Page 63 of Surprisingly Us

I wonder if she’s a virgin.

As we walk through the grocery aisles, Lettie randomly stops to place items into the cart I’m pushing. It’s very domestic. Ramsey would cackle if he saw me right now. I’m almost tempted to take a photo to prove that I do know where food comes from and how to obtain it.

Lettie sets a bag of trail mix in the cart.

I pick it up to study the contents.

“I thought you said you didn’t eat candy.”

“It’s not candy. It’s trail mix.”

“With candy in it.” I verify the ingredients and to my absolute horror, she’s right, there is some fake chocolate substitute trying to pass as a beloved candy. “You gave up the delicious goodness of Reese’s Pieces for generic candy pieces?” I ask.

She laughs. “I had no idea you’d be so passionate about it.”

“And this bag is full of raisins. You hate raisins.”

She blinks, staring up at me with surprise. “How do you remember that?”

I shrug. “I remember a lot of things.” A memory surfaces, causing a smile to pull at my lips. “Like how Hunter and I convinced you and Hannah that raisins were shriveled up squirrel nut sacks.”

A laugh bursts from her as we turn the aisle into the produce section.

“That was disturbing on many levels, but it’s not the only reason I don’t like them. They get stuck in my teeth. I don’t like most dried fruit for that reason.”

The raisin discussion only sidetracks my brain for a moment, then it’s right back to thinking about Lettie and sex.

On one hand, I really shouldn’t push her on it. It’s her personal business.

But we’re friends and if it helps our relationship be more convincing, I think we should talk about these things. Also, now I’m beyond curious if Lettie is a virgin. I shouldn’t care, I shouldn’t have thoughts about it, but now that my brain has gotten hold of it, it’s impossible to think of anything else.

I decide if I’m going to ask her, I’ve got to come out and ask. Leading into things with Lettie only gives her more time tooverthink and panic. I’m going to rip this off just like I used to do for her band-aids that got too sticky when we were kids.

We sidle up to the fruit section where Lettie starts inspecting the apples.

“You’ve had sex, right?” I ask.

At my completely random topic change, Lettie’s already erect back stiffens. “We’re in the middle of a grocery store,” she whisper-hisses. “And what does that have to do with anything?”

That’s a good question. Nothing, really, except my own curiosity.

I raise my hands in surrender. “Nothing.”

We move to the other side of the produce case in silence, me following her as she selects a red bell pepper, the topic clearly dropped.

Or is it? My mind was already running wild and now that the question is out there, I’m even more curious.

Is Lettie a virgin?

Has she given head before?

I wonder if she’s had an orgasm?

Lettie suddenly whips around to face me.

“I’ve had an orgasm before!” she shouts as if in response to the question I didn’t ask out loud.

The woman shopping with her toddler in the cart on the other side of the produce case opens her mouth in shock, looking between us before promptly rushing away.

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