He showed up looking adorable with only an hour left of my birthday celebration. My roommate invited him back to our apartment to continue the festivities. Of course this meant pizza, pizza rolls, and pizza bagels from 7-11 and a homemade quesadilla. I announced to those that returned with us that only he would be allowed to sleep in my bed and, as if a dog reacting to my not-so-subtle commands, he followed me into my room.
“I’ve read your blog.”
“Well, then you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
He stripped down to his boxers and crawled into bed: a non-verbal agreement that he accepted what he was, in fact, getting himself into. Although, looking back, I think it was all just part of his game. He quoted my blog back to me: “I know you wonder what it’s like to kiss guys you know. Do you wonder what it’s like to kiss me?” Lucky for him, I was. He repeatedly questioned my comfort level, seeking permission before doing or touching anything for fear he might “break the rules.” (I let him get away with breaking a few.)
As in most cases, I would have been content letting it end there. My roommate, however, castigated me for succumbing to my baser instincts and insisted that I give this kid a real chance. Two weeks later, he returned. We watched Jersey Shore and discussed his dream of ultimate fighting. I asked him to show me his best moves.
Pinned to the living room floor, it was a scene straight out of a movie that would have me sick to my stomach with jealousy. But in real life, it was too cute, too intimate for someone new. I pushed him off and berated him for the idiocy of ultimate fighting, referencing the Friends episode in which Monica’s boyfriend chases his dream of becoming the ultimate fighting champion. And gets his ass kicked. Shocked that he had no idea what I was talking about, I whipped through my Friends coffee table book until I located the episode and forced him to watch it. A glimpse into our future.
Exhausted and not in the mood to make out with no real end in sight, I turned on another episode. Rachel finds herself in an uncomfortable situation when Chandler continues to tell Rachel’s boss he will call and then doesn’t.
“Have you ever done that? Told a girl you would call and then you just don’t?”
“No. I just don’t say I’ll call.”
No sooner did we fall asleep than I felt his early-morning hands.
“I know what you’re doing. I don’t do morning breath. Give me ten minutes, then I’ll brush my teeth.”
We finished making out and another session of rule-breaking inquiries. I rested my head on his chest.
“So…do you just not touch penises?”
I laughed. Said nothing.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No...but thanks?”
I walked him to the door; we hugged and he gave me a kiss.
“Well, I’ll see you around.”
And he hasn’t called since.
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