Loveless (Osemanverse #10)(69)

‘Because …’

The words were on the tip of my tongue. Because I am aromantic and asexual. But it sounded clunky. They still felt like fake words in my brain, secret words, whispered words that didn’t belong in the real world.

It wasn’t that I thought Rooney would react badly – she wouldn’t react with disgust or anger. She wasn’t like that.

But I thought she would react with awkwardness. With confusion. An er, OK, what the fuck is that? She would nod politely once I explained it, but in her head she would be thinking Oh my God, Georgia’s really weird.

Somehow, that felt almost as bad.

‘Because I don’t like guys,’ I said.

As soon as I said it, I realised my mistake.

‘Oh,’ said Rooney. ‘Oh my God.’ She sat up, nodding, taking this information in. ‘That’s OK. Fuck. I mean, I’m glad you realised. Congrats, I guess?’ She laughed. ‘It seems way better to not be attracted to guys. Girls are much nicer all round.’ Then she made a pained expression. ‘Oh my God. I spent so much time and energy trying to set you up with Jason. Why didn’t you say anything?’

Before I had time to respond, she interrupted herself.

‘No, sorry, that’s an idiotic thing to say. Obviously you were working shit out. That’s fine. I mean, that’s what university is for, isn’t it? Experimenting and figuring out who you actually like.’ She patted me firmly on the leg. ‘And you know what this means? Now we can focus on finding you a nice girl to date! Oh my God. I know so many cute girls who would like you. You have to come with me on a night out next week. I can introduce you to so many girls.’

All the time she was monologuing, I felt myself getting hotter and hotter. If I didn’t speak up, I was going to lose my nerve and start going along with this new lie and then I’d have to go through the whole trying-to-date thing again.

‘I don’t really want to do that,’ I said, fiddling with the now-empty toastie napkin.

‘Oh. OK, yeah. Sure. That’s fine.’

Rooney sipped on her own glass of water and spent a few moments watching the screen.

Then she continued. ‘You don’t have to get into dating right now. You’ve got so much time.’

So much time. I wanted to laugh.

‘I don’t think I will,’ I said.

‘Will what?’

‘Date. Ever. I don’t like girls either. I don’t like anyone.’

The words echoed around the room. There was a long pause.

And then Rooney laughed.

‘You are drunk,’ she said.

I was, a little, but that wasn’t the point.

And she’d laughed. That annoyed me.

That was how I’d expected her to react. That was how I expected everyone to react.

Pitying, awkward laughter.

‘I don’t like guys,’ I said. ‘And I don’t like girls. I don’t like anyone. So I’m never going to date anyone.’

Rooney said nothing for a few moments.

And then she said, ‘Listen, Georgia. You might feel that way right now, but … don’t give up hope. Maybe you’re going through a rough patch at the moment, like, I don’t know, the stress of starting uni or whatever, but … you will meet someone you like one day. Everyone does.’

No, they don’t, was what I wanted to say.

Not everyone.

Not me.

‘It’s a real thing,’ I said. ‘It’s a … it’s a real sexuality. When you don’t like anyone.’

I couldn’t say the actual words, though.

It probably wouldn’t have helped if I had.

‘OK,’ said Rooney. ‘Well, how do you know that you are … that? How do you know that you won’t meet someone one day who you really like?’

I stared at her.

Of course she didn’t understand.

Rooney wasn’t the romance expert I’d thought she was. I was pretty sure I knew more than her at this point.

‘I’ve never had a crush on anyone in my life,’ I said, but my voice was quiet and I didn’t even sound confident, let alone feel confident about who I was. ‘I … I like the idea of it, but … the reality …’ I trailed off, feeling a lump in my throat. If I tried to explain it, I knew I would just start crying. It was still so new. I’d never tried to explain it to anyone before.

‘Have you kissed a girl, then?’

I looked at her. She was looking at me level-headedly. Almost like a challenge.

‘No,’ I said.

‘So how do you know you don’t like that?’

Deep down, I knew this was an unfair question. You didn’t have to try something to know for sure you don’t like it. I knew I didn’t like skydiving. I definitely didn’t need to try that out to prove it.

But I was drunk. And so was she.

‘I dunno,’ I said.

‘Maybe you should give it a go before you … you know. Completely reject the idea that you could possibly find someone.’ Rooney laughed again. She wasn’t trying to do it in a mean way. But that was how it felt.

I knew she just wanted to help.

And that sort of made it worse.

She was trying to be a good friend, but she was saying all the wrong things because she didn’t have the faintest idea what it was like to be me.