Ally
"I'm not trying to be annoying, but I have to ask. How was it?" Piper blurts as the door of our apartment building closes behind us.
"He's the unicorn," I admit glumly.
"Damn." Piper jams her hands into her pockets, and we trudge along.
I give her full marks for waiting this long. After Austin left this morning, Piper and Carrie banged on my door and yelled for me to get my ass out into the living room where I would be subject to a full debriefing.
I feigned sleep and hid, not because I was embarrassed, but because I wasn't sure what it all meant.
Piper was dressed in her coat, hat, gloves, and boots when I got home from class. No more escaping her.
The sun's out and there's no wind, which means there are plenty of people out getting a little fresh air. Piper waits until we're relatively alone to pepper me with more questions.
"When are you seeing him again?"
"I don't know."
"Did he say he would call you?"
"I can't remember."
She stops. "What's that mean?"
"It means..." God, how do I put this delicately? "I was too worn out this morning to remember my own name. He whispered something in my ear, but I just wanted to go back to sleep." We'd made real inroads into that box of condoms.
Her mouth drops open. "Damn," she says finally. "Please tell me that you're going to see him again. Or that if you're done with him, I can get a shot."
Every hair on my body bristles in protest. Austin with Piper? My stomach flips over. Austin bracing himself one-armed over Piper's sexy body? I fist my hands. Austin whispering in her ear that he wants her to come all over his dick until there's not an ounce left in her body? I nearly bare my teeth at her. Piper knows immediately, without me saying even a word, how much I don't like the thought of Austin with anyone but me, and bends over to howl with laughter.
"Shut up," I say, but there's no fierceness in my command. It's more of a lament.
I wait until she's done gasping for air to start walking again.
"So what's your hang-up?" she says when she catches up a few minutes later, tears from her laughter still clinging to her eyes. "Because if I felt that possessive about a guy, I wouldn't be letting him go the next morning without a second date chiseled in the sidewalk in front of the student union."
"Why stop there?" I say sarcastically. "How about I brand him? Put my initials on his ass."
"No," Piper disagrees. "If you're going to brand him, it's got to be a place where everyone can see it. Like his wrist. Maybe his knuckles."
"Are you serious?"
"A little bit." She spreads her index and thumb in a mock measurement of sorts.
"See, that's why I'm worried. He's gone a lot, and when he's around and I'm busy, he's going to get bored and wander away." But when I hear myself criticize Austin, I know immediately it's unfair. He told me himself that he hadn't wanted a repeat of his failed freshman romance. I shouldn't insult him by doubting him when he's given me no cause for concern.
"He's not your mom," Piper chides me gently.
"You mean I'm not my mom." I'd hope not. I've spent my whole life trying to not be her.
"No. I meant what I said. You're afraid every hot, attractive guy is your mom, who will end up dumping you and leaving you with your pants around your ankles and a little girl to raise."
I really have to stop talking to Piper so much about my past.
"I..." I don't know what to say, but I don't have to because Piper isn't finished.
"You aren't your mom. You never were. You're just not made up that way. What you fear is falling for someone like your mom: flighty, irresponsible. So you date people who you perceive are just like you. If you were afraid of being your mom, you'd stay away from people who feel like mirrors."
I tug my zipper down to let some cold air into my suddenly too-warm coat, but I don't dismiss Piper's theory out of hand. I've always chosen guys who were careful and cautious. Low angst sort of males. Ones who I figured were too dull or lazy to get tired of me and move on when, in fact, the relationships never got off the ground because of the overwhelming dullness of them.
Not one had been flighty or silly. Austin's not either, but he's bold and that's shocking to my careful, plodding existence. Slowly, I start to put words to my jumbled thoughts. "Assume everything you say is true-"
"It is. Always. Forever," she says smugly.
I ignore her. "Assume what you say is true. That still means Austin and I are opposites, and while the saying is that opposites attract, what happens after they've collided?" I slap my hands together. "My parents were opposites. My dad's a hard worker, my mom is flighty. They don't have anything in common, and it led to a lot of heartbreak for them." For me, too, for that matter. "It's hard for me to envision two people who are opposites sticking together."
Piper chews on that for a moment. "I don't see you and Austin as opposites. You're more alike than you think. You both love being part of a team. You both want to excel at what you do. Really the only difference is that you tend to take a more cautious approach to things, and Austin seems to be a feet-first kind of guy."
"Isn't that a really big difference, though?" Isn't it? Or am I making a bunch of mountains where there doesn't even need to be a hill?
"Only if you want it to be."
Austin
"Suck a dick, asshole." My thumb presses the controller to the right while I trigger the kick mechanism.
"Already do, dickweed. I've got this." And fuck if Dez doesn't block my shot.
"Fuck." I toss the controller down. I can't concentrate for shit tonight.
"Are you thinking about that girl?" Dez guesses immediately that I'm preoccupied with Ally but can't believe it. He asks in astonishment, "How can you miss her? Didn't you spend all night hauling her ashes?"
"Hauling her ashes?" I shake my head. Dez's getting stranger and stranger.
"No bueno?" He pulls out his phone.
I shake my head. "It sounds like she's dirty inside."
"Hmm. I don't want that."
"Why are you even asking? Aren't fuck, sex, laid, and tapping it good enough?"
"I'm writing my next article about obscure sexual euphemisms." He makes a few notes in his phone.
"How the hell did you decide to write that?"
He grins. "Apparently the magazine gets a lot of searches for that topic, so we're beefing up our search engine optimization by writing on topics people are interested in. What do you think of doodling the alphabet?"
"Only if it's oral, but are you really doodling? I mean, if you're doing it right, you should be applying some serious pressure down there."
"Fuck, man, since when are you requiring dirty sex terms to be so damn precise?" He presses the delete key on his phone a little harder than necessary.
"I don't know." I reach for my beer. This conversation requires me to be a lot drunker than I am. "You asked for my opinion and I'm giving it to you."
"Yeah. Yeah. How about sheathing the sword?"
"Doesn't sound very obscure. That's been around since the Middle Ages." I drink half the bottle. If I get drunk enough, I can drown out Dez and forget Ally. Actually no, if I get too drunk, I'll probably end up outside Ally's apartment.
I did agree to only one night.
Or did I?
I mean, she said one night, but I don't remember making any explicit promises that I'd stay away.
"What about caulking the tub?"
I raise my hand. "Caulk the tub?"
He grins. "It's white. Sticky. You're spreading it all over her."
I want to give him shit, but he's kind of right. "Is this a list for construction workers or women?"
He makes a face. "Good point. Was it any good?"
Normally I didn't have a problem sharing details with Dez. Hell, we'd even double-teamed a girl or girls from time to time. So why did the thought of him knowing anything about Ally's body, her thready moans, her propensity to fuck with her lips slightly parted and her eyes squeezed shut make me want to put a fist through his face?
"What? Not telling me?" He sits back with a smirk. "Are you in love? Should I shake my tux out of storage?"
"I like her. Deal with it." I scowl and pick up the controller again. How'd this off-season become so damned complicated? One minute I was bathing in champagne and the next I'm stressing about the team and now a girl.
"You're not messing with her, are you?" Dez's concern for Ally should piss me off, but it's Dez.
"How come Jace didn't get this lecture?"
"Because he's Jace. And Trish kinda scared me."
"You think I'm an amoral dog? You wanted me to date your sister, for Christ's sake." Okay, now it's starting to piss me off. Dez's done his share of the dirty deeds when it comes to girls. "Do I need to bring up suitcase girl?"
"Nah, man." He flushes under his skin, and I feel a tiny bit guilty bringing it up. Dez always says his lowest moment was that night. "Look, you're a good dude and an awesome teammate, but the whole 'girl hiding in a suitcase' is exactly why I'm worried. We've done some shit neither of us are particularly proud of."
Casual sex had been our modus operandi since I broke it off with Kira at the beginning of my sophomore year. Dez had never been able to stick with one girl or guy, no matter how hard he tried, so we figured the next best thing was one-night or two-night stands with girls who wanted the same thing-no-strings-attached fun in the sack. Or the bathroom. Or the nook by the ice machine in a hotel. The out-of-town girls were the absolute best. They knew you were coming in for the night and didn't expect anything but a good time.
I delivered on every occasion. Ally wanted the same thing, so why didn't it sit right?
Dez does write for a women's magazine. He's got a sister. Of all my friends, he's the most qualified to give advice... I think. Fuck it. What do I have to lose by getting another point of view here?
"Ally was the one who wanted one night. Think she means it?"
"Dunno. Why not text her and find out?"
Why don't I just text her? She did, at least, give me her phone number last night before kicking me out. I want to slap myself on the forehead. And I told Ally to stop overthinking things.
I pull out my phone and start typing.
"How about surfing the curve?" Dez says.
My fingers pause over the screen as my mind takes a minute to figure out exactly what the hell Dez is talking about. "I think I read that on a Twitter hashtag."
"Fuck. I think I did, too." He presses the backspace on his phone.
Shaking my head, I text Ally.
Me: What're you doing?
Ally: End of mock trial practice. May not make it home. Was so horrible may commit hara-kari.
Me: Can that wait until tomorrow? I'd like to see you again.
Ally: I plan to watch a psychological drama with my roommates. You?
Me: Losing badly at FIFA Soccer to Dez.
"What about laying the lumber?"
I look up from my phone and share a smirk with Dez. One particular college football commentator constantly uses some variation of "laying the lumber" or "laying the wood" when referencing a hard hit. Why? None of us can figure it out, but we laugh like we're in middle school every time he says it. He says it a lot.
"Absolutely, you need to include that one," I inform Dez before returning to my texts.
Ally: Sounds thrilling.
Me: How hard and fast was that one-night rule?
There's a long pause, and the stupid animated ellipsis cycles repeatedly from one end of the tiny gray balloon to the other while I stare at the screen like Moses waiting for the ten commandments to be inscribed in the stone tablets. Whoever thought of that texting feature should be shot.
Finally, the text comes through.
Ally: I don't know. Suppose you can come over.
I get up the second I'm done reading the text. Dez grabs my sweats. "What the hell? We're in the middle of a game."
"I forfeit."
"You going to Ally's place? Have you talked to her about Dallas yet?"
"I'm handling it." I scowl. Way to be a buzzkill, Dez.
"Handling it how? Because I was talking to Trent the other night and he said Dallas hasn't indicated that he's interested in joining Trent's backfield. Plus, he said that some of the O-line guys are pissed off about it and are looking for a little off-season throwdown. Situation is going to get out of control if you don't do something."
"Great. Why don't you tell Trent to worry about getting the secondary in shape with the guys he has? I'll worry about Dallas."
"This Ally girl has to have some influence on Dallas. I mean, look at Jace and Trish. She's got him wrapped around her finger. If she asked him to move to safety, he'd be doing drills with Trent tomorrow," Dez insists.
"I'm getting sick and tired of people lumping Dallas and Ally together. They aren't a fucking couple."
"Hey, man. Maybe not in Ally's mind, but he's got her picture in his locker."
"So fucking what?" Jesus, I'm reduced to being jealous of a girl's friend. I don't like that about me, but I can't deny the truth of it. Every time I think of Dallas and Ally together, it makes me want to crush objects into tiny, dusty particles.
Dez backs away. "Why don't you put your guns away. We don't have to talk about it right now. We can table it." I look down and see my hands curled into fists. "I do have some advice about Ally, though. First, you should admit your feelings to her. Girls love feelings. They love talking about their feelings. So tell her that she makes you think of birds and flowers."
"Birds and flowers?" I gape at him. The last thing I think of when it comes to Ally is birds and flowers. Big words, long brunette hair, yes. Delicate, fluttery things? No.
"Second," he continues as if I'm not even here. In fact, is he dictating into his phone? "Don't ever mention that you had sex in the past. It's good to be experienced but not too experienced. You want to be the gentleman in the streets, but the guy who can get his freak on, because you read it in a book, in the sheets. Third-"
I hold up my hand before Dez can go on. "No, sorry. I don't listen to your advice anymore."
He looks hurt. "Why not? I'm a professional."
"Your articles consist of how to recognize when your type is the asshole and what to do next and how to enjoy yourself when your partner is selfish, which have zero to do with dating."
"They have everything to do with dating," Dez protests.
"I'm asking Jace."
"Wait a second. Jace? Dude has never dated in his life."
"And now he has a girlfriend."
I run upstairs to the third-floor apartment and pound on the door. It swings open a minute later, and Trish steps out, flushed. "Bye, babe."
Jace is right behind her sporting sleepy eyes and a smug-as-shit smile. They just had sex.
"Trish, just the person I want to talk to. I'm going over to a girl's place. Should I bring something?"
"I don't know. What's the context?"
"We're just hanging out." Hopefully having sex later so I can wear the same smug-as-shit smile.
"Yeah, I'd definitely bring something. Maybe something to drink. A snack even. If you're hungry, bring something for yourself."
I know exactly what I'll bring. "Thanks."
Dez's at the base of the stairs looking offended. "I could have given you that advice."
"Dude, fine. Next time I need some advice on obscure phrases for sex, I'll come to you. Now get out of the way. I need to throw some clothes on and get to Starbucks."
"Hey, ladies."
Two girls stand just inside the entrance to Ally's apartment. Both faces hold a certain amount of skepticism, as if opening the door wider might let in a host of demons, not just one dude.
"I'm Piper, this is Carrie." The shorter blonde girl tips her head toward the other blonde.
"Nice to meet you. I brought coffee." I hold up the cardboard beverage container. "I wasn't sure what you all wanted but Starbucks said Ally usually drinks a peppermint mocha."
"You went to Starbucks and asked what she likes to drink?" Piper's eyebrows shoot high onto her forehead.
Shit, have I made a mistake here? Should I have played it cooler? "Too stalkerish?"
"Too awesome." Piper drags me inside and slams the door shut.
"What else did you bring?" She takes the beverage holder from my hand, and Carrie reaches for the bag under my arm.
"He brought Fruity Mint Swirl ice-cream," announces Piper.
The two stare at me like I've got two heads.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask with slight alarm. I look down to check whether my zipper is shut. Yup, the barn door is closed.
"Did you really bring over a container of her favorite ice cream and latte?"
I take a sip. "It tastes okay." Fuck, coffee is disgusting but this is for Ally, so I'm suffering through it.
"What are you?"
"Are you real?"
Their skepticism is disconcerting. "I think the real question is what kind of guys are you dating that this is a phenomenon rather than an ordinary occurrence."
Fortunately, Ally blows in before the two can dissect me any further. "Here." I shove the drink into her hands. "For you."
"Thanks." She takes a deep sip and hands the drink back to me along with her backpack.
"How was mock trial?" Piper asks.
"Terrible. Elle seems to have forgotten everything. I was off my game and kept missing objections. Sun Hee was completely rattled and Miles had to leave the room four times to keep from yelling at us. I don't get Elle. She's like two different people. One day she performs flawlessly and two days later it's like she doesn't even remember that she's on the team."
"Maybe she's has a twin." I take Ally's coat and hang it on the hook, placing mine on top of it. There. It's my jacket covering hers. Not Dallas'. Not the Ken doll's from the coffee store. Mine.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.
I'm an only child. I don't like to share. Won't share. Don't believe in sharing.
Ally shudders. "A twin? The world does not deserve two Elles. But you know? I don't want to talk about it. Let's turn the television on."
"You sure you want to watch that show?" Carrie asks in a stage whisper.
"Why wouldn't we?" Ally responds with annoyance.
Carrie jerks her head toward me. "Because he's here."
"Don't change your plans on my account." I raise both hands.
Their version of a psychological drama is a show about wedding dresses. During the opening credits, my phone rings. I ignore it. Ally is sitting only a half cushion away from me and I'm plotting how to eliminate the distance. With her two roommates watching my every move, I don't make much progress.
Against my will, I'm drawn into the sad story about two women who can't stand up to their moms and how they're desperate for just a smile from the older women. I guess it is a psychological drama, but hell, I'd watch a dozen weepy chick flicks if it meant Ally was within touching distance. Halfway through the second one, she's pushed her bare feet under my thigh. For warmth, she informed me. Whatever excuse you want to give, Alls. I'm here to warm everything from your toes to your pussy to your delicious-looking mouth. My phone beeps again.
"You can get that," Ally says.
"You're sure? I don't want to be rude." I don't really know the details of dating anymore. I know answering my cellphone when I was dating Kira was a huge pet peeve of hers.
"Yeah, I mean, the show's pretty repetitive. Carrie's on her phone and Piper's doing homework."
I slip out my phone. "It's Dez." I turn the screen to her so she can read the 'sup?
Me: Watching TV.
Dez: What do you think of spa day?
Me: I guess?
Dez: Ask your panel of experts.
Me: Panel of what?
Dez: Ally and her friends. Ask them.
Oh, for fuck's sake. I turn to Ally. "My roommate Dez writes a man's advice column for a women's magazine. He wants me to consult you on whether his list of euphemisms for sex is any good. Feel free to say no."
Carrie slaps her hands against her face. "Oh my God. Your roommate has a magazine?" At my nod, she turns to Piper and Ally. "Dez writes 'From My Three Eyes' column in Monologue."
"'Three Eyes'? For real?" I had no idea what Dez's column was named.
"It's cheeky. We know what it means." She rolls her eyes at my shock.
Cheeky? Sounds vulgar. I realize my assumptions of women are all wrong, but that's my own damn fault for not spending more time with them when they have their clothes on.
"I love 'Three Eyes,'" Carrie exclaims. "I had no idea he went to UF!"
"He wants to know if he can come over to hang." I turn the phone again so Ally can read his message, knowing she'll appreciate it. I'm available to meet with my new fan club. Tell me when and where.
"Sure, why not?"
"Tell him to bring us something," Piper declares. "What do we want?"
"We're out of microwave popcorn."
"On it," I tell them.
Me: Price of admission is popcorn. There are five of us.
Dez: Make that six. Jace is bored now that Trish is at work.
"Okay if my buddy Jace comes over? His girlfriend is working."
"Sure. The more the merrier, but someone will have to sit on the floor."
"Dez can. He's used to it."
I don't know if he's used to sitting on the floor, but he'll do it and he'll like it because I'm not moving my ass from Ally's sofa until she physically hoists me out of here.
I'm part of her life now. She's not getting rid of me.