by Whitney G.
I looked over at Carter again and realized he was looking at me, too.
“Do you need me to stay and help with anything else?” I asked.
“I need you to go get some sleep.” He looked concerned. “Everything’s not going to get done tonight. You can come back tomorrow and help.”
“I’m not tired,” I said honestly.
“In that case …” Josh walked back inside at that very moment and pointed to a massive stack of boxes in the corner. “Could you organize all of the alcohol in those boxes by brand and type, please? And then when you get done, could you organize the rest?” He pointed to another stack that was hiding behind the doorframe.”
“On second thought, I could use a break.”
“Don’t break too long, then. The guys and I will be putting together a few of the torches outside, if you need us, and while we work, I’ll think about inviting you to our party.”
I waved him away and walked over to the couch, collapsing on the rug instead of sitting next to Carter.
“Too tired to even make it to the couch?” He smirked. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home?”
That actually might be a great idea right now.
“Come here.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer, positioning me between his legs. Then he began to gently massage my shoulders.
I shut my eyes and leaned back a bit, relishing the feel of his hands on my skin—trying hard not to focus on the fact that my nerves were currently on edge.
“How are things with you and Chris?” he asked.
“Things are pretty good, actually. We went out for a run yesterday morning. He’s a pretty decent kisser.”
“So, does that mean there’s a high chance that the two of you will have pretty decent sex?”
“I think we’ll have amazing sex.” I swallowed as he pressed his palm against the back of my neck. “I also think it will be so amazing, that it will make you jealous when I tell you all about it.”
“Please don’t.” He let out a low laugh. “You should definitely invite him to the party.”
“I did.”
“Do I need to loan you my room to make sure you get the job done?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because although he appreciated the invite, he can’t come. He works the night shift that day. How are things with you and Tina?”
“Nothing is happening,” he said, kneading my shoulders one last time. “I still need to call her back.”
“Any reason why you’re dragging your feet?” I looked up at him.
“I haven’t figured that out yet.”
Silence.
Neither of us said anything for a few minutes, we just stared at one another. He leaned down, moving a strand of hair away from my face and I felt my heart speed up, felt it thump and rock against my chest in a way it never had before.
“EPIC with a capital E!” Josh shouted, making us break away. “We now have the slogan for the party.”
“Congratulations,” Carter said, still looking at me.
“I knew you’d like it.” Josh smiled. “Also, I need a quick reaffirmation from both of you for my friend Martin here.” He pointed to the six-foot guy who was standing next to him.
We exchanged confused glances.
“Please tell him that sex is the number one cause of ruin for all male to female friendships.” Josh crossed his arms. “Before you answer, let me state the facts: One, if you sleep with the person who knows you best, you’re creating a potential enemy. Two, once you have sex—the shit is never the same. Three, if you don’t end up together, then you can’t be friends. Ever. Do I sound like I’m making perfect sense or no?”
“It sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience.” I stood up and nodded at his friend. “But you do make a lot of sense.”
“Perfect sense.” Carter was suddenly at my side, extending his hand to Martin. “You should never sleep with your best friend. He’s right. It’ll never work out for the long term.”
“But what if we both agree not to let it?”
“Nah.” Me, Carter, and Josh uttered the same thing in unison and laughed.
“Now that we’ve cleared that up,” Josh said, smiling, “I don’t mind you being around late tonight, Carter, but we’re about to discuss some serious Epsilon Chi business, so could you kindly take your other half home? Her driving services were greatly appreciated today.”
I rolled my eyes and tossed him a corkscrew. “I’ll come back and organize the alcohol tomorrow. Although, I think I’ll have to do them by color and not by brand, since it looks like you stupidly tore off all of the labels.”
“Not stupidly. Deliberately, my friend. They’re for our new spin on the wet T-shirt contest.”
“You disgust me.”
“And you arouse me.” He playfully licked his lips.
“Enough, you two.” Carter grabbed his car keys. “I’ll be back. Please try not to burn down my house while I’m gone.”
“Our house.” He practically shooed us out the door. “And I’ll do my best.”
On the way home, Carter and I acted as if that moment near the couch never happened.
The night ended like it usually did in the summer after classes: Him pulling up to my house, waiting on me to go inside before pulling off, and then a late text a few hours later: “You feel like talking or getting a late dinner with me?”
Ninth Grade
Carter
Dear Arizona,
You owe me twenty dollars.
Sincerely,
Carter
Dear Carter,
Could you at least TRY to look like you’re paying attention in class? And why are you passing me a note, when we both have cell phones?
Annoyed,
Arizona
Dear Arizona,
I didn’t see the twenty dollars you owe me in your last note. Please respond with the appropriate funds. Thanks.
Sincerely,
Carter
Dear Carter,
The only way I could possibly owe you twenty dollars is if you had sex/lost your virginity this weekend. And since we both know you didn’t, you can stop pretending like you did. You can, however, send me twenty dollars for putting up with this note writing bullshit.
Grow up and use your cell phone,
Arizona
Dear Arizona,
Like I said … You owe me twenty dollars :-)
Sincerely,
Carter
She gasped as she read my final note, looking over her shoulder and shaking her head. She sent me a text right before the bell rang:
I’ll see you after my Home-Economics class? Your place?
I texted back.
Yours. My mom is having her therapist over later. If you guys bake brownies again, bring me one.
Done deal.
I floated through the rest of my day at school, not paying any attention to anything that was happening around me. I even spent an extra hour at test-prep tutoring—something I never did, unless I was bored out of my mind.
I walked the long way to Ari’s house—stopping every minute to look around at nothing in particular, but when I arrived, she wasn’t there.
“Hey, there, Carter!” Her older sister, Ariana, ushered me inside. “You want something to drink?”
“Water, please.”
“Coming right up,” she said, quickly pressing a cold bottle into my hand. “You can go wait for Ari upstairs in her room, if you want. She should be home in a few minutes.”
“No, thanks.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “I’ll wait here until she gets back. Thanks to you, your mom thought we were up there having sex last time I was here. Or do you not recall lying to her about that?”
“It was a joke.” She laughed. “I honestly think we’ve all accepted that you two are just friends. Weird, strange, and way too damn close friends, but just friends.”
“Not trusting it.” I plopped onto the couch. “I’ve been scarred for li
fe. Sorry.”
She smiled and crossed her arms. “You know, I was just telling one of my friends about you two. I was telling her that although I think it’s nearly impossible to be strictly friends with a guy, that I think you and Arizona are the rare boy and girl friends that will always remain strictly platonic.”
“Thank you for your random thoughts,” I said. “I was hoping that you would throw some my way today.”
“Well, smartass, between you and me, have you ever had any non-friendly thoughts about Arizona? Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe one day, she’ll be your girlfriend? Or maybe—”
“You know what? I’m going to take you up on that room-pass now.” I immediately stood up and walked up the stairs, ignoring her cackling laughter. I shut the door and sat by the window, resorting back to far more entertaining thoughts of sex.
It was ten times better than I thought it would be, and I couldn’t wait to tell someone else about it. I wasn’t sure how I was going to focus on anything else at school this week because I was going to need to have sex in my life a lot more often to cling to this current feeling.
“Can you stop smiling like that?” Arizona threw a pillow at my face. “You’re giving it all away.”
“So, you believe me now?”
“After seeing you sit there with that dumbass grin on your face for over five minutes?” She plopped onto her bed. “Yeah. I have no choice.”
“Sorry, I can’t help it.” I walked over and plopped down right next to her. “It was so great.”
“Who was it? Erica? Adriane?”
“Amber,” I said. “We did it at her place Sunday afternoon while her parents were at a BBQ.”
“How classy.”
“We did it more than once, too.”
“You’re lying! There’s no way!”
“Oh, young and unworldly, Ari. When thou hast experienced the wonder of the body, thou shall be able to effortlessly relate to the need and insatiability of bodily desires.”
“So, you do pay attention in Literature class?” She laughed and placed a wrapped brownie onto my chest. “I knew she was a pedophile.”
“She’s only three years older than us.”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “Who else knows?”
“No one.” I hadn’t told any of my guy friends yet—Josh was still serving out a suspension for skipping school last week, so Ari was my first call.
“What did it feel like?” she asked.
“Apple pie.”
“I’m being serious.” She rolled over on her side. “What did it feel like?”
“Good.” I swallowed. “Really, really good. But—”
“But what?”
“You know how in all those dumbass chick-flicks you make me watch, when the actors have sex and they look into each other’s eyes and act like their world has just changed forever?”
“Yeah?”
“It wasn’t like that at all.”
“Really?”
“Really.” I shrugged. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s like the best feeling ever in life—especially when I first thrust inside of her and felt how tight her—”
“Ugh. Please spare me the grisly details.”
“Okay, okay.” I laughed and turned on my side to face her. “It’s really, really amazing, Ari. But if it’s supposed to be anything like the movies, then I must be missing something.”
“Or maybe you did it wrong?”
“No.” I laughed harder. “I definitely didn’t do it wrong.”
“What about in the pornos then? Was it anything like that?”
“You watch porn? Since when?”
“Since a while ago.” She pulled out her phone. “PornMD.com.”
“No, no, no.” I took her phone and shook my head. “You have to use pornhub.com. It links to all the best sites, and its way better organized.” I typed up the website. “What category do you normally watch? Amateur?”
“Hardcore, actually.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I’m not.” She looked genuine. “We watched a ton of them at Lisa Jane’s party last month. I watch them like twice a week now. I think I might be addicted.”
“A virgin addicted to porn?” I rolled my eyes. “I think I’ve heard it all now. You’re just going through a phase.”
She scooted close to me as I hit play on a video: “Double D Lila Gets Pounded by Huge Cock.”
“Of all the videos you could’ve picked.” She sighed.
“This was under the hardcore category, thank you very much.” I turned up the volume.
Onscreen, there was no attempt to even create a storyline. The blond model stripped out of her white T-shirt and spread her legs atop a desk as a guy wearing a “Vitamin D” shirt stroked his cock a few times.
“Can’t wait to pound that pussy, babe,” he said, winking at the camera. “You have such a beautiful and slick pussy.”
Ari and I laughed.
Vitamin D grabbed Lila’s hips and bent her over a chair, slapping her ass a few times before slipping his cock inside of her.
“Do you think her boobs are real?” Ari tilted her head to the side as Lila’s breasts bounced up and down, as Vitamin D pounded into her again and again.
“Nope. They’re silicone. See how the skin around the boob doesn’t move? How they keep their perfect too-good-to-be-true shape? It’s definitely silicone.”
“That is hands-down, the worst explanation I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s the truth. Next time you take a shower just jump up and down in the mirror and compare how your boobs—what little you have of them anyway, move compared to hers.”
“I’ll definitely let you know. What about her butt?”
“Arizona! Carter!” Her mom called up the steps and I exited the site, handing the phone back to Arizona. “Both of you come down here and help me put up the groceries! And yes, Carter, you’re required to help, since you eat your fair share of them every week!”
I rolled out of bed and pulled her up.
“Okay, wait. I have a confession,” Ari said, crossing her arms. “I’m insanely jealous that you had sex before me. There. I said it.”
“I’d be jealous, too.” I laughed. “But you want that whole Prince Charming-stars-in-your-eyes fantasy for your first time, remember?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Just keep watching porn until you find the right guy in real life, and you better tell me when it happens.”
“I will.” She opened the door. “Always.”
“But if it doesn’t happen, I can always give you a sympathy fuck. That’s what a true best friend would do.”
She slapped the back of my head and pushed me out of the room. “If we ever did sleep together, I would be the one giving you a sympathy fuck.”
Track 8. Both of Us (4:21)
Arizona
For the past few years, I’ve honestly tried my hardest to land a female best friend: Somebody I could get my nails done with, somebody I could talk to while obsessively discussing every detail of a date gone bad, and somebody I could point out a hot guy to and say, “Hey, I wonder how big his cock is,” with no judgment whatsoever.
Yet, every time I tried, one of three things happened: 1) The trial-BFF wanted to bring Carter everywhere with us, just to get close to him, not me. 2) She was only using me for something school-related. (I still felt violated by trial BFF Carla, who, apparently, only wanted to be my study partner because I brought home-baked snacks to every all-nighter: “No snacks, no friendship.”) 3) She turned out to be Nicole, the girl who was currently standing in front of my full-length mirror.
Dressed in a thin white dress that stopped mid-thigh and left little to the imagination, she was flat ironing her hair for the umpteenth time, making sure it was absolutely perfect for a house party.
We’d met in one of my business classes last year, and I thought it was such a good sign since we had the same boring major in common. Until she dropped out a
month later and told me, “I was only taking that class to get close to that football player. Did you know he’s going pro in the fall?”
Still, I clung to our fast-flame friendship—texting her small bits about my life, asking for hers in return. We did meet up to get our nails done every other weekend, and she never did judge me when I said, “I wonder how big his cock is,” because she wondered, too. But that’s where her potential BFF qualities ended.
Even though she was nice and gave pretty sound advice from time to time, she was always flaking on me at the very last minute, always meeting some new guy she “had to experience.” If we hung out for something other than nails or drinks, that usually just meant parties. No studying. No late-night obsessive chats about guys. (I mean, although I could tell Carter anything and everything, I still wanted someone who could better relate from a female point of view).
“Why am I still trying?” I muttered under my breath.
“What’s that, Arizona?” Nicole set down the flat iron.
“Nothing. We should probably leave soon, though. There isn’t much parking at their place.”
“Oh.” She looked over her shoulder. “You’re ready to go and you’re wearing that?”
I looked down at my pink tank top and khaki colored shorts. “Yeah. Why?”
“It’s a party, Ari.”
“A house party. There’s no need to dress up like it’s a real club.”
“I couldn’t disagree with you more,” she said, walking over to my closet. “You’ve got way too many good options in here to show up looking like a hillbilly.”
“Are you aware that your pink thong is showing through your dress right now? What little of a dress you have on, anyway?”
“Duh! That’s the point!” She laughed and pulled a short red dress from my closet. “This is perfect.”
“The last time I wore that, I was a freshman. I highly doubt that I could fit that tonight.”
“Let’s hope you can’t!” She tossed it to me. “The tighter the better.”
Holding back my words, I shut myself in the bathroom and took off my original outfit. I pulled the four-year old dress over my head and smiled when it actually fit. (Well, if I sucked in my stomach a little.)
