Loveless(72)

I blinked. I didn’t know what to say to him.

‘So, no one else make it? Rooney? Pip? Jason?’

‘Uh …’ I looked around. Neither Rooney, Pip nor Jason were anywhere to be seen. I had no idea where anyone was. ‘No. Just me.’

Sunil nodded. ‘Ah, well. You’ll get to brag tomorrow.’ He wrapped an arm round my shoulder and started walking us towards the throng of students. ‘You’re a survivor!’

I tried to smile, but it just turned into a lip wobble. Sunil didn’t see, too busy leading us onward.

I blinked again.

And then I said it.

‘I think I might be … asexual. And also aromantic. Both of them.’

Sunil stopped walking.

‘Yeah?’ he said.

‘Uh … yeah,’ I said, looking at the floor. ‘Um. Don’t really know what to do about that.’

Sunil stayed very still for a moment. Then he moved, his arm dropping away from me and turned so that he was standing directly in front of me. He put his hands on my shoulders and bent a little so that our faces were level.

‘There’s nothing to do, Georgia,’ he said softly. ‘There’s nothing to do at all.’

And then the photographer started getting impatient and shouted at everyone to get organised, so Sunil marched us over to the scrum and we squeezed into the third row next to a couple of his friends, and as he turned away to chat to them, only then did I realise that what I’d said was undeniably true. I knew that now.

Sunil turned back, squeezed my shoulder and said, ‘You’re gonna be OK. There’s nothing you have to do except be.’

‘But … what if what I am is just … nothing?’ I breathed out and blinked as the photographer took the first shot. ‘What if I’m nothing?’

‘You’re not nothing,’ Sunil said. ‘You have to believe that.’

Maybe I could do that.

Maybe I could believe.





The morning after the Bailey Ball, Rooney came back to our room at nearly midday. I’d still been asleep, but she kicked the door open so hard that it slammed against the wall, then said something about having slept at some guy’s place, before kicking off her shoes, pulling her dress over her head, and standing in the centre of the room, staring at Roderick the house plant, who was basically close to death. And then she got into bed.

She didn’t say anything about what had happened with me or with Pip.

I didn’t want to talk to her either, so as soon as I was up and dressed, I went to the library. I walked right up to the top floor where there were tables tucked behind long cases of books on finance and business. I stayed there until dinnertime, finishing one of this term’s assignments, not thinking about anything that had happened. I was definitely not thinking about anything that had happened.

When I got back, Rooney awoke, just in time for dinner in the college cafeteria.

We walked down there together, saying nothing, and we ate together sitting next to a group of students I recognised as Rooney’s acquaintances, but she still said nothing.

When we got back to our room, she changed into her pyjamas, got right back into bed, and fell asleep again. I stayed awake, staring at Pip’s jacket in the corner of the room – the one she’d left here in Freshers’ Week. The one I’d kept forgetting to give back to her.

When I woke up in our room on Sunday, I felt disgusting, realising I hadn’t showered since before the Bailey Ball.

So I showered. I got dressed in a fresh T-shirt and a warm cardigan, and I exited the room, leaving Rooney alone in bed, only her ponytail poking out of the top of her duvet.

I went to the library again with the intention of getting another essay done. My first assignments of my university life were all due next week before the winter holidays, and I still had a lot to do. But once I’d swiped into the library with my campus card and found a vacant table, I just sat there with my laptop, staring at my old message threads with Pip and Jason.

I drafted a separate message to each of them. It took two hours.

To Jason, I sent:

Georgia Warr

I’m so, so sorry for everything. I didn’t properly think about how this would affect you – I was only thinking about myself. You are one of the most important people in my life and I took advantage of that without thinking. You deserve someone who worships you. I honestly wish that I did feel that way but I can’t – I literally am not attracted to anyone, no matter their gender. I’ve tried really hard to be, but I’m just not. I’m so sorry for everything.

To Pip, I sent:

Georgia Warr

Hey, I know you’re not talking to me, and I understand why, but I just want you to know the facts: Rooney kissed me because I’ve been very confused about my sexuality and she wanted to help me see if I liked girls. This was a very dumb thing for both of us to do – it didn’t help me in any way whatsoever, wasn’t really what I wanted to do at all, and we were both drunk. We’re really not into each other and both seriously regret it. So I’m really really sorry.

Both of them read the messages within the hour. Neither of them responded.

Despite us living literally in the same bedroom, the first proper conversation I had with Rooney after the events of the Bailey Ball came on the Monday before the end of term in an introduction to drama lecture. I was sitting alone near the back, which was my usual spot, when she appeared in my peripheral vision and sat down next to me.