There’s something about the way her gaze darts away from mine, about the way her shoulders draw up and her voice goes brittle that makes me think there’s more to the story.
“Did you say yes because you really wanted to? Or because you liked him and you wanted him to keep liking you?”
“I really did want to, Sean, I promise. But I was nervous and I think…I think if he hadn’t kept asking, I would have wanted to wait. But it seemed stupid to keep telling this boy no when there was nothing wrong with him, you know? He was smart and handsome and everyone liked him—why wouldn’t I do it with him? And what if we didn’t do it, and then I regretted it later?”
I’m about to reply when she puts a finger over my lips. “I know now that I didn’t owe him sex,” she says, and I exhale in relief. “And maybe I knew it then too. My reasons for saying yes, while complicated, weren’t coerced.”
“And the sex itself? How did he prepare you?”
Her eyebrows draw together. “Prepare?”
“To get you ready,” I say. “To get you wet.”
She stares down at me, eyebrows still furrowed. “We took off our clothes and he told me to lay down, so I did. Then he put on a condom and put his penis inside of me—what?” she says at my face. “What’s wrong?”
I’m furious as fuck is what’s wrong. “Did it hurt you?”
Her chin dips low and she looks away. “How did you know?”
I rub my hands along Zenny’s arms, trying to find a way to explain. “That would hurt any woman, shoving inside without her being ready, but a virgin? I’m impressed you ever wanted to consider sex again after that.”
“I didn’t know,” she says, her hands fiddling with her jeans again. “And he probably didn’t know either. It just hurt so badly and I started crying, begged him to stop. He did—but there was a moment when I thought he wouldn’t. Just a second, really, and it was nothing he did or said, but it was this moment when I realized that I had nothing but the decency of a now-pissed-off teenage boy protecting me. He did the right thing, but—” her voice catches and she swallows again. “I’m sorry, I’m not that upset, it’s just so embarrassing.”
“Go on.”
“He said it was supposed to hurt the first time, and that it would have felt better if I would have been patient. He broke up with me the next day. Said he wanted to be with a girl who really liked him and wasn’t ‘just pretending.’” Zenny pauses, looking at where my hands have curled into fists in the sleeves of her T-shirt. “Sean?”
“Keep going,” I say, remarkably calmly. “I’m just keeping the lid on some mild rage here.”
A tilted smile. “It’s okay, really. That’s about the worst of it.”
“About the worst of it?”
“Well,” she says, taking a breath. “There was this thing on Twitter for a while. The Rockhurst boys—his friends—all started a hashtag. #ZennytheNun. If they could only see me now, eh?”
“Jesus Christ. Zenny.”
“What?”
“You had the worst first time possible. You were incredibly brave and stood up for what you needed in the moment…then you were dumped and subsequently bullied for it.”
“It’s not—” she stops, thinks, starts again. “It sounds traumatic when I lay it out, and yes, it stings to think about sometimes, but even in the moment, it didn’t gut me. It didn’t wound me. It sucked, but it sucked like a broken toe. It happened, it hurt, but I was fine and I am fine.”
I take her hands in my own, trying to read her expression. If I were going to trust anyone about their emotional inner life, I suppose it would be easiest to trust a nun—and the clear-eyed way Zenny’s looking down at me doesn’t betray any secret pain—but I have to be sure. If I’m going to take her to bed, I have to be able to keep her safe in every way possible.
“Honest girl thing? You really are fine?”
A soft smile. “Yeah.”
I don’t think she’d hold back after I asked for honesty, and so I move on. “And then no sex after that?”
“I kissed a couple more boys after, but it never went further. And by the time I was ready again, it was impossible to find someone, the right person. Until you.”
It’s a lot of pressure. I don’t say it and I don’t show it, but knowing what a shitty experience she had the first time ups the stakes. It transforms this into something more than just a doubt experiment, an exploration, and it makes me feel like I’ve been given some kind of cosmic task to undo the wrongs of someone who came before me. To cherish this woman who deserves to be cherished, who deserves to know what good things a body can feel and do.
Of course, I don’t believe in anything cosmic, so that feeling has to be all in my imagination, right? And the way my skin tightens as I look up at this brave, vulnerable girl and silently vow to give her everything I know how to give. That’s nothing spiritual, it’s just biology…
Right?
“What about you?” she asks, shyly. “What have you done?”
“Just assume I’ve done everything,” I answer.
“Everything?”
“Well, okay, there’s a few categories on Pornhub that I haven’t dabbled in, but for the most part, everything.”
“And girlfriends?”
“I’ve never had a serious girlfriend, and I haven’t even casually dated anyone since college.”
“Why not?” Zenny asks. “Isn’t that normal? To date?”
I shrug. “Don’t have the time, mostly. And well, I’m a little bossy, as you may have noticed. Women like it in bed, but I have trouble turning it off in real life.”
“Bossy how?”
I think for a moment. Then make a decision. “You really want to know?”
I’m not imagining the widening of her pupils as she says, “Yes.”
“If we get through talking over everything, I’ll show you.”
“Like a reward?”
“Yes, darling. Like a reward.”
She tries to hide a smile when I call her darling, and I decide right then and there that I’m going to call her every endearment in the book if it makes her so fetchingly happy.
“Back to the talk,” I say, and there’s a new quickness in my voice because fuck I’m hard. I want to get through this and get to dinner, and then, you know.
Rewards.
“Boundaries,” I say. “I need to know yours.”
This kind of straightforward talk seems to put her back in her comfort zone, and her voice settles back into its usual, clear tones as she rattles off a list of things she’s clearly given thought to. “No spit, blood, or third parties. If we do anything kinky, we have to discuss it first and we both get safe words. And obviously, I can’t risk pregnancy or disease. I’ve been taking birth control to help control migraines for a few years, but I still want to use condoms.”
“Of course.”
She looks surprised that I don’t argue more about the last thing.
“I always use condoms,” I tell her. “You’ve got nothing to worry about there. And everything else we can easily manage.”