me, the first time sucks. You just want to get it over with.
“You should really think about this some more.” Paige uses her mom-tone, soft-spoken and concerned. “You’ve waited this long. What’s the rush?”
“I’m not in a rush. And I’m not saying I need to race out and have sex. I just need to start dating. But if this third-date rule is a real thing, or even if it’s four or five dates, then I don’t know what to do. I’m completely inexperienced.”
Kayla takes some cheese from the tray and plops down on the couch. “Just have sex and get it over with. I’ve already got someone in mind for you. I’ll see if he’s free Friday night.”
“Friday night? As in this Friday night? That’s so soon. I don’t think I can do that.”
Kayla gets up, grabbing her purse. “You can do it. I’ve gotta go.”
“Morgan, don’t listen to her. You’re not going to have sex with a guy just to get it over with. And you’re not doing it with some random guy.”
“Paige is right, Kayla. That’s just not me. I at least need to know the guy.”
“That’s why you’ll go to dinner first.” Kayla’s at the door, but she turns back and says, “Show me your underwear drawer.”
She races to my bedroom. I run to catch up with her, Paige following behind.
Kayla opens my top drawer and pulls out one of my bras. She holds it up. “What is this? Polyester? Beige? It doesn’t even have wires in the cups. No wonder you always look so saggy. Where do you even buy something like this?”
“They come in a two-pack,” I mumble. “You can get them anywhere.”
Paige stares at my beige bra, dangling in the air. “Um, maybe you could get one or two new ones. I could go shopping with you if you want.”
I snatch my bra from Kayla. “But these are really comfortable. And I don’t need that much support. I’m not exactly large-chested.”
Kayla takes it back and checks the size. “34C? That’s not small. You need new bras. Just throw this one out.” She tosses it on the floor and reaches in my drawer again. “Paige, look at this. It gets worse.” Kayla holds up a pair of my underwear. Pink cotton high-cut briefs.
“What’s wrong with those?” I try to grab them but she holds them high in the air. “They’re cut high up on the hip. They’re sexy.”
“You tell her.” Kayla says to Paige. “You’re better at saying things nicely.”
Paige looks at the underwear, then back at me. “Well, I kind of wore ones like that back in middle school. Not that you can’t wear them. I mean, you could work out in them, I guess. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt if you got something a little more, um, appealing to the opposite sex. Maybe something that doesn’t come in a pack of six.”
“What do you wear?” I ask her. “You’re married. You shouldn’t care what your underwear looks like.”
“I’m married, but I still want to look sexy.” She unzips the side of her skirt to reveal her silky black bikinis. “These are my weekday ones. I have better ones for the weekend.”
Kayla keeps snooping in my drawer. “That’s all you have in here? You don’t even have one decent pair of underwear? There isn’t even any variety. They’re all the same style.”
“I stock up every year during the back-to-school sales.” My voice trails off as I realize how pathetic that sounds. I’ve been buying back-to-school underwear! The kind meant for tweens! The kind that’s sold in six packs! “All right. Maybe I could use some new ones.”
Kayla tosses my underwear back in the drawer and closes it up. “I’ve gotta go. But we’ve got some work to do.”
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