Page 23 of Run, Run, Roommates
“Is this”—I mimic her hand gesture—“kissing your roommate? Or is it . . .” I give her a skeptical look. “Kissing in general?”
When I stare at her, Brin gives a nervous laugh. “Kissing in general.”
“Have you?—”
We both talk at the same time. I say, “Had sex?” and she says, “Yeah.”
Then we do it again, this time with me saying, “Oh, okay” and her saying, “Oh wait. Sex? No.”
“Hang on.” I put a hand up to stop us from talking over each other. “Are you a virgin?”
“Well, not in the sense of like . . .” She makes a hand gesture that clearly means penetration.
Surprisingly, I get what she’s not saying. “Sorry,” I say, rubbing my jaw. “Virgin probably isn’t the best word. The patriarchy is weird about what defines virginity and really limits it to the heterosexuals, anyway. There’s a lot of great sex that’s not ‘sex.’”
She laughs.
Plus, Brin’s got that toy in the nightstand, one that definitely looks like its main function is penetration.
What exactly do you say to someone who’s told you they’ve never had sex before? Especially right after you’ve kissed them?
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” I say. “You’re right, it’s probably not the best idea. Because we live together. And I really like living with you.”
I can tell Brin’s cheeks are flushed, even in the dark, but at least now it’s more from the flattery than embarrassment.
I take a step back and pull my phone out of the pocket. I’d almost forgotten that it had buzzed. The screen is bright in the dark night and there’s a new notice in the server.
@everyone: The next burst challenge is this: The shortest day of the year is tomorrow. Honor the solstice by taking a picture of both team members watching the sunrise. Upload it by eight am.
There’s more information, and I read the whole thing out loud to Brin.
“What time is sunrise?” she asks after I’m done.
I google it. “A little after seven. It would mean a really early morning after you work close tonight.”
“How many points is it worth?”
“Three.”
Brin makes her thinking face. I’m glad we have something to distract us from that kiss. Having a practical problem to figure out is much better than worrying over whether I completely fucked things up with Brin. “That means I would get like . . . four hours of sleep?”
“Plus we have to get somewhere where we can actually see the sunrise.”
“We could take the ferry? Or Pier 17?”
“Yeah . . . or we can go up to William’s penthouse.”
Brin wrinkles her nose. “We can do that?”
I shrug. “Sure. He’s not home.”
Her eyes widen and she puts a hand to her forehead dramatically. “You’ll spoil me. What if I become accustomed to a life of penthouse suites and sunrise views?”
This is better. We kissed, it was dumb, we moved on. Something inside me unwinds. I don’t have to worry about being yet another person who’s taken advantage of Brin.
“We’ll have to move to a place with a better view,” I banter back.
“Ha. Like that’ll happen.” Brin turns and starts walking in the direction of the subway. “Okay, I guess I’m in. You’re responsible for setting the alarm and bringing me coffee though.”
