Chapter 7

Claire, no guy is going to be interested in going with a virgin. It’s not the commodity it used to be. Guys want girls who are experienced and fun in bed. When I meet the right man, I want to know what I’m doing.”

“Hmm, yeah, I get that.”

“I mean, you weren’t going steady the first time you slept with someone, right?”

Her lips twist. “No. It was at a party. You’re right, I just wanted to get it done.”

“Exactly. The same for me.”

Because I’ve looked after our mother full time since I was sixteen, I’ve been unable to go to university, to have a proper job, or to enter the dating game. I was determined that Claire would get to have the opportunities I missed out on, which is why, when she finishes her degree, she’s insisting on returning home to help share Mum’s care. It means I might be able to enter the dating game eventually. But when I do, I don’t want to go in blind.

“So you’re not going to tell him today?” she confirms.

“Hell, no. He’ll probably run a mile. I might say something like ‘I haven’t had many one-night stands,’ to show why I’m nervous.” I hesitate. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Of course, always.”

“Did you… um… bleed the first time?”

“No. Only half of all women do. You use tampons, and ride a bike, right? So I doubt you will either. If you do, and he notices, just tell him it’s the last day of your period or something. Men don’t have a clue about anything like that.” We exchange a smile. “I know you’re not looking for the love of your life,” she says, “but I hope you find someone nice, that you click with. It’ll make it easier.”

“Well, shall we take a look? I’ve only got two nights here to get my leg over, so we might as well get going.”

She laughs. “Yeah, come on, then. Now, remember, swipe left for no. Right for yes.”

“How many times can I do that?”

“I think it’s unlimited. When you’ve both swiped right on each other, you’ll get a match. Then you’ll be able to chat, if you want.”

My stomach flutters with butterflies. “How long do you think it’ll be before I get a match? Maybe I should have done this at home before I came here.” I felt too guilty asking June to look after Mum for more than two nights as her free time is so limited.

“No, you’ll be fine, you’re gorgeous! You’ll definitely get matches soon. Come on, let’s see who’s available.”

I look at the first contender. He’s wearing a baseball cap and posing in a gym.

“Left,” Claire says.

“Let me read his bio.”

“He’s flexing, for Christ’s sake.”

“I’m not averse to a few muscles.”

“Chantel , you have an . He lists his interests as beer and rugby.”

“I like beer and rugby. I don’t need him to write an essay.”

“Yeah, but it would be nice to choose someone who didn’t sign his name by holding a pen in his fist and making an X.”

“Aw, don’t be mean. He won’t know if I swipe left, will he? I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

She laughs. “No, he won’t know. You’re so sweet.”

Guiltily, I swipe left. “This feels awfully shallow.”

“It’s the same as what we do face to face, just condensed into a few seconds. We all know with one look whether we’re attracted to someone. No,” she says, looking at the next guy, “left.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

Sunglasses. It means his eyes are probably too close together.”

“It could just be sunny.”

“Look at his other photos.”

We check

“Told you,” she says.

“I can’t do this,” I tell her helplessly. “He might be the loveliest guy in the world. If someone only checks out my photo, they’re going to find all sorts of things wrong with me.”

“They won’t because you’re perfect.”

“I’m not—my mouth is too wide, and my front teeth are too big. I look like Bugs Bunny.”

She starts laughing. “You really don’t.”

I blow out a breath. “I think I’ll do this later. I want to take time to read their bios as well. It’s not fair to choose just on looks.”

“You do whatever makes you feel comfortable,” she says. “As long as you tell me all about the dates in great detail.”

“Dates? Plural?”

“Well, sometimes you have to kiss a few frogs…”

“Jeez. I don’t want to think about the fact that I might have to go through this more than once. I just want to meet a nice guy, go back to his room, and… you know…”

“Have him shag you senseless?”

“Um, yeah. It’s not much to ask.”

“I don’t think you’re going to have any trouble finding someone who’s willing to fill the role. Your only issue is whether you’re going to feel comfortable enough taking your clothes off with them.”

I blink at the thought of stripping off with a stranger. “Eek! I can’t even think about that. I might wear a skirt and go commando and just ask him to get it over with.”

She tries not to laugh, and fails. “Aw, Chantel. Sex is such fun with the right person. You want someone gorgeous who’s going to make your heart race, a guy who knows his way around the bedroom, and who’s going to take his time to make it good for you.”

“Eventually,” I say, “that’s definitely my goal. But this first time, even if he only knows to put tab A into slot B, I’ll be happy.”

“I dunno. Slot C is pretty good. And D can be a lot of fun providing you have plenty of lube.”

“Oh my God.” I blush, and she giggles.

“Well, good luck,” she says, tucking into her chicken salad. “And don’t forget, if you don’t get a date this evening, you’re welcome to come to the party at my place.”

“Okay.” It’s lovely of her to offer, but we both know I’d never go. For a start, everyone there is going to be twenty or twenty-one. And I don’t do parties. My idea of a great night is a new fantasy book, a gin and tonic, and a box of Jaffa Cakes.

God, I sound old.

We finish our lunches, exchange a hug, and then head off, Claire to the house she shares with three other girls to get ready for her party, and me to the cheap hotel in Cuba Street with the room the size of a broom closet. I’m hoping that if I do connect with a guy, we’ll be able to go back to his place. Although I guess that if we come here, we’d only be using the bed, so it doesn’t matter that you can’t turn around in the bathroom without banging your elbow on the door.

Once I’m in, I take off my jacket and shoes, flop back on the bed, retrieve my phone, and bring up the Tinder app. Okay. Time to do some serious swiping.

When I originally decided I wanted to do this, it took me a couple of months to pluck up the courage. I knew I didn’t want my first hookup to be near where I lived. It has to be with a stranger that I had no chance of bumping into again, because I’m pretty sure I’m going to be terrible at it. But it means I’ve thought about it for a long time. It’s not an idea I came out with yesterday. I really want to do this.

With that in mind, I’m determined to be honest with myself. Even though I joked that all I need is for the guy to know to put tab A into slot B, realistically there’s no chance of me going through with this unless we have some kind of connection.

So now I’m on my own, I read each bio as I slowly work my way through the guys that Tinder is offering me. I know what I’m looking for. He has to have a sense of humor. He’s got to be genuine, nice, for want of a better word. And I’d like him to either enjoy reading or be into sci-fi and fantasy, because it will give us something to talk about. I need someone like me, really, a bit nerdy, but hopefully with a twinkle in his eye that suggests he’s going to enjoy showing me the ropes.

Looks wise, I try not to be too critical. I’m not demanding he be six-two and muscular, or a Henry Cavill lookalike (although that would be nice.) I suppose it’s a bit like porn—you know it when you see it. I’m hoping he’ll jump out at me.

Fifteen minutes later, I realize that’s not going to happen. I suppose it’s a bit like looking for a new house. You start off by thinking you want four bedrooms, a quiet location, a huge kitchen, and a pool, and by the end you realize you’ll be lucky to get just one thing on your list. None of the guys I look at mention reading, sci-fi, or fantasy in their bios. I’m sure some of them must read, surely? I guess they think it’s not going to attract girls.

I perk up when I find one guy who states thatAlienis among his favorite movies. He’s relatively good looking, with short, dark-blond hair and a cheeky smirk. He’s twenty-six and a dentist. Well, I won’t hold that against him. It also says that he likes playing Minecraft. So that’s two things we sort of have in common. I’m not super-keen on Minecraft, but at least he likes gaming.

Taking a deep breath, I swipe right.

I continue on, and also swipe right on three other men. One mentions Slytherin—I decide not to tell Charlie, who told me to only date Hufflepuffs—one mentions he has a beagle, which is my favorite breed, and the third also has a photo of him with a dog and, in the background, a World of Warcraft poster. All three of them are smiling and are normal looking, maybe seven out of ten, which is what I consider myself to be, so hopefully they’re not out of my league.

I’ve just closed the app and I’m about to give Mum a call when I get a notification.

You’ve got a new match!

Holy shit. So that means one of the guys I’ve swiped right on has also swiped right on me?

Heart racing, I open the app again.It’s a Match!it declares, and it informs me that ‘You and Henry have liked each other.’ It’s the guy with the dog who plays World of Warcraft. Ooh, well, that’s good, right?

I look at his photo and bio again. It says he’s five foot ten, twenty-four, so a year younger than me, but that’s okay, and he’s a dentist. Well, he’s going to love my Bugs Bunny teeth. He’s quite cute, with interesting light-blue eyes and a nice smile.

Cute enough to have sex with?

For the first time, it really sinks in what I’ve got myself into here. Claire said that most guys on the app, even if they’re open to a longer-term relationship, aren’t going to turn down a hookup. If I start talking to this guy, it could end in us having sex.

I think I’m going to hyperventilate. I really need to get myself a brown paper bag if I’m going to do this for real.

Chantel

I’m not sure whether to message him first, or whether I should wait and see if he messages me. I don’t want to look desperate, even though I am, so instead I decide to call my mother.

She answers after two rings. “Chantel!”

“Hey, Mum.” I smile as her picture pops up on FaceTime. She’s in her mid-fifties, with still-blonde hair she keeps long so I can put it up neatly for her. Today, June has plaited it into a French braid and slotted one of her pretty flower clips into the side, and her face has a little color. “Ooh, you look nice,” I tell her.

“June gave me a makeover.” She bats her mascara-brushed lashes and laughs.

“Are you having a great time together?” June, her sister, only lives half an hour away, but she has four teenage children and works full time as a nurse, so she doesn’t have much free time. When she does have a holiday, I assume she must want to spend it with her own family, so I try not to call on her, but occasionally she offers to look after Mum for a few nights so I can visit Claire or have time to myself.

“We are,” Mum says. “Last night we watchedMamma Miaand June made us both a margarita. The drink, not the pizza.”

I laugh. “Naughty girls.”

“I know I’m not supposed to drink alcohol…”

“Hey, everything in moderation including moderation, right?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good. I’ve just met Claire for lunch. She’s trying to get me to go to a party tonight, but it’s not my sort of thing.

“Aw, Chantel. You should go! You might meet a nice young man.” She winks at me.

I wrinkle my nose at her. Although we’re very close, I haven’t told her my reason for coming to Wellington this time. Not because I’m too embarrassed, although I don’t particularly want to discuss my hopes for a one-night stand with my mother, but more that I don’t want to make her feel bad. She’s obviously aware that having to care for her is the main reason I’ve never dated, and she feels terrible about it. The last thing I want to do is increase her guilt.

“There’ll be plenty of time for that when Claire comes home,” I reply. Charlie only agreed to go to university on the proviso that she returns to Gisborne when she graduates so she can split Mum’s care with me. I’ve tried to convince her that I’m happy to continue to care for Mum, but Claire just gets upset, so at the moment I’m going along with the idea.

“What are you going to do this afternoon?” Mum asks.

Apart from hopefully having sex? I clear my throat. “I thought I might go to the cinema and treat myself to a meal out.”

“Oh, okay. Have a lovely time, sweetheart. Enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

I stare at the screen as a notification pops up.Mark sent you a new message. Oh, holy shit.

“Take care, and you know where I am,” I

She waves. “Speak soon!” And she ends the call.

I tap the notification. It opens in the Tinder app, and there it is. A message from Mark.

Henry :Hi

Okay, so not a lot to go on. He couldn’t even be bothered to use any punctuation. Kids today…

My heart in my mouth, I reply with:Hello! Henry :Sup

Me:Not much! I’ve been hanging out with my sister. She’s at Vic. What are you up to?

Henry :Work

Me:I see you’re a dentist! Henry:Assistant yeah

Me:That must be interesting?

Henry:It’s okay

Me:You play WoW, right?

Henry:Yeah

Me:What class do you play?

Henry :Troll warrior

Me:Ooh, Horde? The enemy, LOL. I play a human paladin healer.

Henry :Okay

Jesus, this guy’s hard work.

Me:You have a dog in one of your photos. Is it yours?

Henry :No

Fuck me. I decide to take the bull by somewhere even more aggressive than his horns.

Me:Look, I’m new to Tinder. Do you normally chat for a while? Or would you prefer to meet up?

I wait for him to reply.

Ten minutes goes by.

I know he’s at work, so maybe he’s in the middle of an appointment or something? While I wait, I ring room service and ask for a latte to be sent up with a piece of chocolate cheesecake. Then I watch half an hour of a ridiculous game show on the TV.