Donna leans up on her left elbow so she faces Josh; he's lying on his back and he's not sure if either of them are really awake. Half his face is shrouded in the bland yellow sheet and she pulls it back away from his face, and he thinks that neither of them are awake at all.
"Did you ever have sex with anyone at the Whitehouse?" she asks deliriously, and he holds back a laugh and doesn't meet her eyes.
"Yes."
"I mean, besides Amy and Mandy."
"Yes."
Donna tries not to look surprised. She had been very sure that she knew everything that Josh had ever done.
"Who?" she asks, before she can stop herself, and she regrets it immediately because she knows he will answer. Not because he's "that kind of guy", but because Josh has always been in such a rush, such a terrible rush to make people think he's ahead of the curve that he doesn't know how to stop himself.
"CJ." he says casually, but not casually, just trying to be casual and she wishes he wouldn't. Her eyebrows arch suddenly.
"When?"
"Just once, during the first campaign. Before you were with us."
"Oh." She almost asks if there's anyone else, but she doesn't, partially because it's terrible and useless, and partially because she knows that she doesn't have to ask.
"Ainsley." he says, unprompted.
Donna had suspected that, but she looked surprised besides it. She didn't have to say anything.
"You?" he asks her, and she suddenly feels so disgusting. She suddenly feels like they're not lovers, not people who are in love. She feels like they are two thirteen-year-old boys sharing scorecards beneath the bleachers. Two people who really don't get it, and who maybe never will.
"No." she lies.
She loves working at the Whitehouse.
She feels stunted.
"Did you ever have sex with anyone at the Whitehouse?" she asks deliriously, and he holds back a laugh and doesn't meet her eyes.
"Yes."
"I mean, besides Amy and Mandy."
"Yes."
Donna tries not to look surprised. She had been very sure that she knew everything that Josh had ever done.
"Who?" she asks, before she can stop herself, and she regrets it immediately because she knows he will answer. Not because he's "that kind of guy", but because Josh has always been in such a rush, such a terrible rush to make people think he's ahead of the curve that he doesn't know how to stop himself.
"CJ." he says casually, but not casually, just trying to be casual and she wishes he wouldn't. Her eyebrows arch suddenly.
"When?"
"Just once, during the first campaign. Before you were with us."
"Oh." She almost asks if there's anyone else, but she doesn't, partially because it's terrible and useless, and partially because she knows that she doesn't have to ask.
"Ainsley." he says, unprompted.
Donna had suspected that, but she looked surprised besides it. She didn't have to say anything.
"You?" he asks her, and she suddenly feels so disgusting. She suddenly feels like they're not lovers, not people who are in love. She feels like they are two thirteen-year-old boys sharing scorecards beneath the bleachers. Two people who really don't get it, and who maybe never will.
"No." she lies.
She loves working at the Whitehouse.
She feels stunted.