You're the One That I Want

  I knew Robert would understand why we had to tread carefully, but I decided not to tell him about Ben’s breakdown. Perhaps I should have done, then they could have had some awkward lad conversation and talked it all through, but I thought it would be cruel to talk about him behind his back. I just hoped I could balance everything enough to keep them both happy.

  Obviously, that night in the cinema was a bit tricky to start with, but I wasn’t sure if that was because I kept looking for signs that Ben was uncomfortable. I thought he was at first – as he stood alongside us, waiting to buy tickets, he fixed his gaze on the surrounding posters of future films with an overly keen interest. I was sure he was doing it to avoid having to interact with us, but I couldn’t be sure.

  I might have been trying to play it cool, but Robert clearly wanted us to act like a couple; he was extremely touchy-feely. He barely let go of me, continuously placing a hand around my waist or taking my hand in his. It was difficult, I didn’t want to just brush him off and leave him feeling rejected, that would have been a crap start to our relationship, but I didn’t want the whole thing to be thrust in Ben’s face either. I wanted it to feel normal.

  ‘I’ll get yours,’ Robert said as we got to the counter.

  ‘Oh …’

  ‘Thanks,’ joked Ben, managing a smile.

  ‘Nice try.’

  ‘You don’t have to get mine,’ I argued, putting my hand over the ten-pound note he was holding out to the cashier.

  ‘Er, yeah I do,’ he said, gently pushing my hand away. ‘That’s what boyfriends do. Get used to it.’

  I looked up at Ben and gave him a meek smile, which he winked back at before pulling out a fiver to pay for his own ticket.

  The wink took me by surprise, it was confident and reassuring. After that he seemed to relax a little, although I wasn’t entirely sure why. Despite his initial outburst to his mum, it seemed as though Ben was feeling calmer about the whole situation. He even managed to joke around with us when we were eventually sat in our seats, saying things like, ‘I can hear you,’ when we were kissing, and, ‘You promised it wasn’t a date,’ which obviously killed the moment as it made us laugh, but I was thankful for the humour.

  It was gorgeous being there with Robert, holding hands and kissing (when we could). I felt ridiculously comfortable and happy sat next to him, loving the new feelings passing between us and the warmth radiating from his body.

  There was one awkward moment, though, which happened during the film – annoyingly, it could have easily been avoided if it wasn’t for our teenage lust. Needless to say, things heated up between us in that darkened cinema room, which resulted in Robert and me getting a little carried away. We’d completely given up watching the film – exploring each other’s mouths was far more interesting, as was Robert stroking my skin and his hand working its way up my top.

  I’d wrongly assumed that Ben was preoccupied with the action onscreen.

  He wasn’t.

  Our groping did not go unnoticed. Instead, rather embarrassingly, Ben leaned over and asked for the popcorn just as Robert’s hand had finally cupped hold of my boob. Rob flapped around for a few seconds trying to free his hand (which had become trapped under my bra), before handing over the snack with a shameful look on his face.

  I almost died on the spot. It was like being caught by my mum.

  We were all sitting in my lounge the following day, watching Friends on repeat. The weather had turned bitterly cold, and none of us could be bothered to walk to the High Street. Instead, we set up camp in our comfies and splayed our homework around us, languidly making our way through it. Both boys were on the sofa, while I was on the floor cutting out pictures of different types of bread for my food tech coursework, with little effort or thought put into it.

  ‘I think I’m going to ask Kelly if she wants to go out with us all,’ said Ben coyly, as he wrote in his notepad.

  ‘Really?’ I squealed.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You mean on like a double date?’ smirked Robert.

  ‘Why not,’ Ben shrugged, still not looking at either of us.

  ‘I knew you liked her,’ I said, pointing the tips of my scissors in his direction. ‘I can sense these things.’

  ‘You’re just like Cilla Black,’ mocked Robert, grinning at me.

  ‘Maybe we could go ice-skating or something?’ I said, ignoring him. ‘We could go tomorrow?’

  ‘Let’s not rush things!’ he said worriedly, looking up at me. ‘I’ll have a chat with her on Monday and see if she wants to plan something for next weekend, yeah?’

  ‘Spoilsport,’ I jokily pouted.

  ‘She might not even want to!’

  Bless him, I thought, he’d clearly not pursued things with her because he was worried about being rejected. I’d assumed that was what had stopped him from asking her to the cinema with us, and possibly part of his meltdown – Ben wasn’t the most confident person when it came to the opposite sex.

  ‘Oh … she’ll want to,’ I said, grinning at him.

  Kelly might have boldly told me on our last night away that she thought Robert was fit, but, as a result of Ben pouncing on her, she’d quickly switched the target of her affections. As soon as we got back to school on the Monday she was asking questions about him; what he was like, whether he’d mentioned their kiss, or whether I thought he liked her, etc. I knew he’d have no trouble getting her to go out with him, although the thought of them together petrified me – Ben was sure to be eaten alive by the foxy minx.

  The upshot? Me and Robert would be free to go on an actual date without feeling awkward.

  Ben

  Sixteen years old …

  I had seen Robert’s hand up Maddy’s top in the cinema. In fact, I was ridiculously aware of every single movement the pair made; when they started to hold hands, when their legs entwined, when they first kissed – the film hadn’t even started by that point; his tongue was down her throat before the lights had gone down. I couldn’t help but stare at them in my peripheral vision. A couple of times I purposefully asked for the popcorn bucket, or interjected with some little remark, but that was only to gently remind them that I was there – and that they had promised it wasn’t a date. The breast-touching-hand beside me, though, suggested differently. God knows what happened to Bridget and that Mr Darcy bloke, I wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to what was going down on the massive screen in front of me. I was far too distracted.

  Earlier on in the night I could tell she was panicking, she kept staring at me with this worried expression, paying close attention to my every move – I guessed my mum had spoken to hers about my tearful outburst. I knew that I had to man up. I had to put her mind at rest, otherwise I’d crack up under such scrutiny. Even though it killed me inside, I had to put on a brave face and act like I wasn’t bothered by the changes going on.

  The whole thing was a bit of a nightmare for me, and that was why I agreed to ask Kelly out. At least it would keep my mind occupied when we were all out together and stop me from feeling like the world’s biggest pervert because, disturbingly, when I saw his hand up there, the first thought that went through my head was, ‘I wonder what that feels like’. My hand tingled as I contemplated it and a hotness rushed through me, causing a stirring down below. Yes, the first time I’d got an erection from thinking of Maddy in a sexual way was when she was being fondled by my best friend. Up until then my feelings had been mostly innocent. I couldn’t be thinking thoughts like that!

  Inviting Kelly along seemed the most sensible thing to do, but as Monday loomed and I realized I was going to have to approach her, I couldn’t help but feel queasy. I was such a wimp. It was ridiculous. It didn’t help that Robert and Maddy kept pulling faces at me the whole way through our art class, gesturing for me to go over to her. I never performed well under pressure. Still don’t.

  I seized the opportunity to have a quiet word with her when she was over by the sink washing her brushes. I picked up o
ne of mine and casually strolled over.

  ‘Hi, Kelly …’ I smiled, as I stood alongside her, running my brush underneath the warm flowing tap.

  As she looked up and saw it was me, I noticed her deep red lips push out into a pout. Kelly was one of the hot chicks in our year, and she knew it. There was something about her that was dangerously sexy – she was wild and carefree, something her untamed long hair and dark eyes helped to amplify.

  It was at that point, while I was lingering next to her at the tap, that I remembered our teeth bashing when I’d pulled her in for a snog in Paris. I couldn’t help but shrink into myself as I internally cringed with embarrassment.

  ‘Maddy and Robert, huh? What a shocker …’ she laughed, blowing a loose strand of black hair out of her face.

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  Kelly picked up a cloth and started to dry her clean brushes. I kept mine underneath the tap, thinking of different ways to approach the subject.

  ‘You know, if you want,’ she started, releasing her words slowly as she gazed at me with her smouldering eyes. ‘I could always hang with you guys. I’d hate to see you feel left out when they’re smooching each other’s faces off.’

  I laughed in relief at not having to ask, she’d simply offered it.

  ‘We can’t let them have all the fun … can we?’ she whispered wickedly as she leaned forward and took the brush from my hands in what can only be described as a suggestive manner – circling her fingers loosely around the end closest to me and slowly skimming her hold along the shaft before gripping completely at the end and pulling it off me. It was practically pornographic to my teenage mind.

  And that was the start of my fling with Kelly.

  I’m not going to say that I ever loved her in the same way I loved Maddy, I really didn’t, but she moved me in a very different way. She excited me and kept me guessing. She awoke something new in me – the desire for physical connection. I hadn’t really realized its significance until she came along.

  Put frankly, she made me fucking horny.

  I tried to bury my head in the sand, or, more accurately, in Kelly’s massive tits, when it came to Maddy and Robert. It had been difficult to watch them get together in the first instance, but it was far worse watching them fall in love. That hurt more than anything. Every day they stayed together affirmed the notion that I’d never have a chance with Maddy. She would never be mine, never know how much I loved her. I wished I’d been brave enough to tell her my feelings before we’d gone to Paris. I wished I’d told her after telling her Anthony and John thought she was fit, or when her dad queried whether I was gay or not … or at that childish wedding back at primary school when I’d only had the guts to tell her with those three desperate squeezes that I constantly used throughout our childhood, hoping one day she’d suddenly hear me and understand their meaning. I was a coward and I hated myself for being that way.

  Maddy

  Sixteen years old …

  From the moment Robert and I kissed in Paris I knew I’d lose my virginity to him. I wasn’t sure when it would occur – in a week’s time, a month’s time, six months, a year – I just knew it was going to happen. It was a thrillingly scary thought.

  We’d talk about it, a lot. Of course we did. What teenage couple didn’t talk about the possibility of having sex? But one thing Robert was brilliant at was reassuring me. He was in no rush to lose his V-card (it’s what the cool kids were calling it), and neither was I. That was until he told me he loved me … from that point on I just wanted to do it more than anything. There was a desire that surged through me, threatening to cause an almighty explosion if something wasn’t done sharpish.

  It ended up happening over the Christmas holidays, just a month after we got back from Paris – yes, I’m aware that it would have been nice to wait a little longer, but there was no stopping our lascivious behaviour once the cogs were in motion. Plus, we’d known each other since we were nine years old – we trusted each other unconditionally. So many qualities you’d hope to build in a new relationship already existed between us. I didn’t feel the need to wait any longer.

  It happened on a Tuesday.

  Our parents were at work.

  Ben had taken himself off somewhere for the day – I’ve no idea if this had been planned between the two boys, or if he’d arranged it himself not knowing what we were about to get up to.

  I spent the morning making myself look and feel wonderful. I shaved my legs, armpits and everywhere else I thought shouldn’t have been displaying hair, put on some simple, but matching black underwear (it’s not as though I had anything lacy or provocative at that age – my mum would have killed me), some make-up, a pair of black trousers, vest top and a red cropped jumper and tidied my hair back in a pretty, loose fishtail plait. I hoped I looked effortlessly cosy and gorgeous – like the girl next door that all boys seem to want to sleep with.

  On the short walk to his house I started to worry. What if I wasn’t very good at it, I wondered. What if I was so bad Robert decided he never wanted to do it with me again?

  My heart was beating so fast by the time Rob opened his front door – but one tiny smile from him brought back all the desire I’d experienced in the lead up; it was all the reassurance I needed. I was nervous, more nervous than I’d ever been about anything, but I knew it was what I wanted.

  Robert took me by the hand and guided me over the threshold. As soon as the door was shut he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, slowly and with such a pensive look on his face – I realized it wasn’t just me who was nervous.

  ‘Should we go upstairs?’ I heard myself squeak.

  He just nodded, took my hand and led me to his room in silence.

  Once we were in his blue box of a room with the door shut, he exhaled sharply and drew me into him for a hug – a tight, loving embrace. I felt it was to comfort not just me, but himself. All the cheekiness and cocky behaviour Robert possessed was just a façade to win others over, I knew that, but it was still a surprise to see that front completely dropped – to have the vulnerable part of Robert stood in front of me feeling, perhaps, that he didn’t want to be the leader for once. He needed to make sure it was what I wanted. That it was right.

  Still held in his clasp, I took his fingers in mine and brought them to my lips, kissing each of them individually in what I hoped was a tantalizing manner, as I looked into Robert’s eyes intently. They questioned me, asked if I was sure. In response I backed on to the bed away from him, before reaching my hand out and beckoning him over.

  He didn’t come. Instead he put his hands on his hips and stared at me in his new-found shy manner.

  ‘Should I put some music on?’ he mumbled, before turning to his stereo and playing with some buttons until he finally settled on a radio station playing cheesy love songs.

  ‘Sounds good,’ I encouraged, willing him to stop acting so weird.

  ‘Let me just shut the curtains …’ he faffed, going over to the window. ‘There …’ he declared once they were closed and the room was a little dimmer.

  As soon as he was next to me on the bed, our lips about to kiss, something else popped into his brain and he was back on his feet once more.

  ‘Candles. Shit, I forgot I bought candles,’ he said urgently, before practically falling from the bed in a clumsy manner as he reached for his rucksack. He pulled out a fifty pack of vanilla-scented tealights from Ikea.

  ‘You’re not planning on lighting all of those, are you?’ I asked, wondering how long it would take.

  ‘Sorry … I was going to have it all done before you arrived but …’ he said with a panic-stricken face, as he rested the bag on the bed.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ I insisted.

  ‘It doesn’t?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I just wanted it to be perfect, though.’

  ‘It’s already perfect because I’m here with you, you big softie,’ I laughed, grabbing his hips and pulling him back on the bed with me. r />
  He pouted at me, his perfect face still full of concern, before breaking into a little smile. ‘I’m being a girl …’

  ‘You are,’ I smiled, loving that our old joke could still lighten the mood. I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled his head towards mine so that our lips found each other.

  ‘I love you,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Then that’s all I need.’

  The first time we had sex I kept my eyes closed the whole way through, well, for at least the majority of it. I’d read somewhere that you should always kiss with your eyes closed, so it made sense to me to stick to that rule when doing that greater deed too. I’ll admit that I did decide to sneak them open at one point but the look of intensity and determination on Rob’s face surprised me, so I decided to shut them again for fear of getting nervous giggles.

  Once it was over I felt relieved. So did Rob. Half an hour later we did it again. It lasted far longer and was much more pleasurable knowing what the unknown actually was. Gone were any remaining nerves, what was left was just … lovely.

  Afterwards, Robert brought up our lunch on a tray – chicken dippers, potato Alphabites and spaghetti hoops. A feast to celebrate the day we both lost our virginity and moved onto the next, more serious stage of being a couple.

  As we sat curled up in his bed, utterly naked, tucking into the sophisticated meal, I felt completely relaxed and content. Growing up I’d heard of girls regretting their first times (they were drunk, it was too soon in a relationship, it was with someone they didn’t really care for), but I felt an overwhelming sense of pride that it wasn’t the case for me.

  Robert was a natural leader, something that was apparent in our friendship group, but as a lover I’d discovered him to be even more caring and giving than I thought possible. My cheeky friend had the sweetest heart with the most gorgeous love to give – I felt blessed to be the one receiving it.