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I'd been back at college about a month when I realised what was bothering me. I just couldn't get back into the swing of my old life since that night with Carl. My friends had noticed too, and were trying to get me back into all the fun we usually had. I'd convinced them it was because I'd had a row with my parents during the holiday and they seemed to believe it. It was a Friday night when it hit me, lying in bed after having sex with a young guy I'd met in the college bar. Now I'd had sex with an older, more experienced guy, I was just not going to be satisfied with boys my own age. My latest had been enthusiastic, but lacking in skill.

I didn't think for one moment that Carl would still be interested. Why would he be? The more I thought about it, the more pathetic it sounded - a 19 year old girl chasing after a man in his thirties, a man who was probably married, and someone my dad worked with. But I needed to know, and if he didn't want to "party" again with me, then at least I could move on. I found his phone number scribbled on the note pad, "next time you feel like partying, don't forget to invite me" was what he'd said as he left, but had he meant it? Was it just one of those polite things you say but don't really mean? I was having serious doubts and couldn't quite pluck up the courage to actually ring him, so I sent a text message instead, keeping it fairly light .. I didn't want to sound desperate, or like I was stalking him or something, so I sent "Hi Carl, its Becky. Thought I might have a party this weekend, if you're free" and left it at that. ...

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