We were camping by a lake, our tent set up in an enclave several feet from the water. We had arrived early in the morning and spent the day swimming and laying out. I felt this free, give-no-fucks feeling whenever we were away from our routine, cell phones, Facebook and minutiae of daily life. It was the feeling I wanted to live in forever.
“Tell me everything!” Paige’s animated expression demands through the screen of my iPad. She’s three thousand miles away in Santa Monica, and I’m in Manhattan, but it’s like she’s sitting here with me on my couch in my miniscule studio.
“It was unfuckingbelivable! I don’t even know where to start.” I reach for the mug of mint tea, on my coffee table.
“Hey, I’m kinda broke right now, can we rent a movie instead of going to the theater?” I text my friend Cory while on a train home.
“Sure.” he replies. “Saturday still good?”
“Yup. Do you want to come to my place? My roommate will probably be there, but we can watch it in my room.” I bite my lower lip as I press “send”.
I was tipsy on the dance floor among other writhing bodies, the music so loud my chest was thumping to the bass. I loved this, loved being a stranger. Even to myself. I wasn’t that girl who lost her bestest, who had been by her side for days on end, hoping, wishing and praying for something to turn around after what would turn out to be a successful suicide attempt.
“I just got out of the shower. What room number are you?” Mark’s text reads.
I respond with trembling fingers, having just raced through a scalding hot shower myself. My hair is dripping on to the floor as I pull on the exorbitantly expensive La Perla bra I bought for the occasion. I clasp the front before reaching into it, arranging my flesh so my breasts appear fuller. I step into the matching thong, my damp skin making it hard to pull it up my thighs. I really wanted my hair and make-up to be done, but I’m out of time.
I was in the middle of a dull movie, with a half-eaten chicken and veggie stir-fry in a bowl on my coffee table. An empty wine glass resided next to it.
My phone chimed on the cushion by my foot with the arrival of a new text message.
“Hi! I’m almost home. I had a shitty day and I’m gonna crash.” It was from my boyfriend Nick.
I paused before writing back a “goodnight” message. I was hoping he would come over after work. Thoughts of his cock in my mouth had kept me pre-occupied at work for most of the day.
I replied instead with “May I come over, give you a blow job, and tuck you in?”
I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, completely bare, watching them kiss. One of Sam’s arms is wrapped around Andy’s neck, the other around his waist. Andy’s hands are pressed into Sam’s back, their erections pressed against their torsos. They’re beautiful in their embrace, all ropey muscles, soft skin, flat stomachs and facial hair. I can’t decide whose cock I want to lick first.
I smell like sex, and hope no one notices as I take my window seat in row thirty two on a New York bound Boeing 737. I wasn’t ready to wash him away as I was leaving, throwing things haphazardly into my suitcase while he looked on, sprawled out on the bed.
Charlotte looks up from the novel in her lap to see her partner, Steven playing with a green pendant dangling from a delicate gold chain while sitting at his desk.
I knew it would happen eventually. The ink was barely dry on the divorce papers before Justin was calling me, saying something about wanting to swing by and pick up a couple of boxes he left in our, excuse me, my attic.