Page 52 of Rewrite the Rules

I am winning at life right now.

* * *

The F-Buddy Rules for Survival

Rule Number 1:The condom rule.Wrap it up before you get wrapped up. No exceptions.

Rule Number 2:The gift rule.Do not give each other gifts. Also, do not ever give someone else a gift that is from both you and your F-Buddy.

Rule Number 3:The baby rule.No baby talk, no making babies, no buying baby animals. No calling each other baby. When in doubt—no baby anything.

Rule Number 4:The PDA rule. It’s simple. Stay away from PDA. No “official” dates.

Rule Number 5:The faking rule.It’s no fun if it’s only fun for one. No faking orgasms. Ever!

Rule Number 6:The tidy-up rule.Do not leave any of your shit around his place. Do not make space for his toothbrush in your bathroom.

Rule Number 7:The sleepover rule.Never sleep over. Always be the one to leave first, even if it’s from your own place. Fake a brunch, fake a hair appointment, whatever you need to do to prove that you have no expectations of cuddling.

Rule Number 8:The friend rule.No Venn diagrams! Keep your life and friendship circles as separate as you can.

Rule Number 9:The expiration rule.F-Buddying is temporary. There’s a looming expiration date. Accept that. Seriously—accept that.

Rule Number 10(special Addie inclusion):Never mention to Joel that you’re a virgin. It’s more commitment than he can handle and frankly, none of his damn business.

* * *

Tessa slides my new commandments into my purse so I don’t leave them behind when I check out tomorrow. It doesn’t matter though, I’m so drunk, I can’t check out. There’s no way I’m sobering up in this lifetime. I live in this hotel now—forever. On this bed.

Thump.

Whoops, I mean on this floor.

“Wait, wait, Adderr,” Tessa slurs. “There’s jusss one more thing. His thingy.”

“Whaaa?” I squint one eye and suck in a deep breath then blow it out as if I can exhale the inebriation away.

“Histhingy. You gotta see what kinda ’quipment you’re workin’ with cuz you’re so squeaky new. Give me your phone.”

It’s probably not my wisest decision, but due to my current impairment I don’t think twice about unlocking my phone and blindly handing it over to Tessa.

“Name’s Joe, right?”

“Joel.”

“Found ’im.” Tessa starts typing furiously at my phone.

I lose track of time as the room spins.Or I spin. I’m not sure.I’m in a drunken vortex of trippy kaleidoscope colors and numbing tingles that trace up and down my body. The sound of crashing and cresting waves—of beer—in my mind are only interrupted with the occasionalswoopsof sent and received text messages. I drift into the malty tide as tomorrow’s epic hangover brews.

Tessa slides my phone across the floor.

“I scroll’d up. Start at the ’ginning,” she instructs as she chuckles.

Oh no. What did you do, Tess?I read the conversation that Joel thinksIjust had with him.

Me:If we’re going to do this, I need to see what you’re packing first.

Oh, shit.

---