Not That Easy (2 page)

Until a week later, when he abandoned me on the streets of Shoreditch with chlamydia.

It had been a shit end to a shit year, but I'd spent the summer getting pissed and taking my anti-chlamydia pills, so I was now well and truly over my STD and Jack Brown. The only problem was that he was still the only person I'd had sex with, and I hadn't even orgasmed the one time we'd shagged. The only orgasms I'd ever had happened solo in my bedroom with my £14.99 bullet vibrator.

No one really played sex-drinking games anymore, but I still couldn't join in when Emma and Lara discussed anal and sixty-nines. It just meant I felt left out. I'd spent all summer batting my eyelids at every average-looking male—aged under thirty, naturally—in sight, but none of them had done anything but snog me. I had officially become unfuckable. Now being shoved into this single room and labeled the sexually inactive housemate was just like being a virgin again. No matter what I did to try to keep up, everyone was always ten steps ahead of me. It wasn't even for want of trying.

I lowered my head into my hands and let out a pathetic moan. I was 20 percent of my way through my twenties. I only had 80 percent left before I'd be at a childbearing age and seriously in want of a husband. I should be out having wild, passionate no-strings-attached sex with dreadlocked men on motorbikes before meeting The One, but instead I was lying alone in my moldy bedroom.

It wasn't fair. Emma had slept with about thirty people. Lara had shagged about nine. Why hadn't I managed to get anywhere near that? I was average looking and just as fun as them. I'd always thought that my virginity was the obstacle and, as soon as I lost it, it would be easy and I could start having casual sex.

But that hadn't happened. Maybe it was because I hadn't tried hard enough. Or because I was just doomed to be different—the
pudgy girl with dark body hair destined to have below average sex and bite jobs. I'd always felt like the awkward teenage Greek girl who didn't really fit in anywhere.

I wasn't anything like my cousins or family friends—the thought of getting married to someone “from the community” made my skin crawl. I'd die of claustrophobia and boredom, and that's if any guy ever agreed. I wasn't exactly the pretty, tanned girl they dreamed of. All my cousins loved dressing up and wearing lipgloss while I'd rather kick about in Chucks and old leggings. Dream daughter I was not.

And I wasn't like anyone at school either. I didn't have the natural confidence that the girls had—that came from knowing they were beautiful, privileged and loved. I hadn't exactly had a tough background, but I never saw my dad and my mum was pretty overbearing. She was always different from the other mums as well—she still spoke with a thick Greek accent and it would never occur to her to watch
Gossip Girl
with us like Lara's mum did.

Maybe it's why I was always so much more insecure than the others, and maybe my mum's strictness about boys was why I didn't get involved with them for so long.

Or maybe there was just something wrong with me.

Even now that I'd figured out eyebrow threading and finally made some amazing friends, I still felt like little Ellie Kolstakis, aged fourteen, the girl no one wanted to dance with at the school dance. I knew it was stupid. I was twenty-two now, with a cool internship, living in an East London flatshare. But when all my flatmates were going on dates, bringing people home and sharing a lifestyle that eluded me no matter how hard I tried? Yeah, sometimes I still felt pretty fucking shit.

Emma and I had met Will and Ollie in the last week of uni. I was still recovering from the joint shock of losing my V-card to a wanker and getting an STI. Emma had taken me out to the student union to drown my sorrows in £1 vodka shots. We were £10 in when we met Will and Ollie.

I fell head-over-heels in love with Ollie. He was half black, with impossibly blue eyes and his short hair was dyed peroxide blond. He looked like an Urban Outfitters model. In my vodka-fueled haze, I realized he was the only man I had ever wanted, the one I was destined to meet after being betrayed by the de-virginizer and . . . he was talking to Emma about his girlfriend. The romantic music scratched to a halt in my head as I realized he was firmly out of bounds.

“Ellie?” called out Emma, as she waved her hand in front of my face. “This is Ollie, he just graduated in Philosophy from SOAS and Will, who's studying accountancy at King's. They were in the same halls as Amelia.”

I put on a fake smile and we spent the rest of the night getting drunk
together. Emma charmed the group with funny stories while I subtly tried to take selfies with Ollie so I could sigh over them in the morning. When Will saw what I was doing, he dragged me to my feet and made me dance to music with no words. The DJ was just about to switch from the drum and bass to music I actually knew when Will started snogging the hottest guy in the club. I went to the loo and started throwing up the “vodka,” which was rumored to be paint-stripper. When Emma and I tottered onto the night bus at four a.m. with Ollie, Will and Cheng in tow, we realized we'd found our new housemates.

•   •   •

Four months later, we were all living in our Haggerston home with paper-thin walls and rent we couldn't afford. I was still partly in love with Ollie, but resigned to his love for the beautiful but intimidating Yomi, and semi-scared of Will and his financial speak. Emma was the same as always, but now that she was loved up with Sergio, I was down a wing-woman and more single than ever. It was time to call Lara.

“Why haven't you invited me round yet?” she demanded, as she picked up the phone. “We're meant to be best friends, but suddenly you're all edgy living in East London and can't invite me over?”

“I've been here for four days, Lara. We only got a sofa yesterday. The fridge arrived this morning.”

“I can't believe you think I'm so high maintenance I need a fridge and sofa to come over.”

I laughed. “Shut up, you know you're welcome whenever. In fact . . . do you want to come over this weekend? I miss you.”

“I miss you too. Oxford is so boring right now. My feminism society is obsessed with bringing down the Bullingdon Club and I'm so over it.”

“You do realize I have no idea what you're talking about? But
if you're bored, please get the train down this weekend. We can go out with the hipsters in Hackney.”

“By hipsters do you mean your flatmates?”

I snorted. “They wish. Actually, I guess Ollie is naturally pretty cool. He's been wearing skinny jeans since before they were in. But Will is definitely a wannabe.”

“Mm, it does feel like he tries quite hard to fit in,” she agreed. “Last time we all went out together, he got really drunk and admitted he consciously tried to get rid of his Leeds accent. He accidentally used the word ‘brew' and almost had a breakdown.”

“Shit. I had no idea he cared that much. It explains why he loves you though—he probably thinks you're really posh because of the Oxford thing.”

She groaned. “People really need to get over those stereotypes. Half the students here are as posh as I am, as in total plebs. Anyway, how are you?”

“Meh. Spent the whole morning tech-harming.”

“Ellie. I've told you to delete Instagram off your phone. Did you do it with Facebook as well?”

“May-be.”

She sighed. “We've been through this before. None of them actually have perfect lives. If we Instagrammed the coolest things we did, we'd have perfect lives too.”

“I know, I know. But some of them are just like golden people. I feel like the pale people watching them on stage.”

“Stop making
Tender is the Night
references. You know what happens to Dick Diver at the end. And look at
The Great Gatsby
. Do you want someone to shoot you in your swimming pool?”

“At least Gatsby had a swimming pool. I'll never even get a mortgage at this rate.”

“Join the club,” she said. “We're the real lost generation. Screw the 1920s modernist kids—it's totally us.”

I nodded wisely until I remembered she couldn't see me. “Totally. The generation of unpaid interns.”

“How is that going?” she asked sympathetically.

“Maxine is still a bitch. I've spent the past month just getting her NFLs and she still won't let me write anything even though that's why she hired me—because she allegedly liked my vlog and uni columns. Today she made me work till seven p.m. I'm so tired.”

“NFLs?”

“No-fat lattes.”

“That is so stereotypical. Who does she think she is—Anna Wintour?”

“You say that, but apparently the
London Mag
makes more money than
Vogue
. So Maxine has decided she is the Devil Who Wears Whistles and is hell-bent on ruining my unpaid existence.”

“Well, when I'm a high-flying lawyer who doesn't have time to do anything, I'll let you live in my penthouse and fetch me NFLs. I'll even pay you.”

“Fuck off, Lara.”

“Love you too. Anyway, so this weekend . . .”

“Yep, you're coming over?”

“I can on Saturday. But if you're free on Friday night, some of the girls from school are getting together for a dinner?”

“Oh my God no. Lara, you're the one that's still friends with them, not me. I haven't spoken to them for years and I'm absolutely fine with that. We don't need to change that.”

“Ellie, stop being so dramatic. These are the girls we grew up with, not mass murderers. I think it will be fun for you to come. You know, mix it up a bit.”

“But their lives are so perfect. I'll have to hear about how it's so difficult maintaining a size six figure and juggling life as a hot blonde lawyer with going out to fancy restaurants with perfect boyfriends.”

“You know I'm blonde and going into law?”

“Do you want me to hate you too? Stop reminding me.”

“Ha ha. But honestly, El, what are you so worried about? We're not the same people we were at school.”

“It's just whenever I'm around them I feel like teenage me, and all the insecurities come flying back. Like, I can't join in their sex stories, their rich stories, their success stories . . . It's too much.”

“Even though you're no longer a virgin, you're confident and hot, and you have the coolest internship ever?”

“Well when you put it like that . . .”

“Exactly, so what's the problem?”

“I don't know. I guess I just feel weird lately. I think it's just moving into Haggerston, and the fact that my job is kind of a nightmare. I felt really good all summer, but now it's sinking in that all the others are in relationships, and not only has no one asked me out since Jack, but I'm unpaid and relying on my mum—who hates every life choice I make and wishes I was married to a Greek estate agent.”

Lara snorted. “I can't imagine you being with anyone like that, much less married.”

“Exactly! I'd be the worst wife ever.”

“But honestly, El, I think coming to meet the schoolgirls will be good for you. They'll all be super impressed with what you're doing, you'll realize they're not the ‘Mean Girls' you thought they were in Year Ten, and it will distract you from everything else that's going on.”

“Oh, fine. So long as you promise to still come round to mine on Saturday for commiseration drinks. I'll get Emma on board.”

“Deal.”

•   •   •

I walked into Chotto Matte in Soho feeling like I should be waiting tables rather than eating. My skinny jeans and oversized jumper may have looked casually chic in the office, but now I felt
underdressed and frumpy. Especially when I followed the waiter down to our table and saw fifteen models sitting there.

“Oh my God, Ellie,” squealed Maisie. “You look amazing. It's so good to see you. I can't believe how long it is!”

She pulled me into a hug. “You look great too,” I said lamely. “Really nice to see you.”

The rest of the girls turned around and enveloped me in turn so I had to repeat the exact same small talk fifteen times. By the time I got to Lara, I gave her a death stare. I was an idiot for ever thinking this would be a good idea.

We sat down and I gulped at the prices on the menu. There was a sharing option that started at £40 per person. Without drinks. Of which I would be needing many to get through this dinner. Fuck. Maybe I could just get a side and feign being full from a large lunch?

“So, how have things been?” cried Polly. “It's been forever. I hear you're working for
London Mag
these days—that's pretty cool. Is it amazing?”

“Um, yeah, I guess so. Minus the psycho boss, the long hours and the fact that I don't get paid for it.”

“Shit,” she said, with a momentary frown crossing her Botoxed face. Okay, it wasn't Botoxed, but no doubt it would be in ten years.

“How are you anyway?” I asked.

“Oh amazing,” she said, the frown disappearing. “Like obviously it's so intense working in law, but the work is so great, and I love the people. Also Alex works for Goldman Sachs next door so we basically just share cabs home the entire time, and he lives round the corner in this amazing penthouse apartment his parents got him so it's ideal.”

“Wow, that's, um, amazing,” I said.

Lara caught my eye and snorted.

“So how did you meet Alex?” asked Lara. “I've seen pictures on Facebook, but I haven't met him yet. It sounds like it's all going well though?”

“Yeah it's so good; I'm so lucky. We actually met through mutual friends at uni, but we didn't really get together until this summer. He's really nice; you'd like him. I think he knows Jez actually—are you two still hooking up?”

Lara groaned. “Sadly yes. I do plan on ending it soon, but the sex is just so good . . . I mean, he's a commitment-phobic idiot, but we're having fun, so I guess it kind of works for now.”

“Ah I know what you mean,” said Polly. “We've all been there, don't worry. I reckon as soon as you find someone new, you'll totally forget him.”

“Yeah, maybe I'll meet an incredibly eligible lawyer when I start my training,” said Lara.

“What? No you cannot date your colleagues,” cried Polly. “Trust me that's a recipe for disaster. Hey what about you, Ellie, are you seeing anyone?”

“Um, no, not right now.”

“Oh right,” she said, eyes glazing over.

“But I did have a thing with someone at the end of uni,” I continued.

“Oh my God, tell me everything!”

“Well, it was just this guy called Jack. He was an artist, quite a few years older than me. We were dating for a while, we slept together, and it was all good.”

“Um, and then what?” asked Lily. I realized that by now the whole table was listening to me. “Oh my God, did you lose your virginity? Shit, Ellie, that's huge!”

I smiled weakly. I'd forgotten how gossip-hungry everyone at school had been. Considering I'd been one of the few girls to graduate with my virginity, the state of my hymen was clearly pretty big news.

“Yep,” I said. “Jack took my V-plates.”

“Ahhh!” everyone shrieked in excitement. “OMG, congrats, Ellie. How was it? That's amazing—tell us everything.”

This was why I'd never send my daughter to an all girls school—no question was off-limits. At one point we'd even known each other's period cycles.

“It was good. I mean we only did it the once, but it was fine. It didn't really hurt.”

“Oh my God, amazing. So then what happened?” asked Katie.

Oh shit. Now I had to tell them that Jack hadn't really cared about me, and that he gave me “the clap.” So much for trying to come across as new cool Ellie who has her shit together—this just proved I was the same girl who'd managed to bite a guy's penis.

I glanced at Lara. She wouldn't care if I lied. I looked at the girls. They were all sitting openmouthed, waiting for the next installment. I don't think they'd ever been so interested in me when I was the virgin at school. Maybe I should go with the truth—if they wanted gossip, I could definitely provide that.

“So . . . a few days later, we went for coffee and he told me how much he believed in true love, and that he'd never felt this way before.” The girls gasped collectively. “Only, then he said that ‘Luisa' had changed his life. It turned out he wasn't talking about me—he was talking about someone else.”

“Oh my God, no way. That's insane,” said Lily. “I can't believe that actually happened.”

“Do you know what's even worse?” They all shook their heads. “Luisa had chlamydia.”

“Wait, do you mean . . . ?”

“I got chlamydia from the one time I had sex.”

The girls burst into laughter, and I grinned with them. I'd never had a sex story to make them laugh before. Normally, it was me sitting there openmouthed listening to their stories, but being the center of everything was definitely more fun.

“That is so funny, Ellie,” said Maisie. “I mean, he sounds like a total wanker, but at least you got a good story out of it.”

“Yeah, a story and an STD in exchange for my maidenhood. Not a bad deal.”

She laughed in response. “Exactly. Hey, Cass, didn't you get chlamydia twice at uni? That was hysterical.”