“Poor love! That is the worst,” Gemma says.

She rolls her eyes and shrugs. “I mean, it’s fine. No lasting harm done, I suppose, but there’s just something so”—she wrinkles her nose—“soul-sucking about bad sex. I remember my brothers used to make this joke when they were teenagers that sex was like pizza, still pretty good even when it’s terrible. I disagree. Sex is like . . . I don’t know, a soufflé, if you botch it, it’s just a big mess!”

“Have you made a soufflé before?” Gemma asks, seeming distracted and impressed by this detail.

“No, what do I look like, a midcentury housewife? But you know what I mean, it’s like why bother if it’s bad? You just think: Why am I even here? Meanwhile, he’s completely unaware that he was terrible. It’s just ignorant to be with a woman and not be able to read any of the signs that she’s not enjoying herself, you know?”

We both nod.

“I guess he needs a good teacher?” Gemma says.

“Yeah, well, it’s not going to be me.”

“I think every man needs that first girlfriend to learn with. Someone who they actually have a bond with who can communicate with them and be honest with them.” I’m thinking of Luke now, irritatingly. Even though he’d been with other girls, we were different, he told me—with me it was all new again. “Not that that should be your job, obviously.”

“Yeah. To tell you the truth,” Cali says, “he was only the third person I’ve ever been with. Is that dismal or what?”

Quite the opposite. I was struck with envy, because at one point I’d been able to count my lovers on one hand as well. After my breakup, my breakdown, I decided I might as well give casual sex a try. I wasn’t some girly girl, I wasn’t going to get all emotional about some guy I didn’t know. Wasn’t this just another use for the body? But whatever I was looking for, it wasn’t to be found in sex with strangers. For one thing, I was always wasted. I would find myself floating in and out of my body while it was happening, alternately grasping at transcendence that was nowhere within reach and trying to escape from the too-closeness of the stranger inside of me.

“Wow! I feel like a proper harlot now,” Gemma says. “But you’re right that every man needs a great teacher. Good thing Edward and I had each other.”

My jaw drops. “I thought things weren’t romantic with you two!”

Gemma waves it off. “Oh they’re not, this was twenty years ago! At any rate, Cali, if you’ve only been with three people, Buenos Aires is the perfect place to expand your horizons.”