“So, like, how serious we talkin’ here?” Gone is the smile that once split her face in two. Her eyes are scanning my shirt and then they dart over to the wall behind me and continue around the room. She won’t look at me and that just makes this so much more awkward.
“I dunno,” I mumble, shoving my hands in my pockets and rocking back on my heels. “Serious, I guess.”
“You wanna explain that?” Colleen is pushing and it’s pissing me off. I don’t know why she is pushing me to talk about this. Can’t she see how uncomfortable I am? I can see how uncomfortable she is. She won’t even look at me. So I get fed up.
“I’m gonna marry that girl,” I say, finding my voice much to my surprise. Colleen’s eyes shoot to mine. She looks like she’s been hit in the gut. Good. Maybe she’ll know how I feel all the damn time now. “She’s nice and she’s smart and she loves me.”
“Being nice isn’t a reason to marry someone,” Colleen stands a little taller as she says this. “Neither is them loving you.” These never-ending games have worn me out.
“Well, I am going to marry her, Colleen,” I snap. “What would you know about getting married, anyway?”
“I know enough to know that the only reason for marrying anyone is because you can’t imagine a single reason not to; and that you want to be tied to them in every way possible.” Her lip quivers, but I refuse to let myself care. She’s acting like she’s jealous, I think. But that’s too much to hope for—that she could possibly be jealous. No, I’m imagining it, I’m sure.
The front door opens and Heather, Lindsay and Darla rush in, putting a stop to our conversation. I forgot they all planned on getting ready for Charlotte and Peter’s engagement party over here. Colleen turns away from me and plasters what I know to be a fake smile on her face as she greets everyone. Heather gives Colleen a passing smile and rushes over to me. I smile as best I can and pull her close. She’s wearing the perfume I gave her for her last birthday—the same perfume that Colleen wears. It’s fucked up, I know. I close my eyes, breathing her in.
Heather stretches up and kisses me. I kiss back, but am somewhat hesitant. I feel awkward showing affection in front of Colleen. And after the conversation we just had—I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to kiss a woman comfortably in front of her again. Even if she’s not mine, she’s still my pretty girl.
WE LEAVE MY parents’ house a little after eleven. It’s late and both my girls are drunk. Heather isn’t so bad, but Colleen can’t even walk on her own. I have her thrown over my shoulder. Despite her initial protests, she is giggling and smacking my ass like she’s playing the drums. I want to be annoyed but she is telling Heather how firm my ass is.
“I know, right,” Heather laughs as she hangs onto my left arm. The right one is holding Colleen in place so she doesn’t fall and split her head open. “You should feel his ass during sex, Col,” Heather says. I puff my chest out, because damn, any man would be proud to hear his girlfriend talking about how great he is when he’s fucking her. “His ass is like rock solid. I love to grab it.” Colleen squeezes my ass repeatedly.
“Oh! It is firm!” she shouts and then starts to rub it. I shift her so that she can’t reach it anymore. I’m getting hard with all the patting and touching and spanking, and it’s making carrying her goofy ass just a bit difficult.
We get to the car and I load Colleen in the backseat with the intention of giving Heather the front; but as I make sure all of Colleen’s limbs are inside the vehicle, I see Heather crawl in the other side. Colleen squeals and they hug telling one another that they missed each other. Drunk Colleen is open and funny and silly. She’ll tell you things that sober Colleen never will, which is unfortunate.
“Seriously though,” Heather seems to sober up for a moment. “My Bradley is really sexy and he is such a good lover.” Heather’s voice takes on a dreamy sigh.
“Well,” Colleen snorts, “my Bradley wasn’t very good the one time we tried.”
“Hey!” I interject. “We had both been drinkin’ and you know that. I don’t care how drunk you are, Frasier. That ain’t cool.” Why I feel the need to argue with drunks, I don’t even know. Truth be told, being the first man to ever get it in—even if it was only part way in—with Colleen, will always be something for me to brag about. Even if I can’t remember much because the moment I got past her barrier she freaked out and pushed me off her.