With him living in Bath, and me in Oxford, we agreed that seeing each other every two weeks was the best option. With my household being one of the Lord, I decided by myself that going to his every other weekend was best, especially since his parents are a lot more laid back than mine. So in between the exam preparation and extracurriculars I would sneak off to Bath to see him. Our second date was a sleepover, the first one I had ever had with a boy (eeeekkk). There had been uproar in my class when I had unveiled my weekend plans, and ‘the talk’ happened. THE TALK. Yes, the talk that you have over and over again just to make sure that you’ve got all the basics and that you’re prepared for the worst; the sex talk. Being a virtuous being my big V was very much still intact, the closest I had been to the goods of a man was some inexperienced attempt of fiddling two years before, so I needed all the help I could get. Having a class of 10 it was easy to talk about anything with everyone, so one day I just came out with it, “Guys, do you think I need to shave if I am going to get some action tomorrow?”. Timing being my worst enemy invited my biology teacher in at the exact time I blurted that out, and judging by the fact she giggled at me every moment she saw me from then I don’t think it was ever forgotten. Nevertheless, I prepared myself and made my way to Bath the next day. Charlie took me to an abandoned camp place thing covered in graffiti (which I love), he gave me a history lesson on it (but seeing as history isn’t my thing I retained NONE of that information).
Little side not here, Charlie is one of the most knowledgeable people I have ever known. He literally knows so much about so much and I honestly don’t think he has ever been challenged. I don’t think anyone has ever pushed him enough to allow him to reach his full potential, and so he’s used to easy. EASY and problem free- a state that doesn’t last forever.
Playing it cool here, I refused his first attempt at kissing me and maybe even the second, looking back now that’s probably why he fell for me so hard. Not because of my constant kiss rejections, but my air of independence. I was stronger back then, a lot less dependent on anyone; I was layered and I had a coating that took a lot of perseverance to crack. I was less vulnerable, I was safer.
After dinner with his parents we disappeared into his room to watch some romantic film of my choice. I had never been so nervous in my life, honestly, I was not ready to hand over the V card, and I was scared he wouldn’t want anything to do with me because I was frigid or something. But he didn’t judge me, with every kiss and sweet utterance he put me at ease. “It’s like being in a candy shop and no being able to have your favourite sweet”, he muttered before we fell asleep, and that was that. Is it bad to admit that one of my favourite feelings in the world is felling like I am wanted? Not just by boys, by anyone and everyone; but being wanted by him quickly became one of my favourite things and my greatest weakness.