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Which I guess doesn’t bother Tyler at all, because there’s no acknowledgment of that whatsoever in his text.

Hey. If ur home for xmas, wanna hang out sometime?

We haven’t spoken in, what? Six weeks? Maybe more. I think the last time we texted was mid-November.

I liked Tyler. I really did. He’s funny in a goofy, unself-conscious way. He has nice hands. He never judged my taste in music and never made me feel stupid for caring about things. We kissed a lot. We did other things, too. Blow jobs and touching, but mostly it was just the awkward fumbling of two teenagers. I always stopped before clothes came off.

Then I went to university, where every single girl I know seems to have lost her virginity, and suddenly I felt like a relic from another time. My roommate has had three different guys in our room since September, and at this rate, I’m going to graduate with my virginity intact.

I type back:

Hey. Yeah im home. That would be good. When were you thinking?

Three dots appear. Then:

Idk whenever. Im free most nights.

The thing is, I want to have sex. I want to have sex with someone I know and someone I like. And I know Tyler, and I like Tyler. And he knows his way around my body better than anyone else does, which is a low bar but still.

My phone buzzes again.

How long u home for?

Till after new years. You?

Same. My mom wants me around for the whole thing. It’s brutal

I smile despite myself. Tyler’s mom is loving and overbearing in equal measure, and Tyler complains about her constantly and always does what she asks.

I set the phone down and stare at the ceiling. Am I considering having sex with my sort-of-ex-boyfriend because I’m horny and want to lose my virginity to catch up to my peers? Yes, that is exactly what I am considering. I mean, I don’t know for sure that it’s on the table, but given that Tyler’s desire to have sex with me was about ninety percent of what our relationship was based on, it seems like a fair assumption.

I pick up my phone again.

Maybe tomorrow night? Vince is going out if you want to come here.

The three dots appear. Then:

Sounds good. I’ll bring beer

Tyler Bowman, an underage drinker bringing beer to another underage drinker for a potential hookup. God bless him. I type back a thumbs-up emoji and set the phone face-down, rolling onto my side and reaching for my backpack, pulling out the blue notebook.

I don’t keep a diary, exactly, but sometimes writing stuff down helps me figure out what I’m thinking. I flip past the grocery list to the next page and start writing.

Tyler texted. He wants to hang out tomorrow night, and I said yes.

I don’t know what I want from him. Do I want to get back together? No. Do I want to hook up? Maybe. Yes. God, yes. I’m so fucking tired of being the virgin.

I pause, pen hovering over the page, reminding myself that nobody’s going to read this and I can say whatever I want.

I think about sex all the time. Like ALL the time. In class, in the shower, lying in bed at night. I touch myself and it feels good but it’s not enough. I want to know what it’s like to have someone else’s hands on me. I want to know what a cock feels like inside me. I want to not be the only nineteen-year-old in my friend group who hasn’t done it yet.

Tyler would do it. I know he would. He wanted to last year and I said no and he respected that, which was nice of him but also maybe part of why we fizzled out. What guy wants to date a girl who won’t put out?

But it’s not just that. Tyler’s . . . fine. He’s nice, he’s safe, he knows me. But he doesn’t feel like, I don’t know. Like the guy who sets me on fire.

I stop writing because my hand is cramping. I flex my fingers and keep going.

I touched myself last night thinking about someone I shouldn’t be thinking about like that AT ALL. Someone completely inappropriate. Someone who would absolutely fucking lose his mind if he knew. It’s so stupid, and it’s crazy that I feel this way, but I just feel hot inside when I look at him . . . It’s actually, like, so perverted. If I told anyone, they would freak out. But my body doesn’t seem to care. I came haaard thinking about him. Hard and fast and then immediately felt like the world’s biggest creep.