Page 31 of Something Borrowed, Something You

Nine hours on a bus that smelled like urine. Happy birthday to me.

The last time I made the trip from Berkeley to UCLA, I’d been fucking miserable. The air-conditioning had been crap during one of the worst heat waves to hit Southern California in a decade. A month later, summer’s heat had cooled into fall, so at least the temperature wasn’t making the already bad smell into pungent hot piss. Still, next time I needed to get to the terminal earlier so I didn’t get stuck sitting next to the nasty bathroom.

The only good thing about this trip was that the seat next to me was empty. And I’d fully taken advantage, spreading my charcoal pencils and sketchpads all over the place. I was shading the angles of a drawing due Monday for my structural design class when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I smiled before even digging it out, knowing it was her.

The season might have cooled, but things were just getting heated with my very own Summer. After spending hours in the fountain together the afternoon we met, she’d had to take off—her parents were picking her up for a weekend back down in San Diego where they lived. We’d exchanged numbers, and I’d wound up texting her at two in the morning that night after having a few too many beers with my brother and his friends. Even my drunken texts that rambled on about how gorgeous she was didn’t scare her away. Over the next six weeks, we texted or talked a few times a day, yapping about all sorts of shit that I didn’t normally talk about. But recently, as my visit neared, our texts had taken a hot and heavy turn. We’d gone from talking about her stepfather being an asshole, my mom’s death, and our plans for the future, to what we wanted to do to each other when we were together again.

I typed in my password, and her new text popped up.

Summer: Truth or dare?

I smiled. Considering I was sitting on a bus, there wasn’t much of a choice. Plus, it seemed to be our thing. I always picked truth. Summer always picked dare.

Hunter: Truth.

Summer: Hmm… Okay. Let me think of something good.

A few minutes later another text arrived.

Summer: What’s the grossest thing you’ve ever done with a girl?

I knew the answer without even needing to ponder, although I wasn’t sure she’d like to hear it. I typed back.

Hunter: Are you sure you want the truth on this one? What if it grosses you out?

Summer: Now I’m totally intrigued and need to know…

I chuckled. Okay, you asked for it.

Hunter: I sucked a girl’s toes once. I should add that she’d just gotten out of the shower, so they were clean.

Summer: Is that something you’re into?

Hunter: Not at all.

Summer: You just wanted to try it?

Hunter: No. She asked me to.

Summer: Hmm …

What did that mean? Hmm…

Hunter: Did I gross you out?

Summer: Not at all. Just the opposite. I think it’s sexy that you’ll do something you aren’t into just to please your partner.

I wanted to demonstrate my dedication to pleasing her in the worst way.

Hunter: Your turn. Truth or Dare?

She typed back immediately.

Summer: Dare.

I knew what I wanted. Hell, I had a stiff one growing in my pants from just the thought of what I wanted to dare her to do. But I didn’t want to be a dick and type send me a skin shot. So I went light, tossing the ball in her corner.

Hunter: Send me a sexy pic.

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