I know you have him for 4th period, so I wanted to let you know.
So we’re on equal footing and all.
that was… oddly nice?
are you broken?
8:51 p.m.
“PETRICHOR,” NEIL SAYS as we creep toward the library. We parked a few blocks from the school to make sure no one would recognize my car. We’re in a residential neighborhood, half the homes already shut down for the night. A man tugs his dog away from a row of flowers, while across the street a trio of girls in fancy dresses piles into a Lyft.
“What?” I ask, lugging the books in a canvas grocery bag.
“The smell of the earth after the rain,” he says. “It’s a great word, isn’t it?”
I tug his hoodie closer. We’re not soaking wet anymore, just a little damp. Now that we’re outside again, I’m convinced the scent of his hoodie had to be the rain. I’m not still thinking about it, but if I were, it’s just… petrichor.
“So you know the plan?” he says as we head down the sidewalk.
We discussed it in the car after googling “how to break in to a library” because we are nothing if not resourceful.
“Yep.” I hold up the backpack filled with books. “We find a window and see if it’s unlocked. Then we get in and drop off the books.”
“And then we get the hell out,” Neil says.
“You’re sure there’s no security system?”
“Not for the library.”
We match each other’s steps, and I try my best to ignore the scent of his hoodie.
“I can add this to the list of my sentimental late-night Westview memories,” I say. “Right after hooking up with Luke Barrows for the first time in his car, parked right around… there.” I point across the street.
He mock-gasps. “Rowan Roth, I thought you were a good girl.”
That stops me in my tracks.
“I am,” I say, extremely aware of the thud of my heartbeat, “but… that doesn’t mean I’m a virgin.”
“Oh—I didn’t mean—”
“Because you assumed good girls—girls like me who get straight A’s—don’t have sex?” My voice is a little too hard-edged, but I can’t help it. He fell right into something I happen to feel particularly strongly about. I don’t know what’s messing with my head more, wondering what Neil might have meant or that we’re now officially talking about sex. “You realize how wrong and outdated that is, right? Good girls aren’t supposed to have sex, but if they don’t, they’re prudes, and if they do, they’re sluts. And of course, none of that takes the spectrum of gender or sexuality into account. Things are starting to change slowly, but the fact is, it’s still completely different for guys.”
Neil chokes on what I assume is his tongue, his wide eyes indicating he had no idea this was where the conversation was going. “I wouldn’t know,” he says, clearly making every effort not to meet my gaze, “seeing as I’ve never… you know.”
Oh my God, he can’t even say the word.
“Had sex?” I say, and he nods.
“I’ve done other things,” he adds quickly. “I’ve done… everything else, just about. Everything except…” He waves his hand.
Other things. My mind goes a bit wild with that, wondering if other things means the same for him as it does for me. And here’s my answer to the question I had earlier: Neil is a virgin.
“Sex.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not a bad word,” I say.