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22

She pauses, most likely thinking of a question. "We'll start out easy. How many girlfriends have you had?" I turn my head to look at her, seeing a curious look on her face as she looks at me, waiting for my answer.

"None," I answer honestly.

"What do you mean none?" I'm sure you've told me...none? Really?" She asks disbelievingly and I nod.

"I've never dated, I wasn't exactly boyfriend material in high school."

"I find that hard to believe." She snorts.

"It's true. I had braces, terrible acne, I was super short, awkward, and my only redeeming quality was that I was good at soccer." I cringe, remembering high school and the hell that it was for me.

"I'm sorry Reece. I wish I would have known you then," Faye says, putting a hand on my arm comfortingly, obviously able to tell that this topic is sensitive, hence why I'd never brought it up before.

"I'm glad you didn't." I admit. Although more time with Faye would have been great, I've seen what she looked like as a teenager and embarrassing isn't the word I'd use to describe her. "Alright, what is one thing that you don't like about me. Be honest." I ask, extremely curious as to what her answer will be.

"Only one thing? This is going to take a while to narrow down," She laughs and I smack her arm lightly, making her laugh harder. God, I love her laugh.

"Okay. I don't like how tall you are. I know all girls love tall boys, but you're a foot and a quarter taller than me. I'm short compared to most people, but you make me look like a dwarf!" She exclaims, obviously very passionate about our height difference and I'm glad that it's not something serious like that she doesn't like the way I laugh or something.

"Sorry. If I could shrink to please you, I would." I laugh, and she giggles.

"Thank you. I appreciate the effort." She retorts. "How many people have you slept with?" I choke on her blunt words.

"Sorry. I forget sometimes that you're not as straightforward as me. You don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable. We've just never talked about it before. I feel like I should know all the details." She says and my eyes widen. No thank you.

My palms start to sweat against the steering wheel and I grip it tighter to distract myself. "Two."

"Both girls?" She asks and I laugh lightheartedly. "Yes. Both girls. Although I passed down a threesome with another guy once, but that is a story for another time." I smile, knowing that she's interested now. I can tell that she wants to ask more but it's my turn.

"Alright, you started it. What is the longest time you've gone without sex, after your first time." I narrow my eyes and glance at Faye again. Her face turns red and she mumbles out her answer but I don't hear it.

"Didn't hear you," I say, slightly worried that I'd overstepped, but the question is pretty harmless as far as I can tell.

"About four years." She says a bit louder. I nod as an immediate response but very quickly my eyes widen and my head snaps to the side again. Four years?

Faye is nineteen right now. Four years ago, Faye was just fifteen. I knew that not everyone was like me, but I didn't lose my virginity until university. Thinking about it now, I guess my friends all lost it around sixteen or so.

I knew that her reputation from school was a complete overestimate, considering how much she sleeps in my bed with me. Even before living together, it would be odd to find us apart. But she either started having sex earlier than fifteen years old, or she hasn't had sex in a very long time.

"I know. It's kind of crazy. Don't look at me like that." She pouts, and I try to plaster a nonchalant look on my face.

"I'm sorry, I was overreacting, I was just surprised." I am full of questions now, but I don't want to overwhelm her, because I can tell that it was hard for her to give me that honest answer, so I try to push it out of my head and not overthink it.

"What, or who, do you think about when you're masturbating?" She asks and I gulp. My hands are back to sweating and I wipe them off on my shorts one by one, catching Faye's eye.

I take a deep breath, not wanting to tell her who I actually think about when I'm getting myself off. "Whoever is on my mind at the time, I guess," I answer vaguely and she seems unsatisfied, but doesn't ask for details.

"What's your dream date?"

She answers immediately, not pausing to take any time to think about her answer. "Going for food, not anywhere fancy, but dressing up anyways. And then going to a show. It doesn't matter, it could be a Cirque du Soleil, love those, or it could be some live music in a bar. I just love those kinds of atmospheres. Then, walking barefoot on the beach, holding hands, and just not talking. I would only do this with someone that I didn't have to talk to, you know?" She rambles, and I know exactly what she means.

She would go on that date with someone that she's so comfortable around, she doesn't feel the need to fill the silence with.

I nod.

"I know exactly what you mean."