Chapter One: In Two Days

It's breaking you down

Heels clicked on a tiled floor. A smile rested on my lips as I strutted a little more for the stubby, stuffy men in their penguin suits, letting them have their fantasies that they could actually have this. There wasn’t a bank account or dick large enough in the world to have that happen for any of them.

Now that you understand there's no one around

I strutted with my head held high, inside my head ran a list entitled How To Fuck What’sHisFace Up—a list I seriously doubt I’d actually follow through on, because really, it was my fault. There was no one to blame, but me. I’d slipped. I’d fallen.

And this is the shit that happens when you get stupid.

Take a breath, just take a seat,

I continued to smile at the drooling fools that were eyeing me shamelessly, while swallowing the ‘what the fuck are you looking at’ that I wanted to spit at them like volcanic ash. If I was running this shit (this shit, being a magazine publication called Life & Times—specializing in bringing you the news necessary to make you a better housewife or husband (L & T thought househusband was more PC than kept man), lover, parent and citizen. There was even some international news. Some people thought we (and by we, I don’t really include myself) were trying to do too much, be too many things to too many people. Less than a decade old, L & T sometimes replies to such critics with a prompt and smartly wise “So!�), they would’ve kept their jaws off the floor a little better than that.

you're falling apart and tearing at the seams

One year of kindergarten, four years of elementary school, two years of intermediate school, two years of middle school, four years of high school, four years of college and a degree in Communications and all I had to show for it was a piece of fancy-looking paper that couldn’t do me any good except to wipe my ass with. All that work, all that sacrifice, all that debt—so I could get that damn degree. That damn degree which was supposed to take me somewhere. The only place it took me was here, working behind a desk as an assistant for more years than I care to think about.

Getting to my desk, I spied my boss Marge Howell coming out of her office. Marge embodied daintiness in every form of the word. Her gait, her style of dress, her make-up, her stature all brought about a seeming fragility to her appearance. Almost a porcelain doll without the potential creepiness (that is, if you’re the type to be creeped out by those kind of dolls). Until she opened her mouth.

Pushing a smile on my face again I said, “Good morn—“

“Coffee.�

When I neither moved nor spoke, she smiled, a sinister curl of lips. “Do I look especially great today as to explain why you’re just dumbly blinking at me? I said, go get me some coffee.�

I swallowed back every colorful word that would have gotten my ass fired in a heartbeat, not because I particularly liked this job, but because I can’t give her the satisfaction of getting to fire me.

I sleep with one person’s husband and it had to be a bitch’s who holds a grudge like Rosie O’Donnell’s death-grip on the last donut (thank Donald Trump for that simile).

Technically I never slept with him (her husband, because of course I wouldn’t sleep with Donald Trump, because as quickly as his multi-million bank account could turn me on, his hair and general physique would just as easily turn me right back off), but whenever he’d come around he’d make little flirting comments to me. I never said anything back. Just smiled and giggled and that was enough. I might as well have ripped the man’s clothes off and boned him right in front of her.

Apparently, she has trust issues on account of his trifling ass sleeping with nearly every woman he comes in contact with.

So even though, he failed to get me past a smile and giggle in Marge’s eyes I must have slept with him. Or would in the future and Marge just liked to plan ahead. So from that day on, literally from the first day I met the man, she’s been torturing me. She went from being the boss of anyone’s dream—nice, understanding, flexible—to the evil bitch from hell who was saving a seat for me.

When I first started working for Marge before the new fiction book deal, before talk show offers (which she’s so far refused every single one), before all of the TV, magazine and radio interviews, before all of those self-help books she’s pushed out year after year. When I started working for her, she was just a local San Fran celebrity—and barely that.

And I was just another one of many assistants, the only difference was the other ones were usually just interns. Interns who turn came back as college grads and became journalists for L & T and maybe even eventually needed assistants of their own.

As just another one of the lowly assistants, I tediously sorted all of the mail, going through and reading each one and then picking the better ones and reading those aloud to Marge.

As time went on and her popularity grew and grew to near combustion and people began whispering about her fifteen minutes of fame, which stretched out to hours and days, weeks and years—the phone was ringing incessantly, everyone wanted a piece of her (except for her husband, apparently). And one day I went into her office, as usual, to read her the letters that I thought were “worthy� of her attention (that’s what she said after awhile, only the ones that were “worthy�), then in mid-sentence she interrupted me and said, “Can you do me a favor?�

The favor turned out to be writing her column for her. She’d just listen to the letters being read and then quickly give me her thoughts on it and then I had to translate that into the four-letter wordless non-tirade about how pathetic they were (without, of course, saying that they were pathetic) advice reply.

"Are-are you sure? I mean, are you sure you want me to do this?"

"It's not rocket science. I can do it in my sleep now, in fact, most of the time it puts me to sleep. Be a little funny, a little maternal, big sisterly, you're not trying to reinvent the wheel here. You think you can handle this? Or is typing and getting coffee too much responsibility for you?"

"I can handle it."

And ever since then I have been handling it.

The column got more popular after I started writing for it, which Marge noticed and did I get a raise? A pat on the back? A 'good job' even? No, that only upped the ante on her hatred of me. Now I was deemed a no-good husband-fucker and column-stealer to boot.

Which wouldn’t really bother me if I was at least getting the pay or acclaim for my writing that she was. If I didn’t have a very strict ‘fuck no husbands’ rule, I’d fuck him now just so then the torture would be justified.

Heaven forbid you end up alone and you don't know why

I know what you’re thinking, probably the same thing that my friends have been saying to me every time I complain about this damn place: why don’t I just get a different job?

Hold on tight, wait for tomorrow,

Well other than not wanting to make Marge’s year, I have this weird thing about me. I like to eat. With a roof over my head. So because of this tiny peculiarity I must continue to work here, because with the job market being more about laying off than hiring nowadays I just can’t afford to do otherwise. Maybe one day I’ll lose that peculiarity though and start looking like Lindsay Lohan or Nicole Richie and get a new job. Or at least try to get a new one.

Until then, I’m stuck getting the coffee. With extra spit. Just the way she likes it.

you'll be alright

* | *

Uneventful.

That’s the perfect word to describe my day. Completely uneventful. Which was A-Okay with me because I’m oh-so very tired of the drama.

After a day of answering insipidly moronic letter after letter in between doing what Marge called my “real work� aka running her errands, I finally got to hop into my hoopty named Charlie (which I named that, because the guy who sold it to me looked dead on how Charlie Sheen had looked in “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off�—back when Charlie semi (if you squinted) had it going on) and blasted the radio the whole way home.

Not caring that people were staring at me at every stoplight. If they wanted to stare, then stare on with their nosey self—was my attitude.

It's on your face, is it on your mind, would you care to build a house of your own

And when I did get home, I made my daily mistake of checking the mail. Bills, bills, bills, bills, junk, bill, junk. Damn couldn’t somebody ever send me something in the mail that didn’t require me going deep into my pockets? I scanned the box to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. Nope, nothing.

Carrying my mail to my apartment, I spied Bragging Barbara, who I didn’t feel like being bothered with, coming out of her door. I didn’t care what award Barb’s child had won for this or that, didn’t care how much Barb or her husband had won at the boats, and definitely didn’t care to hear how Barb’s middle son, Kaleb was such a good man, but had such bad choice in women and how by the way, he’s single.

I didn’t care how nice, how good, or how single Barbara’s son was—marrying into that family was a big…oh hell no. Or a little one at least.

“Hi, Miss Barbara.� I said, ready to just keep it moving and walk on by, acting like I was in such a rush and had no time for small talk.

“Hey yourself.� Miss Barbara replied, without her usual exuberance and added nicknames. No ‘Hey sugar’ or ‘How you doin’, honey?’ No…nothing. Something was wrong. Damn.

“Something the matter, Miss Barbara?�

“Oh it’s nothing, baby. I can see you’re in a rush and I wouldn’t want to bother you.�

Something was wrong alright. And here I thought I’d be able to slide on by. Shoulda known, should have known.

“Aww, Miss Barbara, you know I always got time for you!�

And I did, Miss Barbara over the years had become like a second mother to me (that’s why I can be annoyed to see her, yet love her at the same time), or first—because sometimes I found it mighty hard to see my mother as anything more than the receptacle from which my life was begot. But don’t get me wrong, I love my mother. Lord knows I do.

Sometimes for the life of me, I don’t know why I do, but that doesn’t stop me from loving her anyhow. Miss Barbara was special though, and I don’t mean “special� in the new way the term has started to be defined as. Miss Barbara despite wanting to brag about every- and anything that happened to her and those close to her, she was a good listener and would be there for you anytime you needed her with a shoulder to cry on and fresh-baked cookies with a tall glass of milk (chocolate, white or strawberry…depending on your taste). And for that reason alone, if Miss Barbara needed something and I could give it to her, she need not want for it for too long.

She said, “Well, it’s Kaleb…�

When I sighed, she smiled. “I know you’re always telling me that you like being single and having your freedom, but I think if you just went on one date with Kaleb you could decide if that old maid life is really for you or not.�

I smiled. “I’m only twenty-five, that’s hardly an old maid.�

“So is that a yes?�

“Miss Barbara…� I sighed.

“One date. That’s all I’m asking for. Just one little date. An hour or two out of your time. You two go out and eat and if you don’t want to do it again then that’s fine. No hard feelings.�

“I don’t know…�

How much longer, how long can you wait,
It's like you wanted to go and give yourself away

“How does next Friday sound?�

“Like you’re not taking no for an answer.�

Grinning, she said, “I’m not doing this just for Kaleb, you know. This’ll be good for you too. I see some of those high-stepping scrawny boys you bring up in here that don’t stay more than a night. You need some quality in your life.�

Without arguing the probability that a son that she’d been trying to pawn off on me since the day she met me could actually be a ‘quality’ guy, I said, “I can’t go Friday, I’m going on vacation.�

I left off the ‘in two days’ part because today was Thursday and she wouldn’t take ‘I need to pack’ for a reason to get out of the date I’ve been avoiding ever since I moved into this apartment complex three years ago.

“A vay-kay, huh? Now that sounds nice! I can’t remember the last time Teddy and I went on a vacation. Where did you say you were going?�

I didn’t, but… “Jamaica.�

“Oh, yes, that sounds real nice. Real nice. I’m sure Kaleb would’ve loved to be able to go with you.�

“Okay.� I was backing towards my door now. “Well, I’ve gotta go...pack. Yeah, pack. So I’ll talk to you later.�

“We shall. We definitely shall.�

I’ve never been threatened before, and as innocent as those words seemed that sounded damn close to a threat to me. Without saying another word, I stumbled and fumbled my way back into the safe haven of my apartment.

I know what you’re thinking (other than that if I start making that phrase a serious habit, you’re gonna have to strangle me)—I should just bite the bullet, suck it up, give in and/or give up and just go on the friggin’ date with him. I would, I just…I don’t know what he looks like, what he sounds like, what he acts like. I don’t do well on blind dates.

My last blind date ended with my foot up some jackass of a guy’s ass because he didn’t seem to understand that telling me I had and I quote “nice tits� was not an acceptable compliment then reaching to feel them to see “if they’re real� was damn sure not going to fly.

For all I know, Kaleb could be the man of my dreams—though I seriously, seriously doubt that—but I can’t take the risk of winding up having to put my foot up Miss Barbara’s son’s ass.

Call me crazy, but I just don’t think that would help us to become better neighbors.

My answering message was blinking. Red light on. I pressed play. What’s his face’s voice filled the room. My finger lingered over the erase button, only to fall resignedly to my sides.

Heaven forbid you end up alone and you don't know why

I listened to the message, twice. First time, for rolling my eyes and griping over what an asshole he’d turned out to be. Second time, for sighing and wondering what it would be like when I didn’t get to hear his voice at all.

Hold on tight wait for tomorrow, you'll be alright

As I hit the erase button, my cell phone hummed. Text message coming through.

Greg 5:20PM
Are you home now?

I rolled my eyes, but found my fingers texting back anyways.

Georgia 5:21PM
No. I’m in Mars now.

Greg 5:22PM
Funny.

Greg 5:22PM
Did you check your messages yet?

Georgia 5:23PM
No.

Greg 5:23PM
Liar.

Greg 5:23PM
You erased it didn’t you?

Greg 5:25PM
I miss you.

Flipping through my phonebook, I clicked on what’s his face’s name. Waited as the call went through. At the first sound of his self-satisfied voice on the other end of the phone, I said, “Fuck you.�

He laughed and said, “Actually, that’s what I was wondering if we could…�

Heaven forbid you end up alone, and you don't know why

I hung up, cursing myself for calling him. The only thing that’s keeping me for truly going crazy was the thought that I was soon going to be away from all of this.

My cell phone hummed again. Another text.

Greg 5:27PM
For old time’s sake?

Hold on tight wait for tomorrow and you'll be alright

I swear sometimes with the way these so-called men act, if I wasn’t strictly dickly I would go lesbian. Nah, not even then. Bitches piss me off too.

It’s a damn good thing that in a matter of 48-hours I was going to get to tell San Fran and everybody left behind in it to kiss my black ass, ‘cause I’ll be off to Jamaica to get my groove back.

Hopefully, Stella already took the temptingly tasty, too good to be true, because it is—really a gay man off the island. That would be just my luck though if she didn’t.

Heaven forbid you end up alone

Greg 5:29PM
I really do miss you.

and you don't know why

* | *
Trace and Jess had a two bedroom apartment. So when my old apartment complex burnt to the ground, I got to move in with my two best friends, which doesn't sound bad on the surface.

A fire that started because some brilliant guy had been setting up for a Valentine’s Day surprise for his sweetie and had set candles all around the room then remembered that he’d forgotten to pick up the dry cleaning and no knowing how much she hated his forgetfulness he skipped out the door to get it, forgetting about a candle that he'd left resting against a drape.

When he returned proudly with the dry cleaning, his sweetie was standing in the parking lot with the rest of the tenants watching the complex go up in flames.

From where I was eavesdropping, I couldn’t help but overhear their conversation that went a little something like this:
Stupid: “I went to go get the dry cleaning." (finally notices the raging fire) "What’s happened?!�
Pissed: (silent)
Pissed: “You happened. Just like you happened to my great-grandmother’s urn. Just like you happened at my niece’s ballet recital when you somehow convinced the people that you could fix the lighting. I tried to tell them to just postpone the show, just wait ‘til a professional comes.�
Stupid: “It wasn’t permanent damage. They said the cast was only gonna be on the little boy for a month at most.�
Pissed: “It was a full body cast, Frank! A whole row of child-sized lighting fell on him.�
Stupid: “It was an accident.�
Pissed: “It’s always an accident with you. I bet you’re going to say you accidentally left a candle against the drapery too.�
Stupid: “Shit.�
Stupid: “I’m sorry. I was just trying to make everything perfect. I was…�
Pissed: “My computer is up with there, y'know. My entire manuscript. The one I’ve been working on for the last two years.�
Stupid: “Maybe…maybe they saved it. You know, the fire fighters.�
Pissed: “Our apartment is charcoal. Wanna know why? Because you left the fucking door open, Frank! You forgot to close the goddamn door! So maybe, maybe even if you hadn’t managed to burn the whole building down, maybe some person less idiotic than you would have just waltzed in through our unlocked and wide open door and stolen my goddamned motherfucking laptop!�
Stupid: (silent)
Stupid: “But if that did happen, then at least we’d be warm and toasty inside.�

That was about the time that she leapt on him, claws out. Sara had extremely long nails. They were pretty strong too. Not one broke or even chipped when she was digging them into his neck and arms. Or when she was thrashing around when someone eventually decided to help Frank. There was a rock, paper, scissors contest first before that happened. Not that we didn't like Frank (even though he was a complete moron who'd just burned all our homes down, we still liked him) or as if we didn't want to help him, but it was just that Sara, Ms. Calm and Peaceful, Love Not War, was whooping the mess out of Frank at the moment and none of us was exactly clamoring to get in the middle of that.

It was the best two out of three. Billy from the first floor lost.

Apparently, losing doesn't make you a total loser, because though he may have lost the rock, paper, scissors matches and gained several scratches and an elbow to the face, he also lost his virginity that night. Turns out a little blood, a little psychoticism tinged with pent up aggression and a lot of burnt down apartments brings out the freak in Sara.

A few weeks later Billy and Sara were married. Sara wrote a new story about an idiot who had idiot friends and idiot family members and it’s never quite sure which decade they’re in (80’s? 90’s? 2000’s? Who knows), I think she named him Napoleon Dynamite. From the sounds of it, it doesn't seem like anyone would actually go and pay money to see it in the theatres, but everybody's still hoping for the best for her.

Frank got hit by a car. A mercedes driven by one of Matt Damon's kids. I didn't even know Matt Damon had kids. Needless to say, Frank is kind of rich now. So I guess it all worked out. For them.

The fire was months ago. Since then I’ve been living in the bedroom which conveniently shares a wall with Jess’ and Trace’s bedroom—so I’ve heard all the noises. Subsequently, I haven’t been very good at keeping my dinner down.

Currently, I was lounging on the couch, not looking for another place to stay, despite waking up with that thought every morning when I hear their sunrise session. I already told them I was getting them a new bed-frame for Christmas, the creaking is ridiculous on the one they have right now. I knew I'd been here too long when I'd started to name the different creaks.

They said I didn’t have to worry about that, because by that time they would’ve kicked me out.

I just laughed because (1) I knew there was no way in hell I was going to make it living here that long anyways—bouts of laziness be damned and (2) well there is no two, but I know I won’t be here for Christmas unless I decide to take up the lease myself, because by then they should be the ones long gone.

Trace had finally decided to gather his balls and tell his father that being a fashion designer was his dream job and explain how it was a real job and no, “that fashion stuff� as his father called it wasn’t just for “the queer boys.� So now Jess and Trace were California bound, leaving me all by my lonesome in Florida.

And before I could even think about what that would be like, Trace was already busy trying to convince me that California was where I needed to be.

“Wasn’t it you who just last week was threatening to kick me out?� I frowned at him, propping my feet up on the coffee table.

Smacking my feet back down, he said, “That’s only because once you and Tegan called it quits, you went into Super Bum mode. You were stinking up the place. People thought I was running a zoo in here or something.�

“Whatever.�

“You weren’t bathing, man!� He laughed, shaking his head. “Anyways, I’m just glad you’re over that. My olfactory glands thank you.�

“Whatever.�

He only let a minute go by before he said, “In Cali you could surf.�

“I could surf here.�

“Well, Cali has playboy bunnies.�

“Florida has boricuas.�

“Okay, but Cali’s gonna have your best friend. Florida definitely won’t. And you know you can’t make it long without me. It’s kind of sad, actually.�

Walking in with two beers in hand, Jess said, “Will you stop badgering the man? Damn.� She added, handing over the drinks.

“Thank you, Jess.�

Smiling at me for a moment, she said, “You’re just wasting your breath.� She took a seat on the armrest next to Trace. “We both know he’s going to follow us like a lost little puppy.� They both laughed, knowingly, at this.

Watching them together was the best of times and the worst of times. Not really, but if it were, the best of times seems like it would be awfully creepy, don’t you think?

They’re a good couple. They’re a dream team. The type of couple you hate to be around during Valentine’s Day, not because they would be overly affectionate or anything, but sometimes they just gave off too much happy couple glow. And too much happy couple glow was detrimental to a single person’s emotional health.

As Trace’s fingers ran lightly over Jess’ arms, I remembered what it had felt like to stroke her soft skin, to pull her hair and have her scream my name. Whose is it? Oooh, ooh, god. Whose is it? Ooh, fuck. Yours. Ooh, fuck me. Mmm, all yours. What’s my name?

“Justin!�

Laughing nervously as I blinked back into focus at the sound of the voice, I cleverly covered up with a well said, “Huh?�

Jess smiled at me for a bit, as if she was trying to figure out where my mind had wandered off to. “So since we’ve decided that you’re moving to Cali, now you just have to get ready to come with us to Montego Bay.�

“Aren’t y’all going as some kind of pre-honeymoon thing?�

“Well, yeah, kinda.� Trace said with a shrug, as if that wasn’t weird at all.

“So why would I want to go and spend my time as some kind of freakish third wheel?�

“Oh, shut up.� Jess chimed in. “It’s no different than what you do here. Just add in some tropical weather and hey mon accents.�

“Yeah, doesn’t matter where it is. You’re the freakish third wheel. Love it. Embrace it.� Trace said, getting up and pulling me into a tight hug. “But it’s not going to be all fun and games, you’re there to keep the wedding planning going, while Jess and I do…other things.

Groaning, I pushed him away. “Please don’t continue down that thought path. I’m not ever gonna be drunk enough for that.�

I didn’t bother arguing anymore because, well, Jessica was right (you won’t be hearing me saying that very often). I was the lost little puppy without them. It was sad, pathetic, actually. But I cursed my-damn-self to be forever and always the freakish third wheel.

Since college it had been the three of us. We were the three musketeers (and yes, we really used to call ourselves that. Out loud and completely sober). From freshman year on we were all very close.

I’d always been protective over Jess when it came to the guys she dated. I always said I only acted like that because I just loved to piss her off that much and they both believed me because according to them, I was “that immature and would do something like that.�

I never once thought that it might mean that I was in love with her. That is, until she told me she was getting married. To my best friend. Our best friend.

So how is this a curse I brought upon myself?

Because in my denial phase, I’d set the two up on a date. A blind date. It was supposed to just be a joke. Turned out that the joke was on me, three years later when they were announcing their engagement.
_____________________________________
This chapter features: The Fray - Heaven Forbid

Chapter Two: The Land Of The New Dick
Old people.

Everywhere I looked there were old people. Laying on the water’s edge looking like beached wrinkly whales. There were droves of them as if they’d all planned this assault on my libido. So that I could never get my groove back. In fact at the sight of some of these old men, old enough to easily be my grandpa, who didn’t even try to hide their leering, I’m sure my groove—wherever it was—was in the process of curling up into the fetal position and dying a slow and painful death.

At the first sight of the waves of old folks, I got paranoid thinking that Miss Barbara’s excitement over my vacation had led her to follow me and then ambush me with that damn date with her son. It's been four days now and still no sign of her. Good. I hope I don’t see her at all until I get back to San Francisco.

The only bits of San Fran that I’d brought with me were my girls, Tasha Tatum, Farrah and Fallon Pierce. Farrah and Fallon, the sisters who happened to be twins. Two-egg twins that needed their own space from the start.

Farrah's crazy and drinks like she has a lifetime hidden supply of extra livers just laying around somewhere available for her disposal, but once she decides not to hate you, she's really quite likable. Tasha, on the other hand, is the calm before everyone's storm. The shy one, who looks like a model and eats like one too. The rabbit diet—organic everything, lots of water, and smoking (mostly when she's nervous or agitated). Tasha had been Farrah's addition to the group. One day she wasn't there, then the next:

"Hey, this is Tasha. Tasha, this is the other half of my crazy and the one who calls herself the best friend of the former."

Farrah had just smiled back and forth between Tasha and Fallon and I. Back and forth.

After our awkward smiles and hello's, there was just silence, until Tasha did what Tasha did best.

"So...I've heard a lot about you."

I frowned. "That can't be good."

"It's not." She laughed. "But I'm all about giving people a chance to prove themselves before I make any judgments."

"What did she say?" Fallon said to Tasha, but was glaring at Farrah who just smiled more.

"She told me, I couldn't say." Tasha shrugged. "You know, actually you two do look a lot alike."

"I think what you're seeing is their permeating aura of evil."

The twins, of course, didn't take any offense to this and rather instead laughed their conspiratorial laugh that I'd come to know and dread over the years.

And that was pretty much that. Tasha was indoctrinated into the group rather seamlessly.

Right now, our foursome was split as it usually splits. Tash and Farrah gone one way, me and Fall gone another.

Tasha and Farrah had wandered off in search of a nearby place to get toasted. Farrah had said she only wanted one drink. It was two in the afternoon, but time of day never caused Farrah to put a pause on her drinking and one drink was never one drink for her.

Fallon and I were lounging on the beach. Not saying much, there wasn't much to say. Fallon was reading He's Just Not That Into You when my cell went off. I glanced at the name that came up but that's all I did.

Frowning at me and into the sun, Fallon said, "Aren't you going to answer that?"

"It's just Marge."

"Why is she calling you again?"

"Cause she's Marge and must've been having a really bad off-day when she decided to give me this vacation time and now she wants to renege, but it's too late, because thankfully I've already gotten my ass out of the country."

"You could get another job, you know. You don't have to keep putting up with her shit. I bet if you just even acted like you were seriously considering leaving, she'd act right again. You know and she knows that she needs you, especially since you're the one writing the column now."

"She tells me what to write."

"She says things like, 'Oh, so it bothers you when your husband jokes about your weight? Well, maybe if you weren't such a fat cow there wouldn't be anything to bother you, now would there? Eat less, drag your fat ass off the couch more. I know this might sound crazy, but the walk to the fridge and back to the couch isn't enough exercise, especially when you're calling your children to get the food for you, so you don't have to move out of the crater your double-wide ass has forged into the couch cushions. Better yet, keep eating. That way when you die of a heart attack, the joke will be on him because then it'll be up to him to get creative on how to dislodge you from the couch and shove you out the door.'"

A lop-sided grin curled my lips as I shook my head. "She's not that bad."

"You're right. She's worse." She laughed, shaking her head. "Why do you always defend her?"

"She's a bitch, but she wasn't always like that. It's her husband mostly. She's just very insecure because of him."

"Whatever, then she just needs to take some of her own harsh advice and tell him to kick rocks, go to hell, drop dead, or go Lorena Bobbitt on his ass."

I shrugged. "She loves him."

"But he doesn't love her."

I nodded. I knew that and Marge probably did too. Maybe that's part of her problem. I said, "But she loves him."

"And you think that's a good enough reason to be a complete bitch to someone who's been nothing but good to her and is the reason for her more recent success?"

"I'm not saying that that makes it okay. I'm just saying that that's what makes it what it is."

Neither of us said anything for awhile. Fallon went back to her book. And I went back to looking at the disappointing manscape. When out of nowhere, Fallon said, "Who the hell are you? And what have you done with my lovably narcissistic best friend, Georgia Michaels?"

"What, I can't be understanding and sympathetic?"

"No. Generally, mostly, nearly always, no. Hell no." She laughed and I rolled my eyes, but laughed too. "You know what her problem is? The same thing your problem has become: old dick. You're stuck on the one that's passed its expiration date. It's rotten and yet you keep holding onto it and stinking up the place in the process." She made a sweeping gesture with her arm, as if to show off what all I had to look forward to here. "And this is the land of the new dick. So let's go take our clubs, beat some unsuspecting fools over the head and drag them back to the hotel."

"Seriously?" I said, trying really hard not to imagine myself with one of these old geezers, as I watched Tasha and Farrah make their way back over to us.

She frowned at me, a hand on her hip. "Don't give me that tone. That tone or that look. That was my rallying the troops speech, for better or worse and that's all I got for you right now. 'Cause I'm five miles to empty, my heart is runnin' low."

Tasha and Farrah were back and didn't hesitate to start singing along."Ooh, whoa, whoa, I need a good man to fill me up! I need a good man to give me lovin'!"

"Y'all non-singing heffas would turn this into a bad musical."

* | *
I could be the first to let you know

“Get up.�

That nothing means anything

I was laying in the middle of the bed, face up, eyes closed. Agreeing to come to Jamaica with them was a mistake. Moving in with them was a mistake. If there was a mistake to be made, it seemed like that's the direction that I was headed lately.

Jess and Trace had one room, I had the other. We shared an adjoining door. The walls weren't thick enough. I was tired of pretending like them holding hands or constantly smiling at each other as if they hadn't just been each other's faces all day wasn't annoying to me. I wanted to be happy for them. I just wanted to be happy for them from afar.

Now I'm standing here outside your door
in the pouring rain

I opened one eye, but didn't move. Trace was standing by the end of the bed, frowning at me. “What?�

“You heard me.� Trace nudged me, before sitting on the bed beside my feet. “Get up. I didn’t ask you to come so you could switch moping scenery. I thought you were over this.�

And I can't believe nothing's supposed to get to me

“Me and Tegan were only together for two weeks, you really think I’m going to mope around over that?� I said, hoping that that's what he thought the problem was. “By the way, this is not moping. This is just prolonged thinking.�

Now I'm in this misery

“Thinking?� He chuckled. “Maybe that’s your problem right there. You don’t know how to think. Thinking doesn’t mean you sit around all day in a hotel room when you’re in Ja-friggin-maica.�

“Why did you ask me to come here?� I said, sitting up.

“Honestly?�

“Preferably.�

The corners of his mouth curved upwards slightly, before he let the smile fall in a sigh as he got up from the bed and walked over to the window. He sighed again and said, “I dunno. I know we said the whole keeping the wedding planning going thing, but you could’ve done that better back in the States.�

“So," I started, "why am I here?�

“If you’re not around," He said, turning from the window to face me again. "whose life do I compare mine’s to, to feel better about myself?�

Rolling my eyes, I went back to laying down, face up. “You’re getting married. You’re pursuing your dreams. What’s so wrong with your life?�

"The problem with being best friends with my wife’s best friend is that if I tell you something, it’s almost guaranteed that she’ll hear it too.�

“So this is about Jess?�

If ever there was a time to change the subject, it would be right about now.

“No, this is about Tegan.�

I frowned. “You didn’t even like Tegan.�

“Why do I even talk to you?" He groaned. "The walls would have better things to say.�

“Okay, I’m serious now. This is me serious.� Sitting back up, I ran a hand through my hair. When he didn't immediately say anything, I let us sit in silence for a few more moments, before I reluctantly said, “So talk.�

“We’re not having problems. So don’t even think that. You weren’t already thinking that were you?�

I shook my head. “No, I wasn’t. You two are great together.�

Good. So far so good. No lies, thus far. They are great together. They're annoyingly great together so that makes what I've...we've been doing to all the more worse.

“We are. We really are." He nodded. "You think so?�

Half smile, half frown. I said, “Are you getting cold feet?�

Wholly frowning at me, he said, “My feet are toasty. What are you talking about? I’m in Jamaica. My feet are fine.� He started to pace in the small area from one wall to the other the wall. I just watched him for a bit, in confusion, before he finally stopped. Glancing out the window, he said, “What about…�

“What about what?�

“I mean, what if…" He glanced at his toes, and chuckled softly, shaking his head as he looked back up at me. "I know it sounds crazy, but what if…" Window. Toes. Me. He sighed. "What if... maybe her feet weren’t so toasty?�

Bad, very fucking bad. I took in a deep breath, pushing it out before clearing my throat. I tugged on my collar. Coming with them was becoming more and more of a mistake.

I can't be with anyone since I felt our worlds collide

After I'd left us in silence and when I'd finally made eye contact again, his nervous energy had gone down several notches, and suspicion had risen to take its place. Watching me carefully, he said, “What’s wrong? You know something.�

It's like I almost died

I tried not to fidget under his scrutiny. When it comes to flat out lying, I was never very good at it. But it didn't stop me from trying. “I don’t know nothing.�

“Double negative asides, under normal circumstances I wouldn’t doubt that, but you know something.� His eyes narrowed at me. “What do you know?�

The way you make me feel
I'm changing, got me breaking down inside

Trying to shut down all emotion from my face, I said,“Why would I know anything?�

“Because you’re her best friend.�

“You’re her best friend, too.� I countered.

“I’m about to be her husband.�

“What does that mean? You stop being her best friend because you’re about to say ‘I do’?�

Dismissing my words with a wave of his hand, he said, “You can’t have two best friends anyways.�

I frowned. “Who made that rule?�

“Two people can’t be the best. Defeats the purpose of saying best.�

Still not good, but at least getting better. The further this pointless line of conversation went the better for everyone. I said, “Don’t you have two best friends?�

“No.�

“What?�

“I have two really good friends. Two great friends. But only one best friend.�

“Are you demoting me? Was this your long-winded way of telling me I’m demoted?�

“You can’t be demoted if you were never at the top anyways.�

“So I was never your best friend?�

“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying…� He frowned and sighed. “Okay, now I don’t even remember what I’m talking about. But the point is this, one best friend. For some reason, for me that’s you. One soon-to-be wife. Two cold feet. And you know something, so tell me.�

A smile that I couldn't stop even if I had wanted to was stretching across my face. This once pointless line of conversation was starting to feel just a ounce less pointless. “I’m your best friend.�

He groaned, covering his face in his hands. “You’re missing the point.�

“That was part of it. The first part.� I opened my arms and waited.

“What are you doing?�

“Waiting for my hug.� My arms were still open and waiting as he continued to frown at me and back away.

“I’m not going to hug you.�

“I’m your best friend. Yes, you are.� I said, getting up out of bed.

And as easy as it was to tackle Trace and pull him into a tight hug, I'd managed to dodge actually having that conversation. Here's to hoping that he doesn't bring it up again.

Somewhere during all this, Jess walked in. Laughing, shaking her head, she said, “I turn my back on you two for a few seconds and you get all brokeback on me.�

* | *
They were finally done singing. And once they'd stopped, they all slowly came to the same sad realization I'd already had. The land of the new dick, wasn't new at all. All of these decrepit flaccidly joyless-sticks were all well past their expiration date and needed artificial batteries to get their motors humming, which then might result in an 8-hour run, which then would result in an embarrassing trip to the hospital.

So they stopped singing. And our Jamaica or bust trip was officially busted.

“I’m not going to let you, or you, or you ruin this for me." Farrah said, turning away from the old man walking by in a male thong and staring at each of us. "I’ve always wanted to go to Jamaica and I’m going to enjoy it. We’re all going to have fun.�

To that the rest of us a chorus of pathetic ‘yeahs.’

“Okay, so what that the airport lost our luggage for two days. So what that there’s more dread-lock wearing, old white wrinkled bodies littering the beaches than number of times Britney Spears has remembered to put panties on before going out in public lately. So what that just earlier today when y’all were all too lazy to get out of bed, I went swimming and decided to go to a beach instead of the hotel’s pool and got stung by a jellyfish and wound up having to get some random guy to piss on my leg.� she said, frowning down at her leg for a moment, as we all looked at her with disgust. “So what! We’re here. And we’re all going to have some goddamned motherfucking fun, dammit!� she cried and the rest of us answered with silence. “Did y’all bitches hear me?!�

We all knew how crazy Farrah's crazy ass could get once she'd resolved herself to do something, so jumping up, the rest of us all said some variation, “Fun, fun. Look, I’m having fun.�

Satisfied now, Farrah nodded and started to lead the way to God knows where. Turning to the other two, I said, “Has her head stopped spinning yet?�

We laughed, until Farrah turned around and fixed us with a solid glare.

We stopped laughing.

* | *
Baby can't you see, you ruined me

It hadn't been long after Jess had gotten back from her day of getting pampered at a nearby spa (which is so different from what she does every other week back in Florida) that I found myself listening to the sounds of their headboard banging against my wall as the sounds of their moans floated through a connected vent directly into my room. It was by the second or third "Oh, Daddy, oh, Big Daddy" from Jess that I decided Trace was right.

I needed to get the hell out of this hotel room.

But it was only once I'd rush out that I realized it was raining. Or rather, more like pouring. And of course, I didn't have an umbrella, but I didn't want to go back there, so I just trudged through it. And with no money in my pocket, my only option for transportation was my feet. My feet which led me straight to the beach.

A deserted, ugly beach. One that would've never made the cut to get on a brochure.

This trash littered scene was not the one that sent young couples rushing off to enjoy each other in paradise. This gloomy, lonely beach was not paradise, it was the other side of paradise, the side that nobody visited because it wasn't pretty enough, because it wasn't smiling enough and wasn't glad to see you. This side didn't welcome you with open arms, more like you just walked into its domain and it wouldn't say anything to you, wouldn't look at you, but would maybe grunt and hand you a beer.

And that's exactly the kind of paradise that I was looking for. The pretty stuff was for people like Trace and Jess. And they could have it. This was for me.

For life

Laying back into the sand, I made sand angels as the rain continued to fall.

* | *
This place was trippy.

We were at some crazy strobe light heavy club called The Twilight Zone. And while there wasn't nearly as many as old guys around, there was still a few creepy ones who didn't even bother to hide their leering. Though at least they were keeping their distance.

I was sipping on an amaretto sour, talking to Fallon when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Turning, I immediately sized the guy up. Too short. Not nearly cute enough. With an easter egg colored suited on and a cocky ass smile like he just knew he was the shit. Well, he was, if we were just talking about smell. Guess he'd never heard of a dab'll do ya.

Before he could even get a word out, I said, "No."

"No? No, what? I didn't even get a chance to say anything."

"And it was better that way. Your breath damn near gave me third degree burns."

"Bitch." he said, walking away.

Shaking my head, I said, "What number was that?"

"I'm not sure, kinda lost track after the twelfth whack ass you rejected." she laughed.

"Why are we even still standing here?"

"Because little Miss Farrah has threatened to kill us several times if we don't start having some fun."

Farrah was currently dancing on the bar right now, holding several guy's attention as she shucked and jived, reveling in the attention.

"Looks like she's having more than enough fun for the rest of us."

Then she slipped off the bar, one hoochie pop too many, and almost face-planted onto the ground before some guy caught her.

"Now ain't that about a bitch, the only half-way decent looking guy up in here...and she falls right into his arms. If I had've put my ass up on that bar and fell off the only thing I've been catching is my teeth after I busted my head open on the floor."

"And if you had of done that then I could have been getting my flirt on with a cute ass Jamaican doctor." Fallon sighed, dreamily. "You're selfish, girl. Always thinking about yourself. Just selfish."

I laughed, until I felt another tap on my shoulder. Turning around slowly, I looked him over. Tall. Pretty blue eyes. Dark, curly hair. He was pretty cute, especially when he smiled. Smiling back at him, I took his extended hand.

Holding my hand, he said, “I noticed you from across the room and thought to myself, a woman as fine as yourself shouldn’t have to buy her own drinks.�

“Oh really?� I smirked, struggling not to roll my eyes at that. “But I really don’t need another drink, but thanks anyway.� I said turning my attention back to Fallon.

He stood there confused for another second or two, before he walked away.

“Why’d you do that? He was nice enough, didn’t come at you with some of the lame lines the rest of these sorry ass men were trying to spit. I didn’t hear not one ‘Yo baby, let me holla at you,’ no ‘I lost my number can I have yours?’ no ‘Did it hurt? …when you fell from heaven.’ No ‘Is your pants made of glass? …because I can see myself in them.’ No… �

“Alright, alright…I get it.� I laughed. �And I know all that, I’m just testing him.�

“Testing him?�

“Yeah, to see if he’s really interested.�

“He came over here didn’t he?� Fallon said, looking just as confused as that guy had. “Isn’t that enough?�

“No.� I said, rolling my eyes at her, because we've been over this before. “Look, right now if he’s really interested, he’s slunk back over to his boys and is in the process of coming up with plan B. If not, then he’s probably called me a bitch under his breath and is off trying to whisper new sweet nothings in some other girl’s ear.�

“Girl, you crazy.�

“We’ll see…� I said, coyly sipping my drink while glancing his way. He’d been looking at her and once I noticed him doing so, he was quick to look away. Oh yeah, he was interested. A little confused, but interested nevertheless. It’s not like a little confusion ever hurt anybody anyways.

“And if he comes over here again? Then what?�

“Then…we talk, or dance…or do whatever it is he proposes.�

“So if he comes back and says ‘Hey, I got something in my car I wanna show you.’ You’d go?�

“Hell no! ‘Sides the fact that I’m almost certain he wouldn’t say that cause he doesn’t seem like the creepy type, I’m still not sure I wanna go home with him.�

“You don’t know yet? Hmm, either this one is special or maybe this is just your womanly senses telling you not to go there with him, cause usually you make up your mind within the first seconds of meeting someone.�

I laughed, but nodded. “Yeah, I know. And I dunno if it’s good or bad thing, but I’m getting the feeling that with this one I should think about it.�

“Well don’t think too hard…wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.�

As we laughed, I made eye contact with Blue Eyes again. “Girl, hush.�

* |*

I will be the last to let you down

"You know just because you got rejected doesn't mean you have to hide out in the restroom like a little bitch. You should be used to this by now."

That was Jess. I had currently in the one of the stalls, just sitting there, trying to remember why I had even wanted to come out to this club in the first place. I had never particularly enjoyed the club scene and it's not because I can't dance, because I can get down when I want to. I'm just more of a bar person. Sit down, chill, get drunk, maybe break some bottles over some random dudes head, get kicked out and stumble back home. Now that was fun.

This was not. The club scene required more effort. You had to look the part, it wasn't a come as you are kind of place. You had to play the role, be suave enough to catch the eye of the ladies here. Bar women--not to say they were easy, but, yeah, they were easy. Or at least easier. Their delusions of grandeur weren't so high in the sky as the club going women's were. And I just wasn't in the mood to play that game tonight. Tonight I wanted easy. Tonight I wanted fun. Tonight I wanted some drunk girl, any drunk girl to take home with me.

Instead of going ahead with that ingenious plan, I'd chosen a girl that had probably been sipping on the same drink the whole time. A girl who had been smugly rejecting guy after guy without a second thought. And now the only drunk girl I was attracting was the one drunk girl I'd been trying to avoid the whole night, because I knew how Jess gets when she starts drinking: Horny. Randy. And mostly importantly, tactless. All which is what I was looking for, but not from my best friend's fiancee. Especially with him in the same building.

Ignoring the fact that I was openly ignoring her, Jess said, "If you wanted to hide out, you could have picked a better place to do it than a funky ass bathroom."

"It doesn't smell that bad."

"Ah, so you can speak." She laughed. "Why don't you come outta the stall now?"

I did want out of the stall, but if only to get her out of the male's restroom before someone noticed her in here, especially if that person wound up being Trace. Jessica and I had, had a bad track record of not thinking clearly once the two of us were alone in the confines of a public restroom. Reluctantly, opening the door of the stall, I said, "Why are you in here anyways?"

She just smiled and shrugged. I knew what that meant. I sighed.

"Don’t sigh at me. It's your fault anyways."

"How is it my fault that you want me to bone you in this 'funky ass bathroom'?"

"Did I say that?"

"You didn't have to."

She studied me for a moment in silence, then nodded. She turned her back on me as if she'd decided to do the right thing and leave. Before we started hooking up, she was always very good at doing the right thing. But once a good girl turns bad, she's bad forever. Or so they say. I'm still hoping she proves 'em wrong.

All your fears and doubts are
Hovering above you like a cloud

Instead of leaving, she turned back on her heel. Chewing on the inside of her mouth, she said, "Why were you talking to that girl?"

When I just rolled my eyes, her soft features hardened, instantly. "You like her? You think she's hott? You wish she was here right now instead of me?"

And the water's rising

"Don't do this. I hate when you do this." I started, trying to keep my voice calm, hoping it would calm her down. "We're not together, if I want to hook up with some other girl I can and will do that."

Now I can't breathe, nothing's how it's supposed to be

"That's why you were hiding out in the restroom, huh?" She smiled, smugly. "You're so full of shit."

"Which would make the restroom the perfect place for me." I sighed, shaking my head. I wanted to be mad at her. But how can I be? I made her like this. I pursued her and as long as she was still pushing me away, it was fine. Cause yeah, what I was doing was fucked up, but we weren't fucking. But once she gave in, that's when the guilt trips started. That's when the jealousy kicked in. That's when the blood finally stopped rushing to the wrong head long enough for me to look around and see the person I'd turned this former goody-two shoes into. I'd just been joking at the beginning of this, when I'd said one day that we should stop this cause chances were I was going to corrupt her.

All of this would've been easier if she wasn't like every other woman, who couldn't open her legs without opening her heart. And while I had done the same, since I did have genuine feelings for her now, I knew I couldn't have her the way I wanted to, so in knowing that I never would let her have me the way she wanted to.

For the most part she seemed to know and understand that sometimes I had to be cold to her to keep the shit from hitting the fan; it was just every now and then that she started to want to have her cake and eat it too. Glancing into her eyes for a moment, I nodded over towards the doors. "You should get out of here before someone sees you in here."

"You don't care if someone sees, you rather like an audience, don't you?" She smirked at first, licking her lips, before she finally must have caught the look in my eyes, then her mouth drooped. "You're worried about him."

"Aren't you?"

"Most of the time." She nodded.

"Now's not that time though?"

How did you do this to me

She shrugged at this, bit down rather hard on her bottom lip, kicked at nothing and then finally turned to leave again. And in that moment of watching her walk away, I was so tempted to tell her to stay. To grab her and hold her and let her feel just how much I wanted her to stay. I was never very good at doing the right thing, but before this fucked-up situation, once upon a time this kind of betrayal always been one thing I could've said I'd never do.

Locked inside your heart shaped box

"I'm gonna go." she announced, even though she's already started to go.

"Good."

At the door, she hesitated. Then turned around and stalked back toward me, like she was pissed and I was the reason for it. Her hand raised and I did nothing to stop it, only braced myself for the blow. But all she did was stroke my face, slowly, gently, like she was afraid that I might break. All she did was kiss me, slowly, gently, like she was afraid that together we might break.

Taking steps away from me, she looked me in the eye, stared, glared, studied me. A sad smile curling the edges of her lips. Licking those soft, sweet lips that could say and do some of the most wondrously nasty things, she said, "I hate that I love the unfriendly way you make me feel. I hate that even though I was in Trace's arms, when I saw you talking to that other girl..." she trailed off with a laugh. Taking another step back, she said with a smirk, "But then you got rejected."

I can't be with anyone since I felt our worlds collide
It's like I almost died

"And I bet you were loving that." I said, brushing past her and to the doors.

Never that far behind, she said, "Where are you going? To dust yourself off and try again?" When I said nothing, she was quick to bitingly add, "She rejected you for a reason."

The way you make me feel
I'm changing, got me breaking down inside

I hadn't planned on going back over to that girl--just like I hadn't planned on being in this restroom this long--but now she was clowning me so I had to prove her wrong. Turning back to her, I said, "What, that? That was nothing. She's probably just testing me."

"Why can't you men just take no for an answer?"

"Why can't you women just not play these stupid games when you really want it?"

Baby can't you see, you ruined me
for life

We were standing close now. Maybe, probably a little too close. There was that heat that leads to one of those 'next thing I knew' or 'one thing led to another' kind of stories, which neither of us needed to be writing right now. Or ever again.

I don't wanna be in love
I don't wanna feel this way

Without another word, I turned my back on her again and walked out of the men's room. The bass of the music greeting me within the first few steps.

All I wanna do is leave

Yelling over the music, she said, "Where are you going?"

"To pass that test."

But all I can do is stay

"Don't you think we should talk about it?" she said, trying to tug me back the way we'd came.

Nights and days go by

"Talk about what?" I said, unmoving. "There's nothing to talk about."

and I can't wait to touch your face again

"Talk about what?" she yelled, though that yell wasn't just to be heard over the music. She let a few beats go by in silence, before she wrapped her hand around my wrist and proved to me that she was a lot stronger than I thought she was, as she dragged me back towards the bathroom. Stepping in enough to be able to hear without screaming at one another, she said, "I know you feel guilty and that's why you act the way you do towards me sometimes, but I feel guilty too. But avoiding eye contact for fear that we might do something ridiculous like talk about what's been happening between us, or constantly separating yourself from us isn't going to solve anything and will only help Trace to figure it out all the sooner."

"So this is all my fault, in other words? Maybe you need to pay a little more attention to Trace and a lot less attention to what I am and am not doing, because it's you, not me that's got him worried right now."

Frowning, she said, "What are you talking about?"

"We had a little chat about you today. He thinks you're getting cold feet and thinks I know why."

She paced silently for awhile, before cursing under her breath. "You think he knows? And like is just waiting around for the next time we slip up to bust us on it?"

"I dunno." I sighed. "But maybe he should."

I could be the first to let you know, whoa
That I can't be with anyone since I felt our worlds collide

"What?" she said, glaring at me now.

"Maybe he should...just figure it out."

It's like I almost died

She laughed hollowly. "Justin, are you high? How much did you drink? I thought I was the drunk one."

"He's going to figure it out, you even said so."

The way you make me feel

"If you keep up this mopey crap then, yeah, maybe he'll start to figure it out."

"Maybe we should just tell him. Just get it all out there, ya know? No more secrets."

Moments went by in tense silence, before she started to nod slowly. "You're right."

I frowned. "What?"

"You're absolutely right."

"So you want to tell him?"

"Sure, but before I shoot my chance at happiness in the foot, which show do you think would be better to go on and do this: Jerry Springer or Maury?"

I sighed, rolling my eyes, half in relief, half in disappointment. Maybe it would've spare us all a lot of pain in the long run if we had just told him ourselves.

"Yeah, you're right. Jerry Springer is clearly the better choice, no competition." she said, "Look, the men's room probably isn't the place to really talk about this anyways, but we are going to have to talk about this. Rationally."

I'm changing,
got me breaking down inside

With that, she left. I lingered in there for a moment longer, staring at my reflection.

You ruined me

When I did walk out, she was nowhere to be found, but then that's probably not a completely true statement, given the fact that I was not really taking the time to look for her. Or Trace.

Instead, I wandered over to the bar and ordered a drink.

"I see, you're back."

Frowning in confusion, I turned towards the voice, with a drink in hand. "What?" I said, staring at the woman beside me for a moment. She was gorgeous, but not in a maybe it's maybelline way. Everything about her seemed inviting from her warm eyes to her soft looking full lips to just the way she held her glass. Her eyes were exuding confidence, but there was still a faint hint of sadness. As I watched her lick her lips, it finally clicked. She was the man-eater, the girl who'd spent half the night rejecting most of the guys in here, myself included. For awhile there she had totally slipped my mind.

I said,"Yeah, I guess I am."

She smirked, just watching me for a moment. "No lines?"

"Considering how the last one worked out, no." I laughed, drinking my drink as she sipped hers.

I probably would've just stayed up in my own head, if it wasn't for the loud coughing the girl next to the man-eater started doing, effectively drawing my attention to her. She was cute, in the sidekick kind of way. And being the good sidekick that she was, she was quick to make up some excuse to leave the two of us there alone.

Chuckling softly to myself, I said, "Is that my cue to make my move?"

"My friend seems to have it in her mind for some reason that you're really into me."

I raised an eyebrow at that. She seemed like the type of girl to be into herself so much that she would've already naturally assumed that herself. "You don't think so?"

"Considering how you came back for a drink instead of me," she smiled, sipping on her drink. "I'd say no."

I smiled too, turning more towards her, so now we weren't shoulder to shoulder, but still not quite face to face. "Maybe I was getting the drink for courage."

"You don't seem like the type who needs liquid courage." She said, carefully eyeing me again. "You did it just fine on your own the first time."

I laughed, finishing off my drink. "Just fine got me a polite rejection."

Still smiling, she shrugged. "It's the nicest thing I've said all night."

"I'm not sure how I should take that. Either that's a compliment for me, or a warning about yourself."

She shrugged again, finishing off her drink. "I guess it's both."

Without another word, she started to walk away. I frowned, letting her get a step or two away, before I found myself getting up to follow her.

"Where are you going?"

"To tell my friend that she was right."

I smiled, slowly. This girl was probably too smooth for me, but I guess I'm just a fool like every other man, who loves a challenge. "Oh, really?"

"Course I'd look pretty foolish telling her that if we didn't dance at least once and I walk away and you walk towards another woman."

"So you wanna dance?" I said, taking steps to close the gap between us.

"No."

I frowned, confused as hell now. "No?"

Laughing, she smiled and said, "You just look so cute when you're confused, so I had to do it one more time."

* | *
When he started off with the cabbage patch and the running man, I just laughed and went along with it by doing the butterfly and the tootsie roll, but then he started doing the lawnmower, I started rethinking this whole going with the flow idea. It wasn't long before he started doing the humpty dance, while yelling "Do the humpty hump, do the humpty hump!" And that's when I was ready to chalk this night up to a complete waste of time and started to just walk off, only for him to start cracking up laughing, pulling me back to him, as he started to dance for real.

Even though his previous clowning had been kind of embarrassing before, knowing that he wasn't really serious with that, loosened me up. And the next thing I knew I was spending the next thirty minutes or so trying to get the Kid 'n' Play dance right. We never did get it quite right, but then the DJ called out, saying "this is for all the lovers out there. It's a slow jam y'all, so grab the one you love or the one you're going to love tonight." And it wasn't long before he and I were getting really close.

And lord, did this white boy have rhythm. You definitely can't say that for everyone, but he had rhythm. An easy groove to be pulled into. And when he was dancing with you, he danced with you and only you. The room might as well have been completely empty save us two, that's how much attention he gave you. He had a way of letting you know he wanted you without making you feel like his feelings would probably change the next morning. But I'd met guys like him, been played by guys like him, had played guys like him, so I knew what he was doing even if he wasn't entirely doing it on purpose this time. Maybe this was just a dance. Maybe the vertical sex was all in my raunchy little head. But every time his hips grinded into mine and every time his eyes locked with mine, I swear to God that man had me a blink away from ripping his clothes off right then and there.

It was only so much of the simulated vertical sex that I could take before I needed the real thing.

"I'm about to head out, y'all." I said, once he'd suggested going to back to his place. Smiling at my girls, I added a hasty, "Don't wait up!"

"Hold up, Slut-fleupagus," Fallon said, pulling me back before I could trot off. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To get me some." I said, smiling brightly.

"Girl, from who?" Farrah asked, curiously.

"That guy she's been grinding up on the last however many minutes. I don't know why you have to go somewhere to get you some, looked like you already got a lot on the floor." Tasha said, shaking her head at me with a playful roll of the eyes. Tasha was the only one in our crew that was staunchly against the one-night stand, but she knew, no matter how many times she lectured one of us, if the itch was strong enough (or even just slightly there in Farrah's case) then we were going to scratch it. And I planned on doing a lot of scratching tonight.

"I could ask him if he has a friend for you."

Sticking her tongue out at me, she smiled and said, "I don't need your hand-outs."

"Oh, but I do!" Farrah said, raising her hand.

We all just laughed at that, shaking our heads at her. I thought I was a pretty horny person, but Farrah beat me most of the time by leaps and bounds.

"I know none of my girls need hand-outs and I also know that I just took the only worthwhile guy up in this place. So y'all ain't gotta go back to the hotel, but y'all gotta get the hell up outta here." I said, smiling at them, while making moves to leave. "Hasta luego, chicas!"

* | *

When I had left the Twilight Zone with Mr. Sex On Legs, I had every intention of screwing us both unconscious. So when I woke up the next day in a bed not my own, I wasn't surprised. I was a little disappointed he wasn't still in the bed though, but then again, I did prefer to fumble with my clothing in private anyways. Only problem was as I was yawning and stretching in an attempt to wake myself up more, I realized I was already fully dressed.

I just stared at my still on clothes for a moment with a growing frown. I quickly rewound what I could remember of the night in my head. Was I fully liquored up? Enough so. Was I too horny to care that I basically knew nothing about this man and just wanted to see if his moves on the dance floor translated just as well into the bedroom? Yep, yep. So how did all that wind up equaling out to a morning after with no search for my panties?

As I was running my fingers through my hair, trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong, he came in.

“Hey…� He laughed nervously, setting down some food. “You know, I still don’t know your name.�

“Tasha.� I said the first name that popped into my head without hesitation, surprising even myself at how accustomed I was to lying at moments like this. Running my fingers through my hair one last time, I glanced into a nearby mirror before rising to my feet, straightening out my dress as I did so. It looked a lot shorter today than it had last night. “Well, I better be going…� I said, tugging at my dress, already moving toward the door as I grabbed my purse along the way.

“Justin.�

“What?� The fact that he’d said anything more than bye throwing me off.

“My name’s Justin.�

“Oh…well in that case…� I smiled. “Well, I better be going…Justin.�

He chuckled. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…�

“See now, once you start with something like ‘don’t take this the wrong way,’ you’ve already set the person up to take it the wrong way.� I interrupted with a playful grin. “But continue…with caution.�

He smirked. “I don’t do this...this kind of...thing...a lot. One-night stands aren’t really my thing.�

Interrupting him again, I said, “Well don’t worry, I have. Having said that slutty confession and since this isn’t technically a one-night stand considering as far as I can remember we didn’t have sex – unless you want to fill me in on something. So no sex, no one-night stand, means you really don’t have to worry. I’m just going to get my stuff and leave quietly and since I already have my stuff.� I said holding up my purse as proof. “I’ll just be getting to the leaving quietly part.�

I'd turned to leave, when he said, “You hungry?�

“Am I hungry?�

“Yeah, you do eat right? You’re not one of those girls…�

Rolling my eyes, I said, “No, I’m not one of ‘those’ girls, as you so nicely put it. And why does it matter anyways?�

“Cause while you were sleeping, I went to go get us breakfast. And since I planned on two people eating, there’s way too much for me to eat alone. So unless you have somewhere you really need to be right now, would you mind having breakfast with me?�

“I dunno…�

“I got muffins, pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausage, biscuits, and all kinds of juice cause I wasn’t sure what you’d like.�

“Does gravy come with those biscuits?�

He chuckled again. It was a good laugh, the kind that's hard not to smile at the sound of. “A girl of my own heart.� he said, pulling out the container of gravy.

“Hmmm, well that’s very tempting…�

“I could beg, but it wouldn't be pretty.� He smiled.

Somehow I doubt that, I thought, laughing, I said, “Well if you insist. Just let me call my friends right quick so they’ll know where I am.�

Slipping into the bathroom, I quickly pulled my cell out of my purse. Dialing without thinking, I listened to it ring two times before Fallon picked up. She was probably waiting for this call, not because she was particularly fond of hearing the morning after details, but without ever saying as much--I mean she never straight out lectured me like Tasha did, but I knew she worried.

“Hey girl, where are you?�

“Justin’s hotel room.�

“Is that the guy you were with last night?�

“Sí.�

“You move fast girl, but you have good taste at least.�

“And you know this!� We laughed. "Anyways, I just called to let you know…�

“How mind blowing the sex was? I saw the moves that white boy was making on the dance floor last night, if that’s any indication of his bedroom moves…Ooo wee!�

Okay so let me rephrase that earlier statement. It wasn't that she wasn't particularly fond of hearing the morning after details, cause obviously she was more than willing to hear them, but what I meant was she also worries about me too.

Laughing, I said, "Nah, it wasn’t even like that. As far as I can remember, we were just talking and laughing and having a good ol’ time watching TV and then I guess, we both just fell asleep.�

“You just watched some TV with him? You had his fine ass all alone in that hotel room for all them hours and y’all didn’t do anything?"

“Hey, when I woke up this morning fully dressed, I was just as shocked as you.� I laughed, ending on a sigh. “But it was kinda nice though. Different.�

“Alright, so what are you still doing there?�

“About to eat breakfast, I guess.�

“He made you breakfast…without getting any? Damn, girl…if you don’t want him, give a sista the hookup.�

Laughing, I said, “Whoa, whoa, before you get too set on stealing him away from me, he didn’t make breakfast.�

“You made breakfast?!� she asked, not bothering to hide the shock from her voice. “Ooh whoops, what am I saying, if you’d made breakfast you’d be calling from outside the hotel while you watched it burn to the ground.�

“Girl, hush. You know I can throw down in the kitchen…when I feel like it.�

“Well then, you must not feel like it very often.�

“Whateva. The point is, he went out to get us something to eat while I was sleeping.�

“And what’s wrong with that?�

“Nothing…�

“Then why do I feel like you wanna follow that up with a ‘but’?�

“Nah, nah it’s cool…or whateva. It’s just…different you know what I mean?�

“But a good different though, he’s letting you know that you don’t have to spread your legs to get some spread on yo’ bread.�

I smiled and nodded. “True.�

“But…� she said, just prodding me to continue.

“But…I dunno, it’s weird too.�

“A man doing right by you is weird?�

“He doesn’t have to do anything though. I don’t even know why he is.�

“He likes you, girl. This isn’t rocket science.�

“Then why didn’t he try to sleep with me?�

“I dunno, maybe he doesn’t do the one-night stand thing.�

I frowned thinking back on all the promise those moves he'd done on the dance floor had made. Those had screamed being all for a one-night stand. “Yeah, he did say something about that this morning.�

“Well then…that’s your answer.� Fallon said, conclusively. “You better get off this phone, before he thinks you’ve fallen in or something.�

“How’d you know I’m in the bathroom?�

“Cause that’s the typical Georgia move.� She laughed. “Oh and if for some reason he hasn’t asked already, tell that boy what your real name is.�

Blushing, I said, “Too late.�

“Girl, I dunno what I’m going to do with you.� She sighed and I could just imagine her with her hands on her narrow hips, shaking her head at me. “Bye Georgia.�

And before I could say bye back, she's already hung up on me. I hated when she did that. And she did every time. One of these days I'm going to get my goodbye in before she leaves me with the dial tone.

* | *

Oh, I can't be with anyone since I felt our worlds collide
It's like I almost died

In the last forty-five minutes or so that we'd been sitting here chit-chatting like this was a first or second date or something and not the morning after a sexless night between strangers, I couldn't help but be suspicious of his strictly gentlemanly like aura. Not that he'd been really aggressive last night, though, because if he had been I would've never been here today. But even though he hadn't been, he'd still seemed like perfect hit it and quit material and now that he had turned out not to be, all I could do was look at him and wonder why.

Breaking into a small lull in the conversation, I said, "Why do you keep wiping your mouth every time I look at you?"

"Because every time you look at me it makes me feel like I must have something on my face."

The way you make me feel

"If I'm staring, I'm sorry. I was just thinking."

"About what?"

I've been changing, got me breaking down inside

I didn't answer, just stared at him.

He wiped his mouth again.

Baby can't you see, you ruined me

I smiled, but gave him a break by looking away.

"Whatever you're thinking about, seems serious."

"It's not that serious." I said, staring again. And when he went to wipe his mouth again, I said, "Why didn't you sleep with me?"

I don't wanna be in love

Choking on his food for a second, he coughed a few times and avoided eye contact. "That's what you've been thinking all this time?"

"Yeah."

"Well..." he started, licking his lips and finally making eye contact again. Though not for long. "Honestly, I don't know. You're beautiful, I was definitely feeling you. It was the right place..."

I don't wanna feel this way

"Wrong time?"

He didn't answer, just stared me. I wiped my mouth. We smiled.

Then he said, "I don't think there's ever a wrong time for a good thing to come into your life."

We fell into another lull, but this time I broke it with silence. Eventually, he laughed too, before admitting, "That was corny. Sorry."

"It was cutesy-corny though. A for effort." I said, getting up and throwing my paper plate in the trash.

All I wanna do is leave

"You're leaving?"

"Why?" I said, looking back at him with a smile. "We 'bout to have some hot, freaky sex?"

He just smiled.

You ruined me for life

"You're beautiful, I was definitely feeling you. It was the right place. Too bad some other girl came and screwed it up for me before I ever got a chance to screw it up for myself." I sighed, at the door now. I glanced back at him, biting my bottom lip. "And I would've screwed it up so well, too."
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This chapter featured: JC Chasez - You Ruined Me