“What was that for?” William asked.
Shrugging, I said, “Just felt like it! You complaining?” I could tell by his goofy grin that he liked it.
“Not at all,” he said, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around. “You're a piece of work!”
Pounding his back with my fists, I said, “Put me down! Don't know if my stomach can handle this on three beers.”
William put me down. “You win.”
“Remember, I don't want to be your girlfriend!”
“I don't want to be your boyfriend anyway.”
I giggled, “OK!”
Bethany came over and handed me a white paper Dixie cup. “Green Jell-O shots!”
I raised the shot in the air. “To missing the LSAT!” I squeezed the alcohol gelatin from the cup and swallowed it in one piece. “Lunch is served!”
“You missed the LSAT? What's that about?” Bethany asked. She detached herself from the grip of a short, stocky guy with a thick head of black hair, a five o'clock shadow, and a tiny leprechaun painted on his right cheek. I had no idea where he came from and wondered if she knew him from college. “Come with me to the bathroom,” she said, grabbing me by the elbow.
“‘K!” I held out my glass while William refilled my beer from a pitcher. Before walking away, I looked at him and said, “Don't go anywhere! Not that I'd care if you did.”
He shook his head at me, and raised his hand in a salute. “Aye, Aye Captain!”
I grabbed the back of Bethany's sweater and followed her to the bathroom line. “Who's that guy hanging on you?”
Turning halfway around while walking, she said, “My boyfriend, Phil. What's that about you missing the LSAT?”
Waving her away, I said, “Never mind about the LSAT. Not important right now! I had no idea you had a boyfriend! Everyone has a boyfriend but me. Not that I want one!”
A girl ahead of us in line turned around. “Me neither. Men suck! But I wouldn't mind sucking face with someone today.”
“Me neither. I'm gonna suck face with William when I get back!” I said.
“Who's William?” the girl asked.
“A tall, obnoxious guy with a beauty mark.” I shrugged. “He's grown on me.”
Bethany laughed. “Beer will do that to you.”
“Is he ugly?” Please don't say yes.
“No. He's not bad at all. But you had no interest earlier.”
“That was then. This is now. And I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I just want to kiss him.”
CHAPTER 36
I woke up and turned over. Not expecting to see a man's bare back in my bed, I sat up and confirmed that I was naked. I pulled the sheets over my body and muttered, “Holy shit.” I reached down, grabbed a T-shirt that was conveniently at the foot of my bed, and pulled it over my head. Careful not to wake up William, I quietly stepped onto my floor and caught sight of the digital camera sitting on my desk. I vaguely remembered posing for pictures.
I sat at my desk chair, stretched the bottom of my T-shirt over my legs and looked back at the pictures. Bethany and me with our mouths open showing green Jell-O on our tongues. Gross. Bethany leaning over her short boyfriend and kissing the top of his head. What was his name again? Bethany licking the leprechaun on her boyfriend's cheek. Me proudly holding up my ticket. My ticket. Fuck. William holding up my ticket. Me holding up the ticket with the group behind me. William kissing me.
“Morning, Hello Kitty.”
I swiveled my chair so I was facing William, who was now sitting up in my bed.
“Morning. What's with you calling me all those names?”
William stretched his long arms over his head. “Terms of endearment, Peaches and Herb.”
“You're strange!”
“So are you,” he said, smiling.
I tossed my camera on the bed. “Check these out. We were way drunk yesterday.”
“Yes you were. I doubt I'd be here if you weren't.”
“No way!” I quickly agreed. “I mean, no offense. I just don't usually bring strangers home with me.”
Now sitting on the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor, William chuckled. “Good! I like to think I'm special.”
I had to smile. “Special you are. But don't worry, I won't stalk you and I don't expect to be your girlfriend just because we had sex.”
“I couldn't handle you as a girlfriend!”
Apparently neither can anyone else I've met since breaking up with Bob.
“I don't usually do away games, even if it means I have to sneak out of a chick's apartment at four a.m. But you're a sweetie. And kind of fun after a beer. Anytime you want to hang out, let me know.” Before I could respond, he said, “With or without the sex. I mean it. I like you, Little Red Hen.”
I noted it was the best one-night stand of my life, a close race with the only other one I'd ever had. “Thanks. You're not so bad yourself,” I said, adding a silent Beauty Mark Guy to the end of the sentence. Not quite as creative as him since one nickname was all I could handle after a day of drinking.
William got out of bed and I turned away while he put his clothes back on. “I'll show myself out.” Kissing me on the top of the head, he said, “Be good.”
“I will.”
After he left, I jumped back in bed, closed my eyes, and fell asleep alone. Just me, the biggest slut on the Upper East Side.
When I woke up a few hours later, I thought back to six months ago, when the only guy I had slept with was Bob, my high school sweetheart and the guy to whom I remained faithful throughout college and for years later. In a mere six months, I had multiplied my “number” by five. So much for sex being an intimate act meant to be shared between two people who actually cared about each other. I didn't even know William's last name. Or ‘Buddy's’ first. What had become of sensible “Mary Jane” (my pledge name in college)? Who had replaced my white patent leather Mary Janes with fire-red “fuck-me” pumps?
My phone rang and I hopped out of bed. Claire. I tried to think fast, but the green Jell-O from the night before clogged my brain. I had no idea what to say and so, chewing on my finger nail, I stared at the phone until it went to voicemail. I knew she was calling about the LSAT. Should I tell the family I thought I did well? That would make my dad proud. Or should I tell them I froze so I'd have an excuse to take them again?
I heard footsteps in the hallway and after slipping on a pair of sweatpants and my fuzzy slippers, I went into the living room where Lainie was sitting on the couch.
She saw me and quickly removed her feet from the coffee table. “I know. It's gross. I'm sorry.”
I brushed her off with my hands. “No worries. Do what you want.” Then I joined her on the couch, put my own feet up on the coffee table and said, “Anything good on?”
Still staring at the television set, Lainie answered, “Bridezillas marathon on WE. Gotta support the hand that feeds me.” Turning to look at me, she said, “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“I feel like we're our own version of Freaky Friday.”
Looking at me with interest, Lainie said, “What's that supposed to mean?”
I somehow managed to make my cry sound like a laugh and said, “Just a few months ago, you loved to play the field and thought I was lame for wanting to be with one guy. Now you're exclusive with Antoine, riveted to a Bridezillas marathon, and I got a ticket for drinking beer on the street and brought a stranger home to my bed. Bizarro world!”
A huge grin on her face, Lainie said, “A stranger in your bed, huh? I guess Frances Jane came out to play. Do tell!”
“Yeah, Frances had a blast! Apparently I'm better at being Frances than I am at being Jane.”
Lainie muted the television set, removed her legs from the coffee table, and angled her body to face me. “Did you ever think maybe there was always a little bit of Frances in Jane just dying to come out?”
“Not really,” I said with certainty.
“C'mon, Jane. If you married Bob….�
�� Lainie stopped speaking and gazed at the wall for a second before continuing, “Or even whatshisname, Randall, after Bob, you don't think you'd ever wonder if you were missing out?”
“Easy for you to say,” I mumbled.
“Why's that?”
“Nothing. Never mind,” I said, looking down toward my slippers.
“No. I'd like to know why it's easy for me to say. According to the gospel of Jane Frank.”
“You have a boyfriend now!”
“Now, yes! But he's the only guy I've dated seriously since moving here. So, on second thought, you're right, it is easy for me to say!”
“What's easy for you to say?”
Lainie rolled her eyes. “That it makes sense to play the field. That way, when you meet someone you really like, you know the difference.”
“I've played the field! I dated Randall, Jim, and Cory.” And had sex with Buddy and William. “I've played the field hard!”
Lainie let out a chuckle. “Whatever you say, Jane.”
“Oh, and you're suddenly an expert on finding love just because you have a boyfriend? Thank you, oh wise one.” I leaned over and turned the volume back on the television.
Lainie removed the remote from the coffee table and muted the television again. “Why are you getting so angry at me? I'm just trying to help, Jane. I thought my experience in the dating world might give you a different perspective. I'm sorry I bothered.” She got up from the couch and started walking to the hallway before turning around and tossing the remote at me. “I won't make the same mistake again,” she said.
I shouted back at her, “Maybe I just don't want quite as much experience as you!” My pulse instantly increased its pace in acknowledgment of how bad that sounded.
Facing me once again, her eyes wide open, Lainie said, “Excuse me?”
“Maybe I don't want to sleep with a hundred toads before I find my prince!” I bit my lip and quickly giggled to signify I was joking.
Lainie shook her head. “Wow, Jane. Getting laid is supposed to make you a happier person. I think I preferred the Jane who was celibate for a year.” With that, she turned around again and walked quickly to her room.
I called out, “I was joking!” just as her door slammed.
I turned off the television and walked to the kitchen. After grabbing a couple of Oreos and pouring a glass of chocolate milk, I headed to my room, stopping outside of Lainie's on my way. I gently tapped her door with the knuckles of my right hand but thought I heard her on the phone and decided it could wait. After all, I was just teasing. Nothing worse than she'd done to me many times.
I spent the rest of the day in my room, watching a Top Chef marathon and screening phone calls, one from my mother and another from Claire. I thought about asking Marissa if she wanted to go out for sushi but remembered that sushi was never fresh on Sundays. Since I wasn't in the mood for Chinese, I decided to save money and make dinner at home.
At about 6:30, I heard Lainie go into the kitchen and quickly followed her, hoping to eat together, but when I got there she was sitting at the table with Antoine and they were eating directly out of containers of Chinese food. They were whispering but stopped when they saw me.
I was suddenly in the mood for Chinese food after all. Hoping for an invitation to join them, I said, “Don't mind me.” I bent down and grabbed a frying pan from the cabinet. When I stood up again, I raised the pan in the air and said, “Just gonna make some fried eggs. Nothing like breakfast for dinner!”
“Hi Jane,” Antoine said softly.
“Hi, there!”
Lainie stood up. “We're going to eat in my room. C'mon Antoine.” She grabbed two containers of food and the plastic bag containing spicy mustard, duck sauce, and fortune cookies and started walking through the archway that led from the kitchen out into the hall.
“Bye, Jane,” Antoine said. Then he gathered another container of food and the bottle of Diet Pepsi and followed Lainie back to her room.
I called Marissa to vent that Lainie couldn't bear to share a meal with me now that she could eat in bed with her boyfriend. When voicemail picked up, I left a message and ate dinner alone, bent over the newest issue of Cosmopolitan. I was surprised Lainie left it out there for me to read, figuring she and Antoine might want to try out the sex tips.
CHAPTER 37
The next day, I put on headphones and listened to my iPod at work to avoid overhearing Andrew's seemingly back-to-back telephone conversations with Farah. I realized I wasn't as into him as I was into the idea of him, but it pissed me off to no end that the office flirt had tossed aside his male-slut ways for a girlfriend. He was like the male version of Lainie – boasting about the pleasures of non-exclusivity and then opting for a committed relationship.
Ever since I was a little girl, all I ever wanted was to fall in love and get married. I wasn't so naïve as to believe that simply wanting something made it so, but Andrew and Lainie's simultaneous conversion from terminally single (and happy about it) to blissfully attached while I was boyfriend-less and without an LSAT exam under my belt, made me wonder if not wanting something was the key to making it happen.
When Lady Gaga's “Just Dance” came on, I bopped around in my chair, singing. I hadn't been dancing in a really long time, probably since Marissa begged me to go to Katherine's bachelorette party. Maybe Bethany would want to go dancing.
“Jane!”
Startled, I removed my headphones and looked at Andrew. “What?”
Pointing at my office phone, he said, “Your phone is ringing!”
“Oh.” I looked at my phone. Claire again. I still hadn't figured out what I was going to tell her about the LSAT and let voicemail pick up.
“Screening your calls?” Andrew asked.
“Not all of them. Just my family.”
Andrew raised his eyebrow at me.
“Don't ask!”
Later that night, I was watching television in the living room when my doorbell rang. I muted the TV, got off the couch, and walked toward the door, throwing the remote on the couch behind me. “Who is it?”
“Your sister.”
I opened the door to see Claire with a small baby bump, hands on her hips, her lips pursed. “Hey,” I said. “Unexpected surprise.”
“Well, if you aren't going to return any of my calls, you leave me with no choice. I thought you might be dead!”
I let out a laugh. “I'm clearly not dead. But thanks for your concern.”
“That's what sisters are for. You might want to return the favor,” she said, looking over my head into the apartment.
I realized we were still standing in my doorway. Making room for her to walk past me, I said, “Do you want to come in?”
Her back to me as she entered the apartment, she said, “Thanks for asking.”
I followed her to the living room where she sat on the couch and just looked at me. “What's going on?” I asked.
“Why don't you tell me?” she said, her expression giving away nothing.
“You're the one making the house call!” I sat down next to her on the couch.
“Mom said you didn't call her back either.”
Fidgeting with the magazines on the coffee table, I said, “I'm sorry. Just have a lot going on right now.”
“Join the club.” Looking hurt, she said, “Don't you even care about your nephew?”
“Of course I care about him.” I gently rubbed her belly in a circular motion. “But he's not even born yet.”
“I thought you were going to brainstorm names with me,” she said, brushing my hand away.
“It's only been a few days, Claire. And I have been thinking about it.”
“Really,” she said doubtfully.
“Yes, really!”
Sounding positive that she could call my bluff, she said, “Throw out a name then.”
Crap. Think fast. Boy's name. Boy's name. “William!” Et tu Brute!
Claire gave me a funny look. “William?”
&nbs
p; “Yes,” I said, nodding my head enthusiastically.
“You want me to name my son William Williamson?”
Fuck. “Why not? It's a family name.”
“It's a stupid name!”
“Then don't ask for my help!” I bent over the coffee table and started wiping the smudges with Fantastic.
“What's with you, little sister?”
I shrugged, reclining back against the sofa throw pillow. “Nothing. Just a lot going on. You wouldn't understand.”
“Try me.”
“I'm sick of being single.”
Claire laughed. “That's it? You seem to be living it up.”
I looked at her in surprise. “Is that a joke?”
“Nope.”
“Well I'm not ‘living it up,’ as you say.”
“Not even a little bit?”
I could tell Claire was trying really hard to keep a straight face because her lips were quivering slightly. “No! What are you talking about?”
Claire removed her pocketbook from the floor, placed it in her lap and put her hand inside. Handing me a clear plastic bag with a black lace thong inside, she said, “I think you left this at my apartment.”
“That's not…” I felt my face get hot. “Oh, my God.”
Claire held her hand up to my face. “I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt that you just stayed at my place one night when Pin Cushion was being particularly annoying. But your face just gave it away. You were a very bad girl, weren't you, little sister? Maybe I should start calling you ‘Pin Cushion.’”
“That's so not cool! I'm just having fun. Lainie knows how to have fun. Well, at least she used to. You don't understand!”
Claire smiled. “I understand completely. But don't leave your underwear on my living room floor and tell me you're not enjoying the single life. Thank God I didn't find them in my bed,” she said, mumbling the last part.
Even though she was my sister and had known me before I was potty trained, I was embarrassed. “I'm sorry, Claire. I don't know what I was thinking.”
A State of Jane Page 17
