Mina side-eyes him. “What?”
“I love that you have your bar mitzvah in front of your parents and grandparents and everyone, and like, that’s the Jewish version of ‘becoming a woman.’” He leans forward, grinning. “But in my religion—”
“You are not religious,” Mina says.
“In my religion,” he repeats emphatically, “you become a woman by . . .” He forms an O with his left hand and pokes through it with his right pointer finger, again and again and again.
“Jesus Christ, Max. Stop it. I’m serious.” Mina stands up.
“Yeah, that’s pretty fucking problematic,” Cassie says calmly.
“What?” Max looks wounded. “How is that problematic? The Jewish thing?”
“Um, let’s start with the implication that becoming a woman has anything to do with whether or not you’ve had sex.”
I have to admit, my sister is a badass. She just doesn’t get intimidated by people. I don’t know how to be like that.
“Ohhh, geez. Okay. I was kidding.” Max sighs.
“And you know what? I’m pretty much done with this construct of ‘virginity.’” Cassie does air quotes. “Which I’m sure you think applies to hetero, vaginal sex.”
“You think a person can lose their virginity from oral sex?”
“Yes,” Cassie says.
“Max, seriously.” Mina glares down at him.
“Okay, but don’t you think it depends on the couple?” Will chimes in. “It’s like a case-by-case thing. Like, if oral is the endgame for a particular couple, then yeah. But if it’s like a hetero guy and girl, I think there would have to be penetration.”
“But why?” Cassie leans forward. “Why would that be considered more intimate than oral? Like, why do you get to decide what makes something intimate?”
I lean back against the cushions and tuck my feet up under my thighs. It’s even worse than the bikini wax conversation. I feel so out of my league. I don’t know. This is not the kind of sex talk I’m used to having. I’m not saying the concepts are new to me. I mean, Patty’s a midwife, and she can get very specific about these things. But that’s strictly informational mom stuff. And when Abby talks about sex, it’s about the feelings, not the orifices. But I feel like we’re jumping straight into orifices.
Will nudges me. “What do you think?”
And the whole room goes silent. At least that’s how it feels.
I mean, he has to know I’m the last person he should be consulting about this. I’m pretty much the latest-blooming icon of teen purity to ever exist outside a Judd Apatow movie. Literally, the only penetration in my life involves monofilament cord and paper beads.
To be honest, I am Queen Elizabeth. I’m the Virgin Queen. And I think I know how she’d handle this conversation.
She would observe. And remain silent.
Of course, Elizabeth probably didn’t have a roomful of hipster sex gods staring her down.
“I mean, I think people have this mentality that sex is only real if it involves a penis,” Cassie says finally.
“Oh my God.” Mina sighs. “Thank you. This is like my soapbox.” She and Cassie beam at each other.
“And on that note,” Will announces loudly, “I’m getting another beer.”
He springs up from the carpet, and Mina murmurs something to Cassie under her breath. Then, Cassie laughs and whispers something back to Mina. And for a minute, I’m just sitting there, across from Max—who glances up at me for a moment, before deciding his phone is more interesting than I am. So maybe Max is one of those guys who only wants to befriend girls he thinks are hot (see also: guys who wear fedoras) (see also: guys who say “NO FATTIEZ”).
Though maybe I’m being too sensitive. Cassie tells me this a lot.
Anyway, I feel a little better when Will slides back onto the couch beside me, lips pressed against the rim of his beer bottle like he’s kissing it. He takes a quick sip, tilts his head toward me. “So, have you ever thought about doing photography?”
“Oh. Um. Not really.”
“Molly, you totally should!” Cassie says. “You know, you guys should hang out and work on a project together or something.”
Oh my God.
I feel sick. I actually feel sick. My sister is the least subtle person on the planet. This is so much worse than the barf mitzvah story. I don’t care about the barf mitzvah story. But this.
He’s going to think I want to hook up with him. That I’m in love with him. That I’m obsessed with him.
And I’m sorry, but there’s a reason I’m so careful. Boys like Will don’t like girls like me. And if they find out we like them, they are always cruel. Always.
I need to breathe. In through the nose. Out through the mouth.
“So, you have to hear the new Florence and the Machine album,” Mina says. “I have it upstairs on my laptop. It’s so great.”
Max looks up, suddenly, turning to Will. “Dude, we gotta go. Come on.”
“Wait, what? I want to hear Florence.”
“I’m sure it’s on YouTube,” Max says. “And I’m your ride, so . . .”
“You’re a dickhole, McCone.”
Max shakes his keys—and then, to my utter surprise, he turns to me with one of those face-lighting smiles. “Need a ride to the Metro, Molly?”
So maybe I was wrong about the fedora and the no-fattiez.
“Um. Yeah. Thank you. That would be really great.” I look at Cassie. “Cass, you ready?”
There’s this pause.
“Um. I’m gonna stay and hear that album. Is that okay?”
I feel a tiny twinge, low in my chest. “Yeah! Yeah, totally.” I pause. “So. Do you want me to stay, or . . . ?”
“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Cassie says quickly. “You should go.”
Mina nods. “I can drop Cassie off after.”
Oh.
I think this is how it happens.
“Okay, yeah!” I say again, trying to sound casual.
Suddenly, there’s this pressure building behind my eyes. But it’s probably just excitement or adrenaline, because I’m not a shitty person. If my sister wants to make out with this girl, I would like this makeout to proceed as planned. And if it means I have to ride to the Metro with two cute boys, so be it.
I should be excited about this, right? Not one. TWO. Two cute hipster boys.
Max leads the way upstairs, and already I know what this ride will be like. The boys will be jokey and knowing and familiar. And I will lose myself to shyness. I will be the ice cube.
Will isn’t drunk, exactly, but he’s sort of loose and happy. He curses Max out for making him leave, but you can tell he’s not actually mad at all. Whereas Max just looks amused all the way to his car.
“So, where do you have to be so fucking urgently?” Will asks, sliding into the passenger seat. I tuck into the backseat, shutting the door quietly behind me. A part of me wonders if they remember I’m here.