“Aaron will wait until I’m ready,” I tell her.
“And when is that going to be?” She asks, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t want to sound like I’m pressuring you, but are you waiting for the right guy, or are you waiting because you’re scared of losing yourself?”
“I just haven’t met anyone I wanted to fuck,” I tell her, exasperated, but she’s not buying it, and she shouldn’t.
She’s right, and we both know it.
I’m terrified.
I’m scared of getting hurt and I’m scared that I’m going to be bad at it. I’m scared that the guy I choose won’t be the right one. I’m worried about getting emotionally close to someone only to have them screw me over. I’m worried about so many different things.
“You need to tell him,” she says. “I promise that he’ll understand.”
“How can you be so sure?”
What if he freaks out and doesn’t want to touch me?
What if he wants to rush things?
“I’ve been with a lot of people.”
“You aren’t a slut,” I tell her pointedly.
“I kind of am, actually,” Tabitha smiles. “And that’s fine. I don’t really care about that word. It doesn’t hurt my feelings. I enjoy having sex with people, and I enjoy having sex with lots of different people. Sometimes at once, sometimes not. Sometimes I’m in a relationship, sometimes I’m not. It doesn’t matter to me. I love sex in all of its forms. Sometimes I get hurt, but most of the time, I have a really wonderful time.”
Tabitha’s sexual habits have always kind of impressed me. She goes after what she wants, whether or not that’s conventional. It’s honestly something to be admired.
“What I see in you – and I’m not a therapist, so I mean, don’t quote me – is that you waited a really long time for it to be perfect, and now you’ve waited so long that you just feel like you’re never going to be ready. Sex is messy, Mallory. It’s messy, and so are our emotions. We’re complicated people. You might have sex and it could feel fantastic. You might have sex and it could be so-so. Maybe it’ll be awful. You’ll never know until you try it, but if you don’t, you’re always going to wonder.”
I know that she’s right.
I don’t want her to be.
“I don’t want to tell him,” I whisper.
The room has cleared out and it’s just us, now. Soon I’m going to have to get back to my classroom and I know she will, too, but right now, in this moment, it’s just the two of us, and I can be honest with Tabitha.
“I’m scared enough about telling him about my feelings,” I shake my head.
“If he’s actually a Daddy Dom like you said, he’s not going to let you get away with not talking, and he’ll be hurt if you don’t tell him.”
“I know.”
“I’m serious, Mal. Don’t keep this from him for too long. Date him. Love him. Sleep with him, but give him a heads up. He’ll take care of you, but if you don’t share this with him, he’s going to feel like you lied to him.”
A bell rings, and she stands.
“I’ve got to go,” she tells me. “Think about what I said, okay?”
“Okay.”
She places a hand on my shoulder and looks down at me.
“He’s lucky, you know.”
“Aaron?”
“Yeah.”