THE OXFORD BET *VirginityGames*

Chapter 16 Rescue Me

Francesca

I have high standards, I get it. It might lead people to believe I'm stuck up, or assume I'm super judgey of other people's choices, but that's not the case. I like being alone. I like feeling wanted but not needing to dedicate my time to someone other than myself. I long to spend my social battery on my friends and on myself. As a child I imagined something different. A fairytale.Someone who likes to be alone.

Alone.

It's different than being lonely. I used to think, I can't wait to find my prince charming, I'm going to have  my dream career, have a few kids and be settled down by the time I'm 30. A laughable idea for the type of person I am. What had happened to me in the meantime? Why was I living with a known knicker swindler and psychopath. I was not making it easy for myself to progress, regarding my living situation. How I used to dream about finding a love, so infinitely beautiful or unique that it would be something akin to what the 20th century poets used to write about. "I can't believe you don't have a boyfriend, Francesca?" Was often followed by 'Your so pretty, or nice or funny and yeah it's like weird, honestly, I can't believe you don't have one. Boys are so stupid.'

I only recently realised how insulting that was. No matter if it was a friend or a family member or even a family friend, they had no right to cast aspersions on me, concluding that there must be something wrong with me. I must be faulty or broken. The subtext of those questions meant surely I had to have something wrong with me, like a third boob or something to not want one. For me not to want to be involved with someone romantically. I had been asked the question so many times, yet I still didn't have a ready response, a script, a good enough rigmarole. It was fuzzy and unclear, sometimes I would say 'boys, eww.' Other times I would try giving a valid argument and very occasionally I would be brutally honest 'I just find it hard to completely trust people. I hate looking  a fool. I don't want to give away freedoms women before me fought so hard for. If I let anyone that close, then I'm not in control. Who many people broke up with their first boyfriend or girlfriend? Or even their second, or third? The stats were probably off the charts and I didn't want to be a statistic. What if the person I want so deeply, comes to fall out of love with me? What could be sadder than that? That sounded worse than not being loved at all. What if the person I love doesn't love me back. Unrequited, rejected, unresolved, they weren't feelings I would one day allow to happen, but not yet. I was too young. "Seeing anyone?" "Got a young man yet?" Whether these questions came from my gran or a friend or even my fat balding driving instructor. I was tongue tied each time and I hated it.

Until lately, when I have noticed how the left side of the bed is so cold, alone now feels too quiet and I wonder, if being single is an escape from the pressures of letting someone down, or never meeting their expectations.

Rescue me. Take me in your arms. Rescue me. I want your tender charm. Cause I'm lonely. And I'm blue. I need you. And your love too. Come on and rescue me...The song continued on the tinny scratchy radio, not quite tuned to the station correctly. I hummed the old song to myself, enjoying Fontella Bass's voice and reminding me of a scene deep in my memory of Woopie Goldberg in Sister Act. The song playing on the radio made me smile and mouth the words, comfortable with Daniel's little sister next to me. My hips swung from side to side in an attempt to sync my movements with the upbeat tune, while also building the play doh with Gracey.  Halfway through the verse, I reached over the glossy black counter top to the radio and turned up the volume a little. I pieced together the lyrics as I went along, my humming turning into a quiet song. The chorus, at least, was easy enough.

Daniel entered the kitchen and immediately I stopped. I felt like it would have been a great gift from God if I had the superpower to turn  into an ant and I could scurry away from him, out of sight and out of any chance of embarrassment.