Page 7 of My Best Friend's Sister

“Because you’re innocent, and you’re too good for that shit.”

She snorts and shakes her head. “Yeah, that’s the problem,” she mumbles under her breath, but I hear every word.

“What?”

“There’s this guy in my class…” she trails off. “Kennedy Burke.”

I snort at the pretentious name, and I wonder just how many generations have had it. “Sounds like a third.”

“A fourth,” she corrects.

“Of course. So, tell me about Master Kennedy.”

“He’s really charming and very good looking… Very smart.” She traces the rim of her glass while a somewhat dream-like gaze crosses her face as if she’s fantasizing about him. After a few moments, she focuses back on me. “He’s asked me out a few times.” She shrugs. “But I keep saying no.”

“Why?”

“It’s the chase. He’s slept with five girls from our class already. Once I go out with him… he’ll get bored.” She sighs. “They always get bored,” she says more to herself than to me. “And then he’ll move on.”

“Bored? With you?”How? She’s easily the most interesting woman I’ve ever talked to. Hell, she might be the most interesting person, male or female.

“When I don’t… put… out…” She bites her lip, and I can tell she’s very uncomfortable by this conversation.

So, she’s definitely not doing the casual sex thing. Good for you, Ava.

“The pseudo big brother in me is very proud of you, Ava. You shouldn’t just be sleeping around.”

“But I like him.”

“The Kennedy.”

“Can you not put ‘the’ in front of his name? It makes him sound like a prick.”

“He probably is.”

“Is not! I’m going back and forth with whether or not I should, you know…,” she tells me. “Part of me thinks it’s a terrible idea, but… he’s really cute.”

“Because that’s a reason.” I roll my eyes.

“You’ve slept with woman over a lot less, I’m sure.” She narrows her eyes at me, and I can’t argue with her. I chuckle, not knowing how to respond to that when she continues. “So how does it work?” she asks, and I look at her curiously, needing more clarification. “The casual sex thing? You just take them home and then it’s ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am; I’ll call you an Uber?’”

“Sometimes there’s more. You wound me, Ava.”

“Aren’t you too old for this?”

“For sex? No, Ava. I am not too old for sex,” I say sardonically.

“No, casual sex. Isn’t that like college and one-year post college bullshit?”

“I don’t think you can put an age on wanting to feel good; don’t be so judgmental.”

She shrugs. “I guess you’re sowing your wild oats and whatnot. When are you going to settle down and get married, anyway?” The waiter brings the check and slides it in front of me. I hand him my credit card without looking at the bill.

“Okay, Mother. Can you not?” I chuckle.

She takes a deep breath and blows it out. “Okay, if I tell you something, will you promise not to laugh?”

“Depends on if it’s funny.”

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