Neanderthal Seeks Human(44)

“Not at this moment.”

I pursed my lips and tried my very best to give him a withering glare. He responded by mirroring me, the only difference was that his stare really was withering and would have been quite effective if he hadn’t also been suppressing a smile.

It wasn’t my finest moment but I rolled my eyes and actually huffed, “Fine, don’t answer. I don’t even know why I asked.”

“No. No I am not having sex with anyone.”

“Oh.” I shrugged non-committedly but for some reason his response filled me with, literally, glee. It was like a unicorn appeared beneath a double rainbow and started tap dancing. Despite my best efforts to maintain a neutral expression I could feel my mouth curve into a mutinous grin.

Quinn tilted his head to the side as though studying me, my reaction to his statement. Then he said, “Now it’s your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Yes, how many people have you had sex with?”

It was my turn: my turn to be shocked.

My jaw dropped but no sound came out for several seconds; my mind stopped and at one point I was uncertain if I’d heard him correctly. When I finally spoke my voice sounded like a squeak, “Could you repeat the question?”

He laughed and took a step closer to me, “You heard me the first time.”

“That’s not any of your business.” I took a step back.

“Oh no, you asked me-”

“You asked me first-”

He crossed his arms over his chest, “No, I didn’t. You volunteered.”

“You asked me if I was still dating-”

“But you’re the one who brought up sex.”

I opened my mouth to argue but then realized he was right. I considered the question as I glared at him. I wondered if he would reciprocate if I answered. But, I didn’t want to answer because Jon was the only guy I’d been with. I didn’t know how to feel about that, how normal or abnormal it made me to be a twenty-six year old woman with one sexual partner. And I didn’t want to give Quinn more ammunition for additional ambiguous teasing.

“Fine.” I started chewing on my lip, stalling, hoping that we’d be interrupted again by one of the managers or by a bear attack or earthquake or giant snakes.

When I waited too long he prompted, “Well?”

“So, slept with- right?”

“No, the question was: how many people have you had sex with?”

“Are we using the Bill Clinton definition?” Not that it would have mattered.

“No, the Hillary Clinton definition of sex.”

“Ok, stop saying the word ‘sex’!” I glanced around the room looking for something to save me from this conversation. I didn’t even know how we got here.

“Well?”

“So, how does this work? If I tell you will you have to tell me?”

Quinn shook his head, “Not unless you ask, in which case I get to ask you another question.” he really looked like he was enjoying himself. He was merciless.

“What would your next question be?”

“Janie, stop stalling and answer the question-”

“Fine, fine, one- ok? One person and, to be honest, I don’t even know what the big deal is. If you ask me, we- as a society- really do make way too much out of it. It’s like we want to glorify the process of procreation. You have these authors like Byron who make physical familiarity out to be some amazing, soul-consuming, meaning of life, end of the world thing and it’s not like that. It’s-” I waved my free hand in the air, trying to find the right words, “It’s like having someone else pick your nose or floss your teeth. It requires a lot of coordination and planning- for instance you can’t do it unless you’ve had a shower within so many hours ahead of time. If you fall out of that time-window then you have to stop reading comics- or whatever you’re currently doing- go take a shower, dry off, get dressed, blah blah blah. What a hassle. I think bacteria have the right idea; humans should procreate via binary fission.”

I was sure my shirt and my face were the same color red. I hazarded a glance at him again through my lashes to find him watching me with no trace of his earlier amusement. I couldn’t read his expression which only served to further unsettle me. I turned completely away from Quinn and started walking toward the door; the single knot in my stomach had turned into a million man march of knots and I couldn’t quite bring myself to look at him anymore.

“I need to find a phone. I’ll be back.” I left my notepad on a high-top table and continued toward the exit.

I heard him take a step behind me, “Where is your phone?”

I waved him off, walking faster, “I left it at the office.”