The Hookup

by J. S. Cooper

  I tried calling her one last time and threw the phone to the couch when I heard her voicemail recording again. I grunted as I stood there. I could feel the anger emanating throughout my entire body. I sank down on the couch to think. What should I do now? My vibrating phone made me jump and I grabbed it quickly.

  “Where have you been?” I snapped as I answered without looking at the screen.

  “Sorry what?” Kylie’s soft voice sounded surprised. “Nate?”

  “Oh, Kylie, sorry, I thought you were someone else,” I said, feeling even more annoyed that Janie wasn’t the one on the other end of the phone.

  “I see,” she said and paused. “Am I calling you at a bad time?”

  “No, no, it’s fine.” I stifled a sigh. “What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to know if we were still on for tomorrow night?” Her voice sounded unsure. “I hadn’t heard from you.”

  “Yeah yeah. Sorry.” I looked down at my watch. It was almost midnight. Had Janie stayed the night with Dylan?

  “So, what’s the plan?” Kylie continued and I tried to picture her face. Kylie and I had only met recently and gone on a few dates. She was a cute girl, seemed like a lot of fun and was obviously up for a good time, but I just couldn’t seem to concentrate on her right now.

  “Can I let you know tomorrow?” I jumped up from the couch and headed to the kitchen to get my keys. “I have to head out now.”

  “Oh, okay.” She paused. “Are we still going to brunch with your friend this weekend?”

  “Maybe,” I snapped. “If I don’t kill her first?”

  “Sorry what?” Kylie sounded shocked.

  “Ha, I’m just joking.” I tried to sound lighter. “Janie has just disappeared for a bit and ...” My voice trailed off as I didn’t really know what to say next.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. How long has she been missing for? Have you called the police?” Kylie said and immediately I felt a bit guilty for having gotten her so anxious. “Do you think she’s been kidnapped or something?”

  “Oh, she’s not missing or anything. She’s just been ignoring my calls. I think she’s on a date.”

  “Oh, okay?” Kylie sounded confused. “Janie is your friend, right?” Her voice trailed off.

  “Yeah, she’s my best friend.”

  “Only your friend, right?”

  “Yes,” I snapped. “Look I have to go,” I said and hung up, not wanting to deal with Kylie right now. I headed to the door and hurried to my car. Janie was only my friend now, but at one point she had been more than that. At one point, I had broken her heart. I’d really screwed up in college and I’d really hurt her. Meeting her again four years ago and regaining her trust and friendship meant everything to me. I could still remember exactly how I’d felt back when she’d stopped talking to me and when we’d met up again. I could still remember every second of those days. I got into my car and sat there, not knowing if I should turn the ignition on and go. I felt so angry, worried, nervous, annoyed. I was confused as to why I was feeling so mad. I wasn’t used to this feeling. I wasn’t used to this anxiety. I didn’t like it. I gripped the wheel and my mind drifted off to the past and how different things had been seven years ago.

  SEVEN YEARS AGO

  The Night I’d Royally Screwed Up

  “Talissa, I really should get going.” I stared into her dark solemn eyes and gave her a small smile. “Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?”

  “Oh, Nate, I’m hungry.” She ran her hands down my arm and leaned into me. “Let’s go and get some pho.”

  “I can’t right now.” I shook my head. I was supposed to be hanging out with Janie and I was already running late.

  “But Nate.” Talissa pouted. “I’m hungry and I thought you said this afternoon was for me.”

  “It was for you, but this evening I have other plans.”

  “With another girl?” Her eyes narrowed and she gave me a thoughtful look. “Take me for some pho and then I’ll blow you like no girl has ever blown you before.”

  “Talissa.” I could feel myself relenting. Janie would understand if I skipped tonight. I could make it up to her later. Anyways, it was good if I wasn’t too available to her. I didn’t want her to start thinking we were in a relationship or anything like that.

  “Yes, Nate?” She leaned forward and kissed me hard on the lips.

  “Let’s go and get you some Vietnamese food.” I grinned at her, Janie was gone from my mind as Talissa reached under the table and started rubbing me. I remembered about two hours later and sent her a quick text canceling, only feeling a slight twinge of guilt for canceling on her at the last minute. If I’d known she’d never speak to me again after that night, I definitely would have rethought my actions.

  “Snap out of it, Nate,” I chided myself and hit my fist against the steering wheel as I felt myself going back down memory lane. Now was not the time for me to start having regrets about how I’d messed up in the past. I could still remember the feeling of sadness that had washed over me when I’d kept texting Janie and asked her to meet up and hangout. How she’d kept blowing me off and not agreeing to meet up until finally she just stopped responding. I could still remember the cold looks she’d given me, as if I didn’t exist, when she’d seen me on campus. I’d never had anyone look through me like that before. It had hurt me more than I’d have admitted to anyone. Even to Janie. Even now she didn’t really know how I’d felt back in those days and we were best friends. However, the past wasn’t something we’d delved into too deeply. When we’d first reconnected, I’d thought it was for the best, but now, now I wasn’t so sure. I sighed as I started the car and headed toward Janie’s house. I could think about talking to Janie about the past later. Right now, I was just mad that she’d been ignoring my calls and obviously making poor life decisions. I only hoped she hadn’t made any decisions that both she and I would regret.

  Chapter Seven

  Janie

  I couldn’t believe that I was standing in Dylan’s apartment. It was nothing like I thought it would be. It was a lot homier than I would have imagined. His living room looked like my grandparents, with an older brown sofa, some big clunky wooden tables and a big red Persian rug. It looked nice, but a lot older than I would have thought he would have gone for. I wondered if he had inherited most of the furniture. I can’t imagine that he would have picked the furniture himself. I wanted to ask him, but I didn’t want to offend him.

  “Welcome to my abode.” He waved his arms wide and grinned.

  “Thanks for having me,” I said formally, a shy smile on my face as my heart raced. What was I doing here and what did I expect was going to happen? Was I really going to go all the way with him? Was I going to have my first real hookup? I mean, I guess I had kinda hooked up with Nate all those years ago, but I hadn’t known that was a hookup at the time. My heart stopped for a second as I thought back to that time in my life. The heartache, the pain, the rejection and confusion that I’d felt. It still amazed me now that Nate and I were friends, best friends even, after everything we’d been through. I’d never admit it, but I still felt hurt when I thought about how he’d treated me in college. But he’d been young and dumb and hadn’t known how badly he was going to hurt me. At least that was what he’d said when we’d met up again years later.

  “What’s on your mind?” Dylan asked me with a small smile as he walked closer to me.

  “Nothing.” I shook my head quickly. No way I could tell him that I was here thinking about some guy that had broken my heart years ago. “So, are you going to show me around?”

  “There’s not much to be seen, but sure.” He laughed. “Follow me, madam.” He grabbed my hand and headed toward the kitchen. It was small, but surprisingly pristine.

  “Do you cook in here at all?” I laughed as I stared at the perfect white marble countertops.

  “I’m actually a really good cook.” He laughed as he nodded and watched my shocked face with humor.

  “Oh yea
h, what’s your best dish?” I asked him, wondering if he was leading me on. Was he really a good cook or was he just saying that?

  “I make a mean lasagna.” He winked. “That comes from having an Italian nonna.”

  “Oh, I love lasagna.” I beamed. “Do you make cannoli as well?”

  “Not very well.” He laughed. “I do make good bread sticks though and garlic cheese bread.”

  “Sounds delicious,” I said and I was about to say I couldn’t wait to try his food sometime, but I stopped myself. I had no idea if he was ever going to want to see me again. Let alone cook dinner for me. This wasn’t exactly a conventional sort of first date. Certainly, it wasn’t following the wooing protocol. This was a one-night stand hookup if anything. I felt slightly sad about that. I would have liked to have gotten to know Dylan better. I wasn’t really looking for a hookup, but right now I figured what could it hurt?

  “Do you like to cook?” he asked me inquisitively.

  “I do, but I’m not the best. I do have some signature dishes though.” I grinned.

  “Oh, what are they?” His eyes lit up and he stared at me with such interest that I could feel my body warming up at his attention. It felt nice. It was awesome to be in the company of a hot guy and it was even nicer that he was expressing an interest in me as well, like he really cared. In reality, this was most probably part of his game, but I didn’t care. Right now, it felt nice to be on the receiving end of attention from a hot male. I knew that was pathetic of me, but I didn’t care.

  “I make a mean roast chicken and roasted potatoes. In fact, a roast anything.” I giggled. “I make the best roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. That must be from my English grandparents.” I smiled. “And I make a yummy spotted dick.”

  “Spotted dick?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Yeah, it’s a dessert.” I laughed. “Don’t go getting any ideas.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t.” He winked at me. “Though if you like a spotted dick, you’re going to be disappointed with mine.”

  “Sorry, what? Disappointed with what?”

  “My dick,” he said with a deadpan face. “It’s not spotted.”

  “Oh.” My face went bright red and I looked away embarrassed and suddenly nervous. He sure was forward.

  “Want to see my bedroom now?” he asked and grabbed my hand without even waiting for a response.

  “Uhm ...” My voice trailed off. Shit! This was it. He was about to devour me. He was about to take me to his bed. I was about to have my first real one-night stand. Shit, was it acceptable for me to ask him if he’d had an STD test lately? And could I ask to see it? No, I couldn’t, could I? I started to feel panicked. And could I inspect the condom packets, to make sure they hadn’t expired. And that they weren’t some cheap knock-off brand. Oh God, I could feel myself starting to heat up and not in an excited sense. This wasn’t as thrilling and as sexy as I thought it would be. I was too old and sensible to just jump into bed with some guy, no matter how good looking he was. And boy was he good looking, just staring at his face had me feeling some sort of way. In my dreams, I could fuck him with no worries. I imagined it would be blissful. I imagined that it would be ...

  “So, what do you think?” he asked, once again interrupting my thoughts as we walked into his bedroom. I looked around in surprise. He had a queen-sized bed with a light cream duvet cover. He had posters on the wall, prints of impressionist art. I was pretty sure that I recognized Monet. He didn’t strike me as a Monet guy. He had some books on his nightstand. I was surprised to see that one of them was The Count of Monte Cristo.

  “You’re reading The Count of Monte Cristo?” I asked him awkwardly.

  “Yeah.” He let go of my hand and walked over to the bed. He sat down and grabbed the book and opened it. “Though to be honest, it’s going slowly. I’ve been reading it since high school.”

  “What?” I started laughing. “Did I hear you correctly?”

  “I know, I know. I’m embarrassed.” He made a sheepish face. “What can I say? It’s a long book.”

  “It’s not that long.” I laughed and walked over to him. “Let me see how many pages it is.”

  “It’s about a billion gazillion pages.”

  “Oh, only a billion gazillion? I thought it was a trillion gazillion billion,” I said with a straight face.

  “Oh you.” He gave me a look of endearment and before I knew what was happening, he had leaned over and was kissing me. His lips were soft and warm on mine. We leaned back on the bed and I could feel his hands on my waist and sliding up to my breasts. His lips pressed against mine harder and I could feel his tongue sliding into my mouth seductively as his fingers worked their way down in-between my legs. I kissed him back enthusiastically, he tasted sweet and he knew exactly what he was doing. My body was on fire and as he touched me in my sweetest of spots, I knew that I could definitely go all the way with this man. He was exciting and fun and he made me feel amazing. He rubbed me gently and a slight moan escaped from my mouth. Oh, but it felt so good.

  “You like that, do you?” he whispered in my ear and blew gently.

  “Uh huh,” I said, my mind all over the place as lust overtook me. I wanted to tell him not to stop. I wanted to tell him that it had been too long since I’d felt carnal pleasure. I almost giggled out loud as I realized I’d actually thought the words carnal pleasure. Who said things like carnal pleasure? What was I? Sixty?

  “Janie,” he groaned as my hand reached over to his chest and ran down to his hard-on. “Do you even know what you’re doing to me, you sexy vixen?”

  “I’m not a vixen,” I whispered, as I got even more excited by his words. I let my fingers grip his erection and I trembled as I felt him throbbing beneath me. He was so hard already. I’d made him this hard. This hot man. I felt a tremendous amount of pleasure and power at the fact that he wanted me this badly. Though, I knew I shouldn’t let it make me feel special. It was really just sex. I was pretty sure that he most probably got hard for every woman he brought back here. I wasn’t special. That made me pause for a second. What was I doing? This wasn’t special. I wasn’t special. This didn’t mean anything to him. I was just being used. But he doesn’t mean anything to you either, Janie, I thought to myself. Use him to get some. Get yours. Who cares? my inner devil whispered at me. Who cares? I do? the inner angel screamed back. I care. I don’t want to have casual sex with some random guy I just met. I don’t want this. I want a real relationship. But it’s just sex, it doesn’t have to mean anything. That’s your problem, Janie, the devil screamed back at me. Everyone does it. I don’t do it, though. A sharp pain shot through me and it twisted in my stomach. I don’t do this. I pulled away from Dylan abruptly, words sputtering from my mouth in apology.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, unable to look him in the eyes. “I can’t do this.”

  “Huh?” He blinked at me, the disappointment evident in his tone. “What do you mean?”

  “Sorry, I’m not this kind of girl. I don’t do hookups. That’s not what I want. I just, I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, hey, Janie, look at me.” His hands gripped my chin and he brought my face up so that I would look at him. “I know we just met, but I’m not a dog. If you’re not ready, that’s okay.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think I’m a tease or anything.”

  “I don’t think that.” He shook his head, his eyes thoughtful. “Would you like something to drink? Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

  “No thanks.” I shook my head. “I think I should probably just head home.”

  “Oh? You can stay the night if you want. I promise we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  “No, no, it’s fine. I just think I need to go home. Sorry.” I bit down on my lower lip. “I didn’t mean to waste your time.”

  “Janie, Janie, you could never waste my time. I’ve had a great evening.” He leaned over and stroked my face. “We can go at your pace.
That’s okay.”

  “Uh, thanks,” I said as I jumped off of the bed. I grabbed my handbag and pulled my phone out. I had a bunch of missed texts and calls from Nate and I sighed. What did he want?

  “What’s your address?” I asked Dylan. “I want to grab an Uber.”

  “No, no, let me drive you home,” he said. “I’m not going to let you Uber home.”

  “It’s fine. Trust me.”

  “A true gentleman doesn’t let a lady go home alone.”

  “Uhm, okay,” I said, not really sure how to answer that. Was he trying to say he was a true gentleman? After he’d just been feeling me up? I wanted to start giggling, but I knew that that wouldn’t be appropriate.

  “Well thank you. I appreciate it,” I said as I smoothed out my clothes and brushed back my hair.

  “No worries, pretty lady.” His voice was silky and while I appreciated his comment, I had to admit that it was slightly grating. How often was he going to make pretty lady or sexy lady comments? Was that all I was to him? I mean, it was nice that he found me physically attractive, but was I only my body? Was there nothing else he liked about me? I knew I was being slightly unreasonable. He didn’t even know me. What more could I really be expecting from him? If I wanted him to get to know me and my mind, I shouldn’t have agreed to meet up with him after basically what was one or two messages. We both knew what this was or what it was supposed to be. I’d just realized that I really wasn’t that kind of girl, no matter how much I had tried to convince myself that I could be. Yes, I wanted to hook up and have fun, but I wasn’t sure if I could do it without any sort of commitment whatsoever. I sighed as I realized that I was still the old-fashioned girl that I’d always been. I didn’t want to be this girl anymore. I wanted to change things up. My way just wasn’t working for me in the way that it had before. I wasn’t meeting any great guys and I wasn’t in a good relationship. I wasn’t in any relationship. And I was lonely and horny and wanted more. I was annoyed with myself for not really knowing what I wanted. Or lying to myself about what I wanted. I knew that I should speak to Anabel and get her thoughts. But I knew that she thought that the biggest problem in my life was Nate. She didn’t say it out loud, not anymore, but I knew that she hated that I’d let him back in my life, after he’d hurt me so badly. I knew it didn’t really make any kind of sense. Nate and I never should have had the sort of friendship we did now; after how he’d treated me in college. Yet, somehow it worked. We had this weird special close friendship and I had somehow learned to get over my heartache from the past. Though sometimes I did wonder, maybe it wasn’t healthy. Maybe we were too close for platonic friends. Maybe I hadn’t moved on as much as I liked to think. I didn’t know anymore. He seemed to be fine. He dated. He met new girls. He had fun. And sometimes I was okay with it and sometimes I wasn’t. Sometimes I woke up in the middle of the night feeling inextricably sad that he had someone close, someone intimate, someone he was dating that wasn’t me. Not that they ever lasted. And so, my jealousy was constrained. It ebbed and flowed and I tried not to think about it.