No time for an answer. My old friend simply plunged his tongue into my mouth, tugging me so we were squeezed together. My eyes bulged, and all I could hear was Amy’s and Kim’s excited shrieks as they applauded this development behind Eric’s back. And, something switched in me that would stay switched for quite some time. I pushed aside the disgust that my body was being pawed at without permission, and instead told myself that I felt...desired, and that it felt good. I had never particularly wanted Eric. I’d certainly never fancied a boy with a shaved eyebrow, and definitely not some seedy older man bordering on pedophile, and yet, as I wrapped my arms around Eric’s neck, the group whooping their approval at our union, I felt some strange validation. I’d been chosen. Out of all the girls in this place, with all their skin on show, and faces painted to be the best they could be, I’d been chosen for grappling, above them. And though the pervy old man had moved on to someone else, he’d picked me first. After the years of constant rejection being Jessica’s friend, and still reeling from her getting with Liam, it was a giddy thrill being chosen right now. I felt powerful and attractive. Two things I needed to feel that night. So I kissed Eric back, letting his hand prod my butt cheek as if it was dough he was checking had proved. And that was how I spent the last few nights of my Easter holidays. Telling Jessica I was still sick, and then heading over to Amy’s, getting “tarted up,” and wasted on sweet-tasting spirits mixed into low-fat carbonated drinks. Then we’d head to Selfridges, letting boys paw at our bodies, grind into our buttocks, offer to buy us drinks in exchange for rubbing on us for a while, and kissing back anyone who kissed us first. I got so drunk I didn’t really know what they looked like before I kissed them. I was attractive. Boys did fancy me. In fact, they fancied me so much they couldn’t contain themselves around me. Not waiting to see my face before they reached out and pinched my body. What a body I must have. And the little voice in my ear ruining it wasn’t the shrill voice of feminism, but one that whispered, “You’re only being picked right now because Jessica isn’t with you.” I started not being able to enjoy my night out until I got groped. If no strange boy pressed his groin against my back, or stuck his tongue down my throat, then I’d feel totally empty. Wondering what was wrong with my body if boys weren’t willing to take it, even when I was offering it up? I was laughing, smiling, drinking, and catching up with people I’d known for years, but, on the inside, I felt practically nothing. Whenever my thoughts drifted to Jessica, I’d hover out of my body and stay stuck outside my skin until the thoughts passed.