Read Just Friends With Benefits Online

Authors: Meredith Schorr

Just Friends With Benefits (29 page)

 

“I’ll take my chances, but you’re not gonna die.”

 

We walked down the beach in silence and I heard Corky shout, “Go Steph!” and then Paul scream, “Jews don’t believe in cremation, right?” I stopped, put my hand on Hille’s arm and said, “I’m really scared, Craig. Don’t make fun of me.”

 

“I’m not making fun of you. You’ll be fine.”

 

We continued walking and when we reached the water, I jumped in shock. “Jeez, it’s freezing!”

 

“That’s cuz it’s not even June. It will feel good once you’re used to it.”

 

“Like sex?” I bit my lip, afraid introducing sex into the conversation would make things awkward.

 

Hille chuckled. “I didn’t need to get used to sex. Always felt good.”

 

“Cuz you’re a guy!” I was pleasantly surprised by his apparent comfort with the topic of fornication.

 

Hille winked at me. “Can’t help that—was born that way. Ready to go farther?”

 

I was just happy his wink no longer made my nipples stand at attention. “Not really, but it doesn’t look like I have a choice.”

 

“Nope, but I’ll hold your hand if it makes you feel better.”

 

I grabbed his hand and reasoned that it was okay since I was terrified.

 

Matter-of-factly, Hille said, “The waves are pretty calm. But we can stay here for now if you want.”

 

I noted this was the most serious conversation I’d ever had with him. “Why are you being so nice?” I asked.

 

Hille looked at me in surprise. “Why? Am I not usually nice?”

 

Embarrassed at the question, I shook my head. “Not what I meant. But why do you care if I overcome this fear?” We were standing knee deep in the water. Far enough to ride the smaller waves but close enough that my life didn’t feel threatened. It felt nice and I floated on my back, still holding Hille’s hand.

 

Hille leaned back and floated too. “I just think that some fears are reasonable and others aren’t. Life’s too short to live in fear.”

 

I motioned towards the water. “And could be shorter if we seek out danger!” I was relieved not to see any enormous waves coming toward us.

 

“Yeah, but riding waves close to the shore is not the same as jumping into shark infested waters in the middle of the ocean. I’m terrified of heights and so I bungee jumped last year.”

 

“Did you piss in your pants first”?

 

“No, but I thought I was gonna shit in them!”

 

I giggled, surprised that Hille would even joke about a bodily function. “Did you have fun though?”

 

“Not one bit. But I felt great afterwards. Was a natural high.

 

“Cool,” I said.

 

“Steph.”

 

“What?”

 

“We’re in pretty deep.”

 

I released Hille’s hand and stopped floating. Treading water, I asked, “What do you mean?”

 

He pointed out toward the water and let a wave move him along, “You’re riding the waves and not dying.”

 

I watched another wave approach me and jumped over. “You’re right!!!”

 

Hille smiled. “Feels good, right?”

 

“Feels awesome!” I agreed. “Craig?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Can we go back now?”

 

“Already?”

 

“Yeah. I’d like to quit while I’m ahead.”

 

Hille grinned at me. “Whatever you want. You did good, kid.”

 

“Thanks. Thanks for being so nice,” I said.

 

“Not a big deal.”

 

When we reached the shore, he asked, “You gonna go in again later?”

 

“Don’t push your luck!!!”

 

When we got back to the others, I high-fived everyone and grabbed a beer from the cooler. I felt like Super Woman. Hille was right. It was a natural high. I had to call Ryan.

 

As soon as he answered, I asked, “Guess what?”

 

“Okay, you’re already drunk at noon on a Sunday?”

 

“Nope! I just rode the waves for the first time since I was twelve!” I looked at Hille and whispered, “Thank you.” He shrugged his shoulders and mouthed, “Your welcome.”

 

“Awesome. Why not since you were twelve?”

 

“Chicken shit. But I did it anyway!”

 

“Good for you! Must feel good. Wish I could celebrate with you,” he said.

 

“Me too, but you’re here in spirit.” I took a sip of beer in his honor and whispered, “And I had a little beach fantasy before.”

 

“Was I in it?”

 

“Duh! You were the leading and only man. And you were really good. It was hot.”

 

“Maybe we can act it out when you get back.”

 

Looking toward the water, practically the same color as Ryan’s eyes, I said, “I look forward to it. So, how’s everything with you?”

 

“Oh, it’s great. It’s raining and I have soccer practice in twenty minutes and my goalie fell off his bike and hurt his knee. I’m thinking we’re not gonna go very far this season.”

 

“That sucks, Ryan. I’m sorry.”

 

“Me too. But it’s just soccer. I guess.”

 

“I miss you,” I said.

 

“I miss you too. Go chug a beer for me or something.”

 

“If you insist.”

 

When we hung up, I chugged the rest of my beer and fell back in my chair with a smile.

 

“For Christ’s sake, Stephanie. It’s not like you climbed Mt. Everest. Wipe the goofy grin off your face.”

 

I sat up and kicked sand towards Paul’s chair. “You’re
such
a buzz kill. I can’t believe I actually dated you!”

 

 

 

 

 
Forty-four
 

 

 

After cleaning up the steak dinner prepared by Denise, we sat around the large dining room table drinking and pondering the evening’s festivities. Paul suggested a game of Trivial Pursuit and to determine teams, we pulled numbers out of a hat. Both Hille and I picked two.

 

“Not fair,” Paul complained. “You got Hille. You’re so gonna win.”

 

“But it would be fair if you got Hille? Luck of the draw, Mister! And besides, I’ve accrued my share of useless information over the years too.”

 

Laughing, Paul said, “Sure, in the category of television trivia from the 70s, 80s and 90s.”

 

I turned to Hille. “I’m not that good at Trivial Pursuit, Craig, but I’ll try.”

 

Hille shrugged. “It’s just a game. I really don’t care if we win.”

 

Paul placed a pitcher of beer in the center of the table and put a shot glass next to each of us. “To keep things interesting, anytime one of us answers a question incorrectly, he has to do a shot of beer.”

 

“Why not a shot of tequila?” I joked.

 

“Just trying not to kill anyone, Cohen. But if you’d like tequila instead, it could be arranged.”

 

“No thanks. What about Jess? She can’t do a shot of anything,” I said.

 

We all turned to Jess who, looking apologetic, said, “I don’t have to play.”

 

It hadn’t really occurred to me how bored Jess might be watching the rest of us drink. “Of course you can still play! How about you do a shot of juice instead?” I suggested.

 

“Oh, that would be just swell, Stephanie. What a hoot.”

 

Feeling helpless, I looked at Hille, shrugged and whispered, “It was just a suggestion.”

 

He chuckled. “As you can tell, it went over real well.”

 

Eric stood up. “I’ve got an idea. Since I’m the one responsible for the unborn genius, how about whenever Jess answers a question wrong, I do a shot?”

 

“How generous of you,” Jess said. “You’re already high, you might as well get extra drunk too. Maybe I’ll even be lucky enough to clean the toilet when your aim is off later.”

 

Eric sat back down again and turned his chair towards Jess who was staring towards the ground. “Do we have a problem?”

 

Jess shook her head but refused to look at any of us. “I’m fine. I just never realized how annoying you all are when you’re drunk. I kind of wish you’d all pass out like Corky.”

 

No one said anything and I figured that, like me, they didn’t know how to respond. We just sat there and quietly scanned the room making eye contact with each other while Jess continued to look down. Finally, Paul slammed down his shot glass, breaking the silence. He stood up, walked toward the kitchen and said, “You’re absolutely right, Jess. We’re all totally annoying when we’re drunk.” Returning to the table with the bottle of tequila, he poured himself a shot, said, “Here’s to being annoying.” Then he poured Denise a shot. “Here’s to being annoying,” she said, before slamming it down. He then poured Hope a shot. Hope hesitated, looked at Jess and said, “I’m sorry sis!” before repeating the phrase and taking the shot.

 

Before Paul made his way to the other end of the table where I was sitting next to Hille, Jess stood up and took the bottle of tequila from his hands. She looked at me, Denise and Hope and said, “Someday you’ll understand how hard this is. I only hope I’m drunk when that happens.” Then she turned to Eric. “And as for you, my sweet husband, I’m sure I’ll come up with appropriate revenge for you insisting on taking your pregnant wife away for a week of non-stop drinking.” She poured Eric a shot, pushed it towards him and said, “Here’s to being annoying!” Then she started laughing. Everyone else remained silent.

 

I elbowed Hille who turned to me and whispered, “What?”

 

I whispered back, “Does this mean Jess isn’t mad anymore?”

 

“Not sure. What do you think?”

 

“I dunno,” I said. “Jess?”

 

Still laughing, Jess said, “Yeah?”

 

“Can the rest of us laugh now, too?”

 

Jess nodded. “Yes, Stephanie. My evil hormonal twin has left the building. Laugh away.”

 

“Cool. Someone do something funny so I can laugh.” I looked around the room and stopped at Paul, who stood up and began walking towards me with the tequila bottle.

 

“Obviously Trivial Pursuit is not in the cards for this evening,” he said. “Since we all know who would have won, I suggest that we just give them the prize anyway.” Then he poured Hille and me each a shot and said, “Good game, guys.”

 

Hille picked up his shot glass, winked at me and said, “Nice game, Steph.”

 

I smiled, said, “Nice game, Craig” and winced when the tequila hit the back of my throat. I forgot how nasty tequila tasted without salt and lime.

 

 

 

 

 
Forty-five
 

 

 

After two nights in a row swallowing down feasts of home-cooked meals with beer, I felt enormous and decided I had to go running before getting back in a bikini. I was hung over but knew that if I worked out, I’d at least feel better in a bathing suit, even if I looked exactly the same. I had crazy heartburn and a stubborn pounding on the left side of my head, but took two aspirin and forced myself out of bed while Denise was still sleeping.

 

When I dry heaved each time I picked up the speed or hit a hillier patch of ground, my 45-60 minute brisk run turned into a 25 minute slow jog before I gave up and headed back. I wheezed my way up the stairs through the front door of the house and heard voices I immediately identified as coming from Andy and Rachel.

 

“Someone’s up,” I heard Rachel say.

 

“Yup, it’s me,” I said. When I reached the top of the stairs and saw them standing in the living room, Andy casually dressed in a New Orleans Jazz Fest 2007 t-shirt and long shorts and Rachel dressed for the Kentucky Derby in a polka dot sundress and a white wide brim hat, I said, “I’d hug you guys, but I’m too sweaty. Welcome to the house!”

 

“Hey, Steph,” they said in unison.

 

“Is everyone else sleeping?” Andy asked.

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