Authors: H.M. Ward
Her jaw drops and she stares at me for way too long. Since we’re in moving traffic, it’s alarming. The girl is the worst driver I’ve ever seen. I’m having trouble not screaming. The light is yellow and about to flip to red and she’s not slowing down. “You have me beat. Beth Gallub from Seattle, the youngest of four siblings, with three overprotective brothers that follow me everywhere. Ten bucks says one of them shows up before your class later. No joke.”
“Awh, you’re the baby.”
“Psh. Yeah. It sucks monkeys, man. What about you? Do you have siblings?”
“Yeah, an older brother and a younger sister.”
“So, you’re the pathologically needy middle child.”
“Psych major?”
She laughs. “How’d you know?”
“A hunch. You seem like the kind of person who can’t pass a crying chick on the sidewalk.” I laugh and the rest of my nerves flutter away. I relax as much as I can pretend to with Beth driving. Seriously. People in Seattle must not think lines are important. The girl is all over the road.
Finally, she pulls into the parking lot for the Chinese restaurant. We get out, head into the buffet and grab a table.
After we eat and talk about our horrible first days—mine takes the loser cake—Beth leans back in the booth and watches me. “So, it’s rebound night, right?”
I shift in my seat and scrunch my face. “Not unless we’re talking about a cake rebound.”
Beth shakes her head. “The fastest way to get over a broken heart isn’t a lifetime in a shrink’s chair, it’s screwing another guy. That severs the connection, so the next time you meet a guy you’re really into you won’t compare him to your ex. If you still feel an emotional connection to your ex, you’ll compare sex with the new guy to sex with your ex—which will make you an emotional basket case.” She pauses for a second, then leans forward, a curious expression on her face. “What do you usually do to get over a guy?”
This feels personal and the urge to make something up comes over me, but I don’t do it. Instead, I tell her the lameball truth. “I haven’t broken up like this before. We were together for a long time.” My eyes drop to the table and my throat tightens, but there are no more tears. I won’t cry for him again, but that doesn’t ease the pain flowing from the center of my chest.
“Oh, that’s rough.” Beth glances over my shoulder and waves at someone. I don’t turn, because it’s just a passing gesture. She didn’t wave the person over, but before I know it, there’s a guy standing at the table. Beth rolls her eyes. “What did I tell you? This is my brother, Josh. One of them. This is Kerry. Note the boobs. She’s a chick. Now, leave me alone.”
My face turns bright red when she directs him to look at my chest, but he seems to be used to her antics. At least I hope that’s it, because he doesn’t look. Josh is a nice looking guy and faintly resembles Beth. He’s on the shorter side, built with broad shoulders and gold-streaked brown hair. It’s pulled back into a ponytail. “When you didn’t show up, Justin asked me to check on you.”
Beth groans and fake shoots herself in the head, before falling sideways into the booth, and then disappears under the table. “I have my own life,” she whines from the bench.
“Obviously. You’re very mature.” Josh flashes a smile my way and slips into the booth next to me. I slide over and Beth sits up, a plastic smile on her face.
“I am,” she says, smoothing her skirt and raising both her eyebrows excessively high. “Kerry and I were discussing rebound sex. Would you like to enlighten us with your wisdom regarding the best course of action following a break up?” She folds her hands on the tabletop and smiles like a deranged secretary.
Josh laughs once and looks over at me. “Was your relationship serious?”
“Very,” Beth answers for me. “What’s the best way to move on?”
He looks at me a moment longer than I expect him to. “I don’t know you, Kerry, but the only way to get over anyone is to move on. Rebounding is one way, but—”
Beth cuts him off. “But it’s not for the faint of heart. Oh my God. You’re such a dick. There’s no way in hell that I’m letting her hook up with you, assface, so drop it.” For a second I think Beth is being too harsh. He wasn’t going to hit on me, but then Josh laughs and relaxes.
He bumps his shoulder against mine. “Fine, but I had to try. She’s hot.” Glancing over at me he says, “Have sex with a stranger to cut the cords and wipe the slate clean. It’s the fastest way out of the hellhole you’re in right now. And I strongly suggest you pick the guy or some dickwad will play you.”
“Like you?” Beth asks, sticking out her tongue at him. Josh smiles.
“Exactly like me, and since I know Beth, you’d have to see me again, which would suck. My advice—pick a guy from a bar on the other side of the city, making the odds of running into him again unlikely.” He swipes Beth’s glass and downs the rest of her soda.
“So, people really do this? No one will think I’m a slut? It seems kind of crazy to walk up to some guy and say, what? I need to get laid. Wanna have sex with me?” This conversation is making me really uncomfortable.
Josh laughs. “Well, don’t say it like that. You sound crazy. You need to make him think you’ve done it before or you’ll set off his psycho-bitch alert.”
“Guys don’t have that, Josh. And does it really matter what she says? No one listens after they hear ‘do you want sex?’” Beth tilts her head to the side and makes a face, like she thinks guys are mindless zombie folk.
“You should tell him that you’re not looking for a relationship and ask him if he wants to do something. Let him offer.” Josh turns to me and studies the side of my face. “You’ve only been with one guy?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Was he good? Ouch! Beth, what the hell?” He shifts next to me and clutches his leg under the table.
“You can’t ask her that! I met her, like, an hour ago and you’re already asking if her ex satisfied her sexually? God, Josh! Go to the store and buy some manners.”
Josh cringes. “I didn’t say it like that.”
The two of them are like a comedy act. I can tell they love each other, but they both have very different, chaffing personalities. “It’s okay,” I offer, and they stop squabbling and look at me. “I don’t have a reference point outside of my ex—he was my first and only.”
Beth looks horrified. “You thought you were going to be together forever, didn’t you? Oh my God. Josh, don’t be a dick, hug her.”
I laugh nervously and scoot toward the wall, “Yeah, that’s okay. I really don’t—well, okay.” Before I can get away, Josh throws his arms around me and squeezes hard, mashing my body against his in a bear of a side-hug. I choke, “I’m fine. Really.”
“You poor kid!” He releases me and slips out. “Beth, I can head out there with you after seven. If you want to go before then, call Jace.”
Beth’s jaw tightens and she doesn’t look at him. “You’re not coming.”
Josh smirks and chuckles. “You’re funny.” He kisses the top of her head and Beth mashes her lips together like she’s going to explode. “See you ladies tonight. Oh, and Kerry—dress like you want a good time.” He winks at me and rushes out.
CHAPTER 3
I get dressed in Beth’s room out of fear my horrible roommate will figure out what’s going on and ruin it for me. I’ve only been here a few days, but she’s already turned half the dorm against me. Well, maybe that’s an overstatement, but it feels like truth.
Beth pulls a red dress from her closet. The neckline is a deep V and the fabric is slinky. “Try this. It’s my lucky dress. Guys will slobber all over you.”
I take it and look for a place to change, but the room is a box. There’s no privacy. Beth notices my hesitation and walks over to the closet. She pulls a door, leaving it halfway open. “Change behind here. How are you this old and still this shy?”
“I don’t know. Nothing turned out the way I thought it would. That’s all.” I strip my tee shirt off and slip the dress over my head before stepping out of my jeans.
“You realize that having sex with a random guy tonight means he’s going to see you naked, right? You can’t act like a virgin or you’ll freak him out.” The bedsprings give and I know she’s sitting down.
“What do you mean?”
“Uh, you can’t hide behind doors and under sheets. You have to strut around like you own that sinfully curvy body. I wish I had hips. I’m assless. It makes me sad.” Beth looks up when I step around the door. The dress is skintight. I tug at the fabric and try to pull the hemline down. If I bend over, my butt will peek out.
Beth jumps up and races over. “Holy shit. You look hot. Do you see this?” With a huge smile on her face, she pulls me in front of the mirror.
“I don’t know. You don’t think that it makes me look fat?”
Beth gives me a face that says she’d kill for my body, but it’s hard to believe. She’s cute and I feel bulky standing next to her. “You have it all—tits and ass with a tiny waist. Besides, sexiness is a state of mind. If you think you’re sexy, you will be. It’s confidence. Put on a fake persona tonight and toss your self-image issues out the window. We can blame your mother for ruining your life another time.”
Beth styles my hair and applies my makeup. By the time she’s done, I don’t recognize myself. My hair falls in silky waves and my lips are dark red. I look like a model. I look like someone else. It feels really weird to look into a mirror and not recognize the image staring back. I want to back out, but I can’t now. Beth is ready to go. She throws on a cute dress with a frilly skirt that comes to her knee.
“Why do you get to dress like that?” I’m practically whining.
Beth steps into her little black slippers and explains. “It’s for comparison purposes. If I’m wearing a little church dress, you look like the slutty one. All the guys will look at you first and ignore me, which is what we want.”
Once we’re both ready, we head to her car and make our way toward the other side of the city. For a second, I worry about what will happen when I actually get there, but Beth’s driving distracts me. Suddenly, I’m taking way too many deep breaths and trying not to scream. As she careens down a ramp insanely fast, my reflexes overpower my desire to be polite and I grab hold of the oh-shit strap.
Beth apologizes. “I don’t usually hit stuff. I promise.” Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better. I just nod. “Plus, this is a Volvo. You have my brothers to thank for that. They told my parents it was the safest car out there. They got cute little convertibles for graduation. I got a soccer mom car. Bastards. So what do you drive?”
“Nothing at the moment. I thought things would be within walking distance.”
“Yeah, they’re really not—unless twenty miles back and forth to the mall doesn’t faze you. We’ll have to go car shopping one day.”
Sure, if I live that long. By the time we get to the bar, I’m a ball of nerves. My stomach churns and I feel sick. I’m standing next to the Volvo in the parking lot, waiting for Beth. “I can’t do this.” I’m ready to jump back in the car, but she locks the doors before I can yank mine open.
“Yes, you can. You want to get over your ex, right?” I nod. “Then you know what to do. Listen, I don’t want to pressure you into anything. If you decide not to ask anyone, then don’t. But we drove all the way here. Let’s at least have a good time before we head back. Okay?”
I can do that. I can have a good time and laugh even though I wish I were at home, on my mom’s couch, crying like a baby. No, it’s fine. I can totally do this and Beth’s right. Just because I go inside, doesn’t mean I have to go through with it. I can chicken out.
Beth and I walk in and I instantly feel eyes on me. They travel over my body, overtly sizing me up. I won’t be shy and timid. Not tonight. As Beth and I head toward a table, I notice a guy looking me over and suddenly I don’t mind so much. Being desired feels good. We sit down at a table and order drinks. We sip and talk about nothing for a while. I’m not seeing the right guy and I don’t want to have sex with someone that doesn’t give me a good vibe. I don’t want a pushy guy. Actually, I prefer shy guys and realize this whole ‘
wanna do me?’
thing might not work on a shyer man.
Josh tries to join us, but Beth shoos him away, so he takes up residence at another table that quickly fills with women. How did he do that? He smiles a lot and has this lazy body language that seems to act like girl-nip. They go crazy for it.
After two hours, I’m ready to call it quits. “There’s no one here that’s even close to my type.”
Beth slurps the bottom of her daiquiri. “He doesn’t have to be your type.”
“Are you seriously advocating that I do it with an ug-o?”
Beth snorts and nearly chokes. “No! That’s not what I meant.”
“Good, otherwise I’d have to worry about you trying to pawn me off on one of the janitors in the dorm.”
She grins wickedly. “That was my plan for tomorrow night.”
“Loser,” I tease and shake my head.
“I’m not the one who can’t get laid,” she laughs. It’s weird how fast she feels like a friend. I kick her under the table. “Hey!”
“I can so get laid! I just want him to be…” my eyes drift across the room and I see him – Mr. Right. A guy is sitting alone at a back corner table, wearing a red ball cap. His face is downcast and there’s a sketchpad in front of him. My voice dies in my throat as I stare. He’s perfect.
Beth turns around in her seat. “Seriously?”
I pull my eyes off of him just as he looks up. “Why? What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing, if you like that serial killer vibe.”
“He’s an artist.”
“Ten bucks says there’s nothing drawn in that sketch pad.”
I don’t like her bashing my mystery man. “No, he’s not using that as a ploy. He’s real.”
Beth is trying not to laugh. “You are so naïve.”
“I am not.” I say it dreamily as I watch him move the pencil across the paper, and then flip it over, smudging the page with the eraser.
“Okay, so let’s make a bet. If he’s a fake, I win and you have to buy me a piece of cake. If he’s a real artist, then you win and you have to ask him. Deal?” I don’t answer. Instead, I squirm in my seat and try not to look at him. “What’s the matter? If he’s the artsy type, you found what you were looking for. If he isn’t, I get cake. It’s a good bet.”