Page 55 of Confessions of a Carpool Captive
“I… I can explain. I mean. Well… Umm… I was… oh God.”
He smiles and crosses his arms. “You’re at a loss for words? This must be a great story. Did I sleep through something last night? Because if I did, I will shoot myself.”
“I was... You told me to… and when I did there was… and they scattered and I… thought I…” I can feel the heat in my face.
He laughs deeply, holding his stomach then bending at the waist to catch his breath. Mortified, I want to cry. I rush back into his bedroom and close the door, locking it.
“Liz…” I hear his voice, but I don’t want to ever see him again. I frantically change my clothes.
I hear the toilet flush a few times and the knob turns unsuccessfully on his door.
“Liz, come on. Open up.”
I pull my dress over my head.
“Liz?” he whispers. “Let me in before my parents get suspicious.”
Stopping with a boot in my hand, I sigh and unlock his door. He slides in and closes it behind him.
“I was just messing with you. I’m sure there’s a completely logical explanation.”
“Take me home.”
He makes his way toward me and I lift my hand to stop him. He sighs. “Don’t be angry.”
“I’m not mad. I’m utterly humiliated!”
I try to pull on a boot while standing, lose my balance, and almost topple to floor. Finn reaches out and grabs ahold of me.
Yanking my arm from him, I sit on the bed and start the process over.
He presses his fist to his lips. I gawk.
“It’s not fucking funny, you asshole!”
“It’s probably one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. The look on your face…”
He places his hands at his sides and clamps his lips together.
Covering my face with my hands, I start to cry.
“Hey…” His laughter is replaced with worry. He rushes over to the bed and sits down next to me, putting his arm around me. “I didn’t know you were that upset! Don’t cry.”
He kisses the top of my head and through my sobs I manage to mumble, “You told me to go in your drawers to get clothes and when I pulled out your sweats, your condom stash flew out with it. I mean… you must sleep with a lot of girls to need a box that big. I tried to pick them up, but then you came in and I didn’t want you to know I saw them so when you left, I put them back. But when I went to the bathroom to change, there was one stuck inside the clothes. I didn’t want to explain so I thought I’d just throw it away. But I couldn’t find a garbage can and I panicked. I should have gone downstairs, but I didn’t. So I flushed it. I watched it go down. I thought it went down. I should have double checked. I wish I would have checked. You obviously have a lot of sex and I’m sure you never flush them. The used ones. Obviously not the unused ones. Now your mom thinks I’m an idiot and I know I’m an idiot for thinking there was something… that we were… that I was—”
“They aren’t mine,” he replies.
Glaring up at his obvious lie, he stammers.
“Well I guess they’re mine now, but they were my brother’s and I just brought them with me when I bought the place. I haven’t thought about them since I moved in. Do you honestly think if I used them all the time, I’d keep them in the bottom drawer of my dresser? Wouldn’t I keep them by the bed for quick access?” he asks, motioning toward his nightstand.
“Maybe you have another stash in there.” I sniffle.
“It’s been a long time since I thought about using condoms. Well, up until last night anyway,” he says, sincerely.
Surveying his face, I try to discern if he’s lying or not. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
He squats down in front of me. “Your story makes complete and total sense. You’re amazingly sweet for not calling me out last night and embarrassing me.”
