Take It to Heart

When I was fifteen I let a boy named Duran Samuel hold my hand and walk me home after school one day. I remember that afternoon being cold and slightly rainy. To top it all off my ugly, grey uniform sweater bunched in all the wrong places and I hadn’t yet mastered liquid eyeliner. Puberty hadn’t gifted me any great new assets, if you know what I mean, but my body did start to fill in around the chest, making for an unpleasant strain in any button-up shirts I wore. I was hardly someone who made an entrance.

Back then I was a completely different person. I was mousy and well behaved. I didn’t talk back to my mum or stick up for myself. I was also nearly sixteen and had never been kissed. Yet, I let Duran snog me anyway by the garden fence. The kiss was hesitant and I don’t think Duran knew what he was doing either. My arms stayed flat at my side for the duration of our snogging session. Three months later, a couple weeks after my birthday, I learned for myself what shagging was all about. Duran was my sort-of-boyfriend at the time and I guess he was good as any to lose my virginity to.

Why does any of this matter? Because even though I started having sex at sixteen and have had loads of sex since then ¬¬-- only with three other lads mind you -- the first ten or so minutes of hooking up with someone never gets easier. It isn’t like a Nicholas Sparks book/movie where the male cups a girl’s cheek and gives her a kiss that might as well be a marriage proposal. It certainly doesn’t flow gently from snogging to stripping to getting off on the first go around. There is always a step forgotten in the first part of the dance, a lyric missed the first time the chorus is sung.

That first slide of a hand up your blouse or down his trousers is always slightly shaking, waiting for your fingers to skim something familiar. Your breath catches at weird moments. Goosebumps invade your arms, stomach, that little space between your breasts. There is always that minute when you’re meant to be enjoying the moment but suddenly become increasingly body-conscious and start having conversations in your mind about whether what you’re doing is meeting a boy’s easy-to-please needs. For something so simple and natural, it sure takes a lot of thought.

I guess that’s why it seemed extraordinarily strange to me when having sex with Oliver felt almost seamless.

After Josh and Lark’s ceremony had me genuinely tearing up at the sight of my brother dressed in a tux standing in front of his beautiful bride, the reception looked like a nightclub. There was an open bar, a dance floor, loads of food, and music. Between keeping a steady stream of alcohol in my system, I had a dance with Josh and my dad. I almost forgot that Mum was missing from the equation. It was something I wouldn’t let myself dwell on, at least not tonight. She would forgive him eventually and everything would blow over.

“I’m so incredibly happy for you,” I told Lark, who asked me to accompany her into a back dressing room so she could change into her reception dress. “We hardly know each other, but my brother deserves someone like you.”

“He is so lovely to me,” she said with a smile. Her eye make up was smudge slightly and wisps of hair had escaped from her bun. The night’s stress had worn her out and this was the first real break she’d had all day. “I have him almost convinced to visit Sheffield later this spring, so we can have proper time together. Your gran in Scotland couldn’t make it this weekend, but wanted us to travel there also, so I plan to make a detour -- Could you help me tie this bloody bow?”

I stepped up behind her and touched where the zipper of her dress ended in a plush, white bow. I looped and tightened it into place, smoothing out the creases. “My family is a bit mental, it’s hard to ever get us in one place. I’m surprised my uncle and aunt showed up. You’ll figure out it’s best not to meet some of my mum’s side, or my dad’s for that matter.”

“Sometimes I forget Josh’s family isn’t close like mine. I feel privileged to even have met you. I promise you will always be welcome with my family.”

Her sincerity left me without words so instead of replying I let her hug me and pull me around the party to meet her friends and family. I enjoyed her enthusiasm, but it only made me wish I came from the same sort of background with a stable, supportive family.

As the night ticked on and the crowd thinned, the newly weds remained completely sober. It was still obvious they were having an amazing time. Lark threw her bouquet, which landed in the punch bowl due to her cousin’s state of intoxication, and when they cut the cake everything seemed to be in perfect working order. I hadn’t felt this happy in a very long time, particularly after talking with Lark. Everything about tonight went great. The plum colored dress that Anna helped me pick out looked stunning, I managed to get my hair and makeup just right, and the ceremony was hiccup-free. It was refreshing to enjoy the natural happiness of other people.

When Oliver finally whisked me away for a proper dance the grin on my face just wouldn’t go away. I even tried to hide my smile in the crease of his neck to no avail. He twirled me around under his arm and back again. I could smell his cologne when he cupped his left hand in mine and placed his right hand on my lower back. We were synced together as if I understood each step he planned to take. I never knew he could dance like this, but it was fantastic.

And when Oliver decided to kiss me right then and there on the dance floor, I knew I had been kidding myself all along. I don’t know why I never realized I fancied him from day one. I hid my feelings, even from myself, and made up excuses for why I wanted to see him or talk to him. I even watched his dog! I would never have done that for anyone else. But in that moment when we went from dancing to kissing, I felt my stomach erupt with butterflies and my heart skid to a stop. I slid my hand from his shoulder to lightly grab a handful of his hair and pull him closer into me.

No one said anything as I bid farewell to the bride and groom and wished them the best of luck. My dad and Jo already snuck off to Jo’s flat, meaning no one paid attention to Oliver and me as we covered each other in kisses while waiting for a cab. I could really kiss him forever. He did this thing where he kissed me like I could leave at any second. He soaked in everything my lips and touch had to offer.

I could have bolted at any second if I wanted to, but unlike the night before I wanted him to follow me into the guest bedroom and give me that look like I was something to be craved. This is where we became seamless. Never before had I let someone completely undress me first. I didn’t shake or stutter or try to cover my stomach. I let Oliver kiss away my clothing with a slow zip of my dress. Even when the plum fabric pooled at my feet followed closely by my expensive strapless bra and matching knickers, I couldn’t think of anything other than Oliver and how he made me feel in that moment. I slipped his tie off with ease and each button of his shirt popped open at my command as Oliver kissed and sucked his way down my neck. Once his trousers covered my dress on the floor, he slipped his arms around my waist and hoisted me up so my legs wrapped around him. In a fluid motion, he turned and placed our bodies in the middle of the bed.

I responded to him instinctively. These moments were urgent and far too drawn out; yet time wasn’t a factor at all. We didn’t think, we just acted and suddenly all the romantic plays and books and movies made sense.



Mum had a roast in the oven the next day when I arrived home. The house smelled of vegetables and baked goods. Either the holiday season put her in a good mood, or she was using the kitchen as therapy to deal with the weekend. Charlie sat on the sofa, his legs crossed with a book in his hands. He barely looked up as I set me suitcase at the bottom of the stairs.

By now, Oliver had driven away. I slept the whole ride home but he woke me with a kiss and promised to ring me later that night. The whole thing was surreal and left me utterly confused. The fact that I had sex with Oliver hadn’t quite sunk in yet. We didn’t actually even speak of it when we woke up naked tangled between sheets and skin. We just stayed in that position, in and out of sleep, until we decided it was a good idea to drive back to Sheffield. Once parked outside, he rambled about the holidays and when we could meet up.

“Dinner will be ready in an hour,” Mum called from the kitchen.

She didn’t walk into the room and Charlie didn’t so much as blink, so I lugged my bags upstairs before sinking into a hot bath. There was an embarrassing hickey just above my left boob and a few mysterious marks on my hips. I sighed, grabbed my cell, and sent a quick text to Anna. It was vague, but I needed a girl to talk to and Naomi was out of the question. I sat in the tub until Cosmo began scratching on the bathroom door, meowing. I toweled off, scooped him up, and collapsed onto my bed.

Dinner that night was awkward. My mum said nothing about the wedding, which I was grateful for, and by the time I got to Anna’s and filled her in, the floating feeling of Oliver’s touch was already long gone.

“I knew you fancied him,” she commented. I rolled my eyes, not in the mood. “Has he texted or rang you?”

I shook my head. “We spent all weekend together, I don’t expect him to text me incessantly.”

“But you shagged.”

“Do you suppose we get married now? Oliver has no obligation to call me just because we had sex. Did that lad Oliver is friends with ever text you?”

“That’s different, he wasn’t my date to a wedding.”

For once Anna was wrong. I was actually glad Oliver hadn’t contacted me yet. Christmas was almost here and I thought it would be best to resume whatever this was once the season was over and done with. That way, we wouldn’t have to deal with families or friends. I still had the gift I got him, the mug I found when I went shopping for Lark and Josh, but that could wait too. The holidays were the worst time to pursue someone.

“If you want something more than one tipsy night with him, you have to pursue it.” Anna added. She eyed me. “Give him the mug on Christmas Eve. Show some initiative, that will be a Christmas miracle if I ever fuckin’ saw one. Seriously Rose, what have you got to lose? You’ve already seen the goods.”

I laughed, reluctantly, and decided if he didn’t text me first, I would drop the mug off tomorrow night after dinner with Charlie’s mum and dad.