Page 114 of The Play

I balk. “But I hardly know them.”

Pippa snorts. “You are the most sheltered college woman on the planet. It’s okay to fool around with guys you haven’t known since you were eight years old, D.”

I stick out my tongue at her.

“I’m serious. You’re allowed to experiment. For all you know, you were having the worst sex of your life with Nico, only you thought it was mind-blowing because you didn’t know any better. Let yourself know better.”

“Nico and I had good sex.” I pause. “Well, aside from the subpar oral.” Because who am I kidding? It was never even close to par. “But I never really saw the appeal, anyway. With oral, I could take it or leave it.”

“But that’s the most important part!” Brenna says in outrage.

“If I do end up with Hunter tonight, should I be worried about…um…you know, sexually transmitted diseases?” TJ’s warning continues to lurk in the back of my head like a cat burglar.

“As in, does Hunter have one?” Brenna thinks it over. “Nobody’s ever said anything to me about that, but obviously I can’t know for sure.” She wrinkles her forehead at me. “But that’s why you have the conversation before the clothes come off.”

“The conversation?”

“Disclosure,” she explains. “Diseases, birth control, any weird kinks you want to disclose. Like, if a guy has a foot fetish, I need to know about that shit up front so I don’t throw up on him.”

Pippa breaks out laughing. “Oh God, that’s a great point. All foot fetishes must be disclosed prior to sexual relations. And don’t even get me started on the guy in sophomore year who wanted me to pee on him.”

I resist the urge to bury my face in my hands and moan in despair. I am so out of my element here. I’ve only slept with one person. Ilost my virginity to him, and we were in a long-term relationship for years. There was never any need to have “the conversation.”

And I never, ever had to wonder if hewanted me to pee on him.

I never thought of myself as naïve or inexperienced. I thought I was a ballsy, smart-talking chick from Miami who owned her body and her sexuality. But maybe it’s time to grow up a little. Idoneed to think about things like STIs and new partners.

And if everything goes my way tonight, that new partner is going to be Hunter Davenport.

26

DEMI

THE AFTER PARTY IS HELD ATCONOR’S HOUSE.IKNOWfrom my last visit that he’s got four roommates and they’re all hockey players. In fact, most of the male bodies in the townhouse tonight belong to hockey players, which means there isn’t much space to maneuver. I’m talking muscles galore.

A crappy EDM song blasts in the air, making my temples throb. Never been a fan of electronic dance music. Nico and I attended a couple of raves in Miami, but it wasn’t my thing. When we were there, he tried to convince me to do MDMA, and I said hell no, which surprised most of his friends.

It’s funny, but people expect me to be more reckless than I actually am. I mean, I’ll dance at the drop of a hat, no matter where I am. I’ll talk to strangers in the CVS checkout line. And sure, if someone asked me to go skydiving or bungee jumping I’d consider it. But I’ve never cared for the drug scene or the kind of dangerous activities our Miami friends were into. Whenever I visited, Nico spent a lot of time racing cars. Illegally, of course, which meant I was looking over my shoulder the entire time waiting for the cops to show up.

So no, recklessness isn’t a trait I usually possess. But I’m going to be reckless tonight. I’m going to tease my friend and hopefully convince him to break his vow. I guess that probably makes me a jerk, but a part of me wonders if Hunter is overcompensating forsomething. Last year he acted in a self-destructive manner, hooking up with random girls, drinking too much. But I don’t believe that’s inherently his nature. I think he was simply reeling from Summer’s rejection and the perceived betrayal from his friend.

If you ask me, sex isn’t the reason his hockey season imploded last year, nor do I think thelackof it is responsible for the team’s success this year.

I’m starting to believe it’s a matter of trust. As in, he doesn’t trust himself to make good decisions in the moment. But I don’t think avoiding any situations that require difficult decision-making is the solution.

My gaze drifts in Hunter’s direction. He’s across the living room, deep in conversation with Matt Anderson. Meanwhile, I’m in the corner like a loser, sucking on one of the many lollipops stashed at all times in my purse. Hunter left me to my own devices once we got here, but this isn’t my crowd and I don’t miss all the dirty looks I’m receiving from the hockey groupies, as if I’m trespassing on their property.

I don’t particularly understand the sports groupie mentality. The fact that they make it seem like I’m trying tostealsomething from them tells me that they don’t care about the men they’re coveting, only the status those men bring to the table. I look at Hunter and see Hunter. They look at him and see HOCKEY PLAYER.

“What’s the matter? Not having fun?” Conor wanders over and joins me in the doorway.

It’s impossible to look at Conor without noticing how incredibly attractive he is. He sort of resembles Hunter’s friend Dean, except in a surfer-dude way whereas Dean should be posing in cologne ads or underwear spreads.

“Eh, I just don’t know anyone.” I shrug, absently twirling the stick of my lollipop between my thumb and index finger.

“You knowme.” He flashes a crooked grin.

“True.”

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