"The purpose?" he asks, and I take a breath to prepare myself.
"I'm going there to get laid. Having you around as my wingman doesn't really work, since all the men would think they would have to compete with you."
"That's crazy. We're just friends. We don't give off a couple vibe," he says carelessly, and has no idea how much that hurts my feelings.
"Yeah, you're probably right," I agree, ignoring the pain in my gut as I admit that out loud. "Still, I'm going this one solo."
"I don't like the idea of you having a random hookup. That's not who you are, Buttercup. Hell, you didn't sleep with Crenshaw for half a damn year."
"I should have made him wait longer."
"You should have made him wait, period."
"There's no arguing with that.”
"You're not a random-hookup kind of girl, honey."
“How do you know?”
"I've had those girls. Those girls are not you."
"I've decided to be that kind of girl," I tell him, getting up from the floor and walking to the kitchen. There's no movie watching with this conversation, anyway.
"What the fuck for?" he barks, following me like a dog with a freaking bone. Leaving me to wish again that I hadn’t opened my mouth around him at all.
"Because I need sex."
He stops walking and it might be my imagination, but he seems a little white—and I'm talking color, not his name here.
"Okay, this conversation suddenly got weird."
"You wouldn't let it go. So there you are. Can we drop it now?"
"You just broke up with Tommy and before that it was Crenshaw. I mean not to get all up in your business or anything—"
"What's to stop you, now?" I sigh.
"Well, it's just that. I mean, that's not that long of a time to go without."
"God, you and your double standards. You've had sex with three girls all in the same day before."
"Weekend technically, which is two days. And that's different."
"If you tell me it's different because you're a man, I will bash you over the head with this skillet, White Hall Lucas," I growl, rinsing the skillet off to put it in the dishwasher.
"Kay—"
"Besides, I didn't have sex with Tommy, not that it should be any of your business. And Bobby either, after about a month. It wasn't that great, which I guess is the real reason we broke up."
"How the fuck do you get engaged to someone and never sleep with them?"
"I know this is hard for you to understand, but some people can have relationships without sex being involved right out of the gate."
"No one I know, but let’s forget all this for a minute. What's the all-fired hurry to have sex if you've gone this long without it? I don't think I'm following."
"I want to get pregnant."
"Oh," he says, his face completely confused, and then my words must hit him because he blinks. Then he blinks again. "You what?"
"I want to get pregnant."
"I don't think I'm following. No. Scratch that. I pray to God I'm not following. Are you telling me you're going to a bar to have a random hook-up with some guy you don't know, all to get knocked up?"
I wince at the way he describes it. But, since that's exactly what I'm planning, I don't shy away from it. "That'd be correct."
"That'd be correct," he whispers, like he can't believe it. "That'd be correct," he says again, but he's looking down at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck so I can't really see what's on his face, or even guess what he's thinking. That doesn't last for long though because when he looks up, I have to be thankful there's a bar between us. "Are you out of your fucking mind, Kayla?" he yells. And, just so we're clear, when I say he yells, it's not just a little yell. This is the kind of yell you can hear across a crowded room. A very noisy, crowded room.
"I want a child, White," I remind him, refusing to feel guilty.
"There's other ways here, Kayla. Jesus."
"Name one!"
"Adoption."
"Yeah I told you how that meeting went."
"Then there's artificial insemination. I've read about that."
"Yeah, I have too and there's no way I have the kind of money that would take either."
"I'll loan it to you!"
"No way. Absolutely not. You're not giving me money so I can get pregnant."
"Oh, I see. You won't take money from me, your best friend, to get pregnant, but you will hook up with some random fucker at a bar."
"Exactly."
"I guess I should just volunteer to give you my dick. That way, no money is involved, and you will at least know I won't give you a disease that will threaten your fucking life!"