The Hundred Lies of Lizzie Lovett(74)

For me, it wasn’t either. It wasn’t good or bad. It just was.

It hurt a little, but in an uncomfortable way, not the way I’d overheard other girls talking about it, like they could feel themselves being ripped open. There was a little blood though, and afterward, when Enzo saw that, he freaked.

“Jesus. You were a virgin,” he said, putting his hands over his face.

“I told you I was inexperienced.”

“I didn’t think you meant you’d never had sex at all.”

I thought it was going to turn into some big deal, but he just sighed deeply and started tugging the sheets off the bed. I scooted over to help him. He left the sheets in a pile on the floor, then lay back down and rolled a cigarette.

Another thing that people don’t tell you about sex is that it doesn’t go the way it does in movies. At least, it didn’t for me. In movies, you never see the awkward parts, like how sometimes you can’t get a button undone or how it’s sort of weird to sit there and pull off your socks while the other person is just waiting. In movies, there’s never a terrible silence while the condom wrapper is being torn open, and the girl never seems to panic because she doesn’t know whether she should let the guy put it on or if she should do it for him, and if it’s the latter, what if you accidentally start to put it on the wrong way? And what about how movie sex always ends with the couple collapsing into bed together and laying close? In real life, the guy gets up to deal with removing the condom while the girl sits in bed feeling very naked and wondering if it would be inappropriate to get dressed.

It turned out that sex was pretty much like everything else in life. Not nearly as magical as you think it’s going to be.

“Don’t get weird now,” Enzo said and took a long drag on his cigarette.

“Me? You’re the one being weird.”

“I feel like an asshole.”

“Because it was my first time?” I asked.

“Because you’re just a kid.”

“Well, you’re not really the most mature person I’ve ever met.”

I wanted to get out of bed and find my clothes and get out of there. Just being in the apartment seemed like too much, as if the walls and ceiling were pressing in on me. I was self-conscious though. I wasn’t thinking about her while it was happening, but now that it was over and we were just hanging out, I couldn’t get the image of Lizzie out of my mind. The Lizzie from the photo with her shirt unbuttoned, as curvy as an underwear model. How must I look to Enzo after her? Skinny. Boring. Young.

Then I realized it didn’t matter. He’d already seen all of me anyway.

I got out of bed and started pulling clothes on as I found them. I could feel Enzo watching me.

“Where are you going?”

“I have some things to do,” I said.

“What things?”

“Just things.”

Probably sit in my room all night and worry about what all this meant. Which seemed pretty depressing.

I thought about writing in my notebook earlier, describing the kiss. How had everything changed so quickly? I wanted to rewind, to be that girl again. Now I was just very, very confused.

“It gets better,” Enzo said. “Just so you know.”

“It’s not that. It was fine.”

“I don’t just mean because you were a virgin. People need to get used to each other’s bodies. Find the right rhythm or whatever.”

“That’s not why I’m leaving,” I said. “I have stuff going on tonight.”

“You’re a terrible liar, kid.”

I finished tying my shoes and stood up.

“Can I ask you something? And will you give me an honest answer?”

“Sure.”

“Did you ever really think Lizzie was a werewolf?”

Enzo seemed startled by the question. He looked at me for a long time. Then he crushed out his cigarette in the ashtray on his nightstand and took a deep breath. “I wanted to believe that she was. I wanted to believe everything you did.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.”

“Then why pretend?”

Enzo sighed. “Because I wanted to stop thinking about what probably happened.”

“So I guess it was convenient that I showed up with all of my crazy theories.”

Enzo started to roll another cigarette. “I didn’t lie to you.”

“That’s exactly what you did. I’m just a distraction for you.”

“That’s not true.” Enzo stood up, naked. He pulled one of the bloody sheets off the floor and wrapped it around his waist. “I promise, that’s not true.”

My eyes stung with tears again. The night was getting more mortifying by the second.

Enzo leaned down and kissed me softly. Then he looked me in the eyes.

“Here’s the truth. I thought there was a small chance you were right. Not that she was a werewolf, but she was so into wolves that she might have run off because she thought she was a werewolf. We read about that, remember? Clinical lycanthropy? When we were searching the woods, I really thought we might find her. Doing research and taking notes seemed useful for understanding what she was going through. And yes, maybe I wanted to listen to you talk about all your magic and folktales because it made all the real stuff easier to handle. But that’s not the only reason I stuck around. Spending time with you is great.”