“I mean it, it’s cute. You’ve got to be cute with a name like Millie, right? You know you’re cute, don’t you?”
I swallow the saliva in my mouth and realize my salivary glands are not the only part of me that’s dripping. How in the hell does he do that?
“I…I guess so? I mean, I’m not uncute,” I reply. I smack my palm to my forehead. Uncute is not even a word, you moron!
“OK, OK, my producer is giving me the mom look right now so we’d better get to the meat of your problem. Don’t want a spanking from Mama tonight. How can Doctor Dave help you tonight, sweet Millie?”
Swallowing again, I kick shy, stammering, quivering Millie to the curb and get to the point.
“Well, I’m twenty-eight years old and still a virgin, and I no longer wish to be one. Problem is, I can’t seem to find the right guy for the job.”
Doctor Dave pauses for a moment.
“Virginity is so relative. A lot of people do lots of sexy things and still consider themselves to be virgins.”
I smile and say to him indulgently, “Yes, I know that, Doctor Dave. I’ve been listening to you for five years. I assure you I am as pure as the driven snow.”
He makes a strange, throaty noise, and I can’t tell whether it’s approving or disapproving. “Obviously we’re talking about penile/vaginal intercourse. What about digital penetration?”
I sigh and swallow nervously. This is really putting myself out there. I hope nobody recognizes my voice. “How about I tell you what I have done? It’s a much shorter list.”
He chuckles good-naturedly. “All right, baby, give it to me.”
Oh god, this flirty talk. I have to remind myself it’s not real. It’s only for the radio. But his advice is real enough, so I keep going.
“I held hands with Jerry Pulaski in the fourth grade during the couple skate.”
Long pause.
“I’m sorry, couple skate?” he asks.
I explain, “Yes. At the roller rink. They played ‘Waterfalls’ by TLC and called ‘couple skate’ and we skated together for the whole song and then when it was over, he didn’t say anything and I didn’t say anything. And we both went and sat with our friends and ate popcorn, and that was it.”
I chew on my lip and wait for him to reply, my feelings punching at the walls of my throat.
Chapter Three
David
I scrape the stubble on my chin thoughtfully. “And that’s it?” I ask her.
She pauses, and I smile. This is the kind of caller who reminds me why I do this job. Lately, I’m getting tired of the same problems. Same sound drops. Same catchphrases. Every night feels like the movie Groundhog Day, except in my version, there’s no amazing woman at the end waiting for me to stop fucking shit up.
This caller might just be the end to my Groundhog Day. This caller might even be worth my bike sliding home in the freezing rain after the show. I feel no pain when she talks.
“Well,” Millie stammers. “I kissed a boy I had a crush on during a game of spin the bottle in high school. But it was just a peck, and the guy was my friend anyway. He came out a week later as gay, and he assured me that I didn’t have anything to do with him being gay because at the time I didn’t know it doesn’t work like that.”
Normally, I don’t like it when callers ramble on, but something about her voice gets to me. I immediately like her. Her sweetness comes through in her shaky inhales and her soft drawl. But it’s not simply a saccharine surface. Lots of people seem sweet, but are just waiting for the right moment to strike with their venom. Millie, on the other hand, doesn’t hide anything malicious beneath what she shows to the world, and I have been doing this long enough to read people. Millie is—there’s no other word for it—pure.
“So you’re telling me there’s been no real kissing? No tongue kissing at all…with anyone?”
“Correct.”
The feeling of protectiveness rising up in my chest continues to grow. Now I’m conflicted about making good radio versus protecting her from revealing too much about her sex life to hundreds of thousands of listeners.
So I switch gears. “Millie, what do you do?”
“Couple of things. I work as a security guard, and I knit.”