My First Time

“Are you seriously gonna stay a virgin your whole life?”

I just wanted to work today calmly.

The fluorescent lights of the office buzz overhead as I type another dull email, my fingers moving on autopilot across the keyboard. The phone vibrates hard against the desk. Nate’s name lights up the screen in bright white letters.

I already know what this call will be about, yet I answer anyway, pressing the phone between my shoulder and ear while I keep clicking through endless spreadsheets that all look the same.

“Katherine, are you serious right now?” His voice comes sharp, already thick with irritation. “We’ve been together almost a year and you still freeze up every time I touch you. I’m not asking for the moon. I just want to have s*x with my girlfriend without it feeling like I’m begging for scraps.”

I glance around the open floor plan, shoulders tight. No one is looking my way, but my voice still drops low.

“I’m at work, Nate. Can we not do this here in the middle of the afternoon?”

“Then when?” he snaps, the sound of him pacing clear through the speaker. “You’re always at work or tired or ‘not in the mood.’ Life is boring enough without you treating me like a roommate who happens to sleep in the same bed. I need more than that. I need you to actually want me back.”

The cursor on my screen blinks in a steady, empty rhythm. I stare at it while his words land heavy in my chest.

S*x has never felt like anything but another gray chore on a list I never asked for.

I have never once looked at anyone and felt that pull people talk about in movies. Not even him.

I am 25, and I'm still a virgin.

“I know,” I say, twisting a loose strand of hair around my finger until it stings. “It’s not that I don’t care about you. It’s just… everything feels the same. Flat. Colorless. I don’t know how to explain it without sounding broken.”

He lets out a short, frustrated laugh that holds no humor.

“Broken is exactly what it feels like from this side. Most couples our age are already living together properly, not stuck in this weird limbo where you flinch if my hand goes too low on your back. Tell me the truth for once. Are you ever going to want it, or am I wasting my time waiting for something that isn’t coming?”

My stomach tightens into a hard knot. I keep my eyes locked on the monitor so no coworker can see my face change.

“I’m trying, okay? I don’t feel that spark yet...”

“Jesus, Katherine.” His voice drops colder, almost quiet. “Call me when you decide whether this relationship is worth more than your endless excuses.”

The line goes dead with a soft click.

I lower the phone slowly and set it face-down on the desk. The office keeps humming around me like nothing happened at all. My hands feel cold and slightly numb.

I finish the email on pure autopilot and force myself through the rest of the shift, the entire argument looping in the back of my mind the whole time, turning every task grayer than before.

When I finally push through the apartment door hours later, the smell of cheap instant noodles hits me first, sharp and artificial.

Ally is on the couch in oversized sweats, laptop balanced on her knees, the blue light painting her face. She looks up the second the door closes and immediately frowns at whatever she sees in my expression.

“You look like someone drained the last bit of color out of you,” she says, closing the laptop with a soft snap. “What happened this time?”

I drop my bag by the wall with a dull thud and sink into the armchair across from her, the cushions sighing under my weight.

“Nate called again. Same fight as always. He wants s*x and I can’t give him the reaction he expects or the heat he keeps asking for. I told him the truth, and he hung up on me mid-sentence.”

Ally pulls her legs under herself and watches me carefully, her usual easy posture gone. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately. The boring part. The colorless part. It’s starting to worry me.”

I rub my temples hard with both hands, eyes closing for a second.

“Because it’s true and it won’t stop being true. My life has been colorless for so long I almost forgot it could be anything else. Wake up, go to work, come home, argue with Nate, sleep, repeat. I keep waiting for something to feel sharp or bright or even just different, and nothing ever does.”

I pause for a moment, sighing.

I want to let myself be free for once, Ally. I want to feel something real. I just have no idea what that even looks like or how to start without breaking everything I already have.”

She opens her mouth to answer, concern clear on her face, but a sharp knock on the door cuts her off mid-breath.

We both freeze. Another knock comes harder this time, impatient. I stand on stiff legs and open the door.

A man in a plain delivery uniform holds out a thick envelope with both our names stamped across the front in bold red ink.

“Certified mail,” he says flatly. “Sign here.”

I scrawl my signature on the little screen, take the heavy envelope, and shut the door. Ally is already beside me as I tear it open with shaking fingers.

The paper inside is formal, cold, and final. Past-due rent notices. Late fees stacked on more late fees in neat black columns.

The total stares up at us in bold numbers that refuse to blur: we owe at least ten thousand dollars by the end of the week or the landlord will begin eviction proceedings immediately.

Homeless. Both of us. No more apartment, no more shared space, nothing left.

The letter still sits on the coffee table between us, the bold numbers staring up like an accusation.

Ten thousand dollars. By the end of the week.

Ally and I have been sitting in silence for almost an hour, the apartment quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator.

“I don’t know where to get that kind of money,” I say finally, voice rough. I press my palms against my eyes until colors spark behind the lids. “I’ve checked every account twice. We’re already behind on everything else. There’s nothing left to sell that would even come close.”

Ally pulls her knees to her chest on the couch, staring at the same paper. “I’ve got maybe three hundred in my savings if I’m lucky. My parents can’t help. They’re barely keeping their own place. We’re screwed, Katherine. Completely screwed.”

I drop my hands and look at her. Her face is pale under the cheap ceiling light. “There has to be something. A loan, a side job, anything. I can’t let us end up on the s