“Spare change, please.”
I look up from my phone to see a man with tired, hooded eyes wearing a long coat.
“Sorry, I’ve got no change.”
The homeless man shuffles away, and my heart drops. I dig into my bag.
“But I’ve got this.” I go after him, holding out a Yorkie bar.
The man’s smile is like the keys on a piano. “Thank you,” he says, taking the chocolate.
“What’s your name?” I ask, just as he turns away.
He looks at me as though he has never been asked that question before. “Thomas,” he says, and his eyes crinkle as he smiles.
“Thomas. You know, I’ve always been fond of that name. Hey, do you know about the homeless outreach happening tonight?”
“Outreach?” Thomas looks confused. “Sorry, I’m not from around here.”
“Yeah, it’s on every Wednesday and Thursday from seven at the outside platform near Peckham library.” I look at my phone. “You’re in luck, they’ve just started. I think you should go. There’ll be food and drink and lots of friendly people.”
Thomas doesn’t need any further persuasion and clasps my hand. “God bless you,” he says, and I put my hand over his. Just seeing how grateful he is makes my throat catch.
“Do you know how to get there?” I ask.
Thomas makes a startled expression. “Come on, darling. I may not be from Peckham, but everyone knows where the library is.”
Inside, Costa is bustling. But I spot Joanna and Brian in the corner, sitting on the leather sofa side by side. I go toward them. Squint. Wait, is that . . . Nana?
“What are you doing here?” I ask her. I do the rounds of hugs before slumping in the chair beside Nana.
When she doesn’t respond, I sense that something is off.
“We need to talk,” she says finally.
“We?” I look around. Joanna gazes down. Brian lays a hand on the table.
“Yinka, we care for you,” he says.
I laugh. “Okay, what’s going on, guys? And Nana, why are you here?”
“I’m here because you’ve changed,” she says. “Not for the better.”
I flutter my eyes. “Oh great, this conversation again?”
“She told us.” Joanna finds her voice. “She told us about your plan and your out of character behavior—”
“Out of character behavior?” I shake my head. “Nana, I can’t believe you called my friends behind my back. And Joanna, Brian, you were the ones congratulating me for joining Tinder!”
“But we didn’t know,” says Brian. “We didn’t know you were vulnerable and in a bad state. But since Nana lives with you, she saw everything. She told us everything.”
I slump back in my chair. “Is this some kind of intervention?” I steal a quick glance at my phone again. Damn you, Marcus. Damn you!
Joanna itches the side of her face. “Yinka, you lied to Nana about going to counseling—”
My head swings toward Nana. I struggle to find an excuse.
“We’re worried about you.”
For some reason, Brian’s remark makes me laugh.
Nana nods to my phone. “You need to delete Tinder. Hand me your phone.” She goes to grab it; I snatch it away. “Hand it over, Yinka.”
“Guys! Guys!”
We continue to struggle as Brian bangs the table.
“Let go of it,” I grunt.
Suddenly, my phone buzzes and Nana backs away. I glance at the screen. Oh goodie, it’s Marcus.
“Marcus! Hey!” I swivel around so my back is facing Nana. I’m hoping I sound casual and not like I’ve just been wrestling with my best friend. “What happened to you? I’ve been trying to reach you. I called you like five times—”
“Fifteen times,” he corrects. “Fifteen.”
“Well, pick up your phone then,” I say, annoyed, and behind me I hear Nana ask JoBrian, “Who’s that?”
“I was worried about you.” I pout and run my fingers through my wig. “Are you okay? Did you lose your phone?”
Marcus inhales as though he’s breathing through gritted teeth. “Stop calling me,” he says angrily, and I blink in surprise.
“Okaaay, I know I called you fifteen times—”
“Fifteen times?” Nana cries.
“—but I was genuinely worried. I haven’t heard from you—”
“Well, you don’t need to be,” Marcus cuts in. “Stop calling me. In fact, don’t ever call me again.”
“Excuse me?” I feel like I’ve just been punched in the ribs and left to die. “Why?”
“We won’t work.” Marcus sounds short-tempered, not like the man I know. Or thought I knew.
“Marcus.” I can hear every tremble in my voice. “Are you—are you dumping me? Wait, is this because of what I told you?”
Marcus sighs as though I’ve been keeping him on the phone for hours. “We’re not together, Yinka. And look, you can’t expect a man to wait that long. It’s old-fashioned, and quite frankly I’m pissed off you weren’t honest with me sooner.”
“Honest with you?” I lose it. “Well, sod off and have a nice life, because I’m not compromising my virginity for anybody. I’ll find a man who’s happy to wait till marriage and I’m glad it won’t be you.”
I end the call, seething.
“What a jerk,” I say, swiveling around again. Shit, the whole of Costa must’ve heard that.
Brian and Joanna are visibly shell-shocked.
“Are you a virgin?” Joanna says, lowering her voice.
Under the table, Nana puts a hand on my knee.
“Yes,” I mutter eventually. Man, this is awkward.
Or is it?
Why shouldn’t I be proud that I’m a virgin? For years, I’ve compartmentalized my faith, worrying about what others might think about it. Well, I’m tired.
“I’m saving myself for marriage because in the Bible, sex is something sacred. And while I respect that everyone makes their own choices, I wish that society didn’t make me feel alien for mine. So, yup. There you have it. I’m a virgin.”
The silence that follows barely lasts a second.
“Yinka, you should have told us,” says Joanna, and Brian says, “Yeah, especially when we shared all those sex stories.”
“I don’t want you to stop being yourselves,” I say, looking between them. “And I don’t want you to treat me differently.”
“Then be yourself,” says Nana, giving me a long look. “You need to embrace who you are.”
“I think you being a virgin is commendable,” says Joanna with a light shrug.
“You do?”
Brian pushes up his glasses. “Totally,” he says. “You should be proud, Yinka. Not many people stick to what they believe in. Hey, you should get a T-shirt that says, ‘Virgin and Proud.’？”
“Okay, don’t get me that for Christmas,” I laugh, and my spirits lift. “Or my birthday. Or ever, actually.”
“And that Marcus guy sounds like an arsehole.” Joanna wrinkles her nose. “I would be grateful if I were you. You dodged a bullet.”