Scooter lounged on the couch in the bachelor pad that he and Adam shared. It was Saturday morning, and true to his bachelor status, he spent it watching cartoons on the TV while still in his boxer shorts. Since Scooter's break up with Julie shortly after the start of her freshman year at Dartmouth, he mostly dabbled here and there with hot blondes that he met in his nighttime job as a bartender. It was a pretty good life.
Scooter barely turned his head when he heard the unmistakable sound of their front door being unlocked. "Hey Adam. Did you get my yogurt and pretzels?"
Adam emerged through the foyer with grocery bags in hand. "Check and check. Don't forget to pick up your dry-cleaning—and I went and got your car washed this morning."
"Are you sure that you aren't having second thoughts about this wedding? Who's going to look after me when you move out?"
Adam crouched down to pick up a shirt that Scooter had haphazardly dropped on the hardwood floor. "More like, act like your mother, right?" Adam said as he chucked the shirt at Scooter's face.
Adam plopped down on the couch next to Scooter and took a handful of his jellybeans. "Do you think that I'm doing the right thing?"
Scooter's eyes were fixated on the morning's episode of Pepper Ann. "Cold feet?"
Adam sighed. "I know that I shouldn't feel this way, but..." He cut himself off.
Scooter turned his head sideways to look Adam in the eye. "Think about it, Adam. You're moving cross-country to a city you don't know. You'll have a new job and a new house. And I know that you love Tamsin, but for the past five years you've seen her like one weekend a month. Once you get married, you're going to be around her every day. It's going to take a lot of adjusting and its natural to be nervous. It doesn't mean anything so don't worry about it."
Adam squinted an eye. "Man, how'd you get so wise?"
As Scooter stood up and pulled on a shirt he said all too seriously, "I'm telling you, its those two years that I've been alive longer than you. That's a lot of extra experience and maturity."
Adam thought about Scooter's ability to burp 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' and the extensive dodge ball collection he kept in his closet 'just in case.' As of right now, Scooter was wearing his favorite 'Star Wars' boxer shorts. Adam snorted. "No, really, whose wisdom did you rip off?"
Scooter started laughing. "Alright, I'll admit it—I read something like that in one of the GQ magazines lying around Derek's room one time." Scooter referred to their former high school Varsity hockey teammate, Derek Martin, who had a reputation for grooming and dressing himself religiously to the famous men's magazine.
Adam distractedly flipped through the photos of the house he and Tamsin were planning on buying. "Well, thanks anyway. I needed that."
As Scooter walked into the kitchen, presumably to grab a carton of ice cream for breakfast, he chuckled, "That's what the best man does, right?"
From inside of the kitchen, Scooter yelled, "Before I forget, I took a message for you this morning."
Adam was studying one of the many furniture catalogues strewn on the coffee table. "Oh, really? Who from?"
Scooter emerged again from the kitchen. "She said her name was Roxanne Baker. I don't remember ever meeting her. Who is she?"
Adam's expression was vaguely nervous at the mention of her name. "You remember last year when I went to that conference in Milwaukee? Roxanne was one of the speakers there. Did she say what she wanted?"
With a spoonful of chocolate chip ice cream still in his mouth, Scooter mumbled, "Something about her being in town and wanting you to show her around maybe? Her number is on the refrigerator." Scooter offered Adam his spoon, but Adam simply shook his head and walked to the kitchen.
Adam gazed at the piece of paper he held in his hand. Roxanne Baker, Jesus. Adam had neglected to tell Scooter the whole story about Roxanne and intended to keep it that way.
Roxanne Baker was a 27-year-old journalist for a big-shot finance publication. Adam had been attracted to her instantly, with her silky straight blonde hair and vibrant brown eyes. Roxanne was funny, and held every single person in the room enraptured when she spoke—even when the subject of her talk was about brainstorming catchy taglines for her columns. Adam found himself compulsively attending Roxanne's seminars, even if her topics held no relevance to his field of study. Adam wouldn't admit to himself that he was nursing an extreme crush.
Adam swore to himself when he recalled the last night of the conference, eating dinner alone in the hotel dining room. As he saw Roxanne approaching his table, Adam knew that he didn't stand a chance.
They started out holding a pretty tame conversation about the general happenings of the conference, comparing experiences and the highlights of the seminars Adam attended. The still-in-college Adam was in awe of Roxanne, the beautiful woman five years his senior. After several glasses of very fine wine, Adam started glancing at his watch, thinking that he'd better head back to his hotel room to call Tamsin. Roxanne had other ideas, however. The combination of Roxanne's soft fingers tracing light inroads on his hand and her foot unsubtly running up and down Adam's leg broke down his defenses.
Adam woke up alone the next morning a little hazy of memory, with only a tell-all lipstick stain on his pillow as an indication of his infidelity. Adam lay still on his bed, frozen with shock. He had just cheated on his girlfriend, and it made him feel empty. With a steely resolve, Adam sat up in his bed and promised that no one would find out. There was no use in ruining his life over a woman he would never see again.
Shaking himself out of the memory, Adam's palms started sweating. How naïve was he to think that his past mistake would not come back to haunt him? Seemingly possessed by a force that Adam could not explain, he picked up and phone and slowly dialed the number sloppily written on the paper Adam held in his hand.
Scooter barely turned his head when he heard the unmistakable sound of their front door being unlocked. "Hey Adam. Did you get my yogurt and pretzels?"
Adam emerged through the foyer with grocery bags in hand. "Check and check. Don't forget to pick up your dry-cleaning—and I went and got your car washed this morning."
"Are you sure that you aren't having second thoughts about this wedding? Who's going to look after me when you move out?"
Adam crouched down to pick up a shirt that Scooter had haphazardly dropped on the hardwood floor. "More like, act like your mother, right?" Adam said as he chucked the shirt at Scooter's face.
Adam plopped down on the couch next to Scooter and took a handful of his jellybeans. "Do you think that I'm doing the right thing?"
Scooter's eyes were fixated on the morning's episode of Pepper Ann. "Cold feet?"
Adam sighed. "I know that I shouldn't feel this way, but..." He cut himself off.
Scooter turned his head sideways to look Adam in the eye. "Think about it, Adam. You're moving cross-country to a city you don't know. You'll have a new job and a new house. And I know that you love Tamsin, but for the past five years you've seen her like one weekend a month. Once you get married, you're going to be around her every day. It's going to take a lot of adjusting and its natural to be nervous. It doesn't mean anything so don't worry about it."
Adam squinted an eye. "Man, how'd you get so wise?"
As Scooter stood up and pulled on a shirt he said all too seriously, "I'm telling you, its those two years that I've been alive longer than you. That's a lot of extra experience and maturity."
Adam thought about Scooter's ability to burp 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' and the extensive dodge ball collection he kept in his closet 'just in case.' As of right now, Scooter was wearing his favorite 'Star Wars' boxer shorts. Adam snorted. "No, really, whose wisdom did you rip off?"
Scooter started laughing. "Alright, I'll admit it—I read something like that in one of the GQ magazines lying around Derek's room one time." Scooter referred to their former high school Varsity hockey teammate, Derek Martin, who had a reputation for grooming and dressing himself religiously to the famous men's magazine.
Adam distractedly flipped through the photos of the house he and Tamsin were planning on buying. "Well, thanks anyway. I needed that."
As Scooter walked into the kitchen, presumably to grab a carton of ice cream for breakfast, he chuckled, "That's what the best man does, right?"
From inside of the kitchen, Scooter yelled, "Before I forget, I took a message for you this morning."
Adam was studying one of the many furniture catalogues strewn on the coffee table. "Oh, really? Who from?"
Scooter emerged again from the kitchen. "She said her name was Roxanne Baker. I don't remember ever meeting her. Who is she?"
Adam's expression was vaguely nervous at the mention of her name. "You remember last year when I went to that conference in Milwaukee? Roxanne was one of the speakers there. Did she say what she wanted?"
With a spoonful of chocolate chip ice cream still in his mouth, Scooter mumbled, "Something about her being in town and wanting you to show her around maybe? Her number is on the refrigerator." Scooter offered Adam his spoon, but Adam simply shook his head and walked to the kitchen.
Adam gazed at the piece of paper he held in his hand. Roxanne Baker, Jesus. Adam had neglected to tell Scooter the whole story about Roxanne and intended to keep it that way.
Roxanne Baker was a 27-year-old journalist for a big-shot finance publication. Adam had been attracted to her instantly, with her silky straight blonde hair and vibrant brown eyes. Roxanne was funny, and held every single person in the room enraptured when she spoke—even when the subject of her talk was about brainstorming catchy taglines for her columns. Adam found himself compulsively attending Roxanne's seminars, even if her topics held no relevance to his field of study. Adam wouldn't admit to himself that he was nursing an extreme crush.
Adam swore to himself when he recalled the last night of the conference, eating dinner alone in the hotel dining room. As he saw Roxanne approaching his table, Adam knew that he didn't stand a chance.
They started out holding a pretty tame conversation about the general happenings of the conference, comparing experiences and the highlights of the seminars Adam attended. The still-in-college Adam was in awe of Roxanne, the beautiful woman five years his senior. After several glasses of very fine wine, Adam started glancing at his watch, thinking that he'd better head back to his hotel room to call Tamsin. Roxanne had other ideas, however. The combination of Roxanne's soft fingers tracing light inroads on his hand and her foot unsubtly running up and down Adam's leg broke down his defenses.
Adam woke up alone the next morning a little hazy of memory, with only a tell-all lipstick stain on his pillow as an indication of his infidelity. Adam lay still on his bed, frozen with shock. He had just cheated on his girlfriend, and it made him feel empty. With a steely resolve, Adam sat up in his bed and promised that no one would find out. There was no use in ruining his life over a woman he would never see again.
Shaking himself out of the memory, Adam's palms started sweating. How naïve was he to think that his past mistake would not come back to haunt him? Seemingly possessed by a force that Adam could not explain, he picked up and phone and slowly dialed the number sloppily written on the paper Adam held in his hand.