“I’m just saying, before you moved in, your brother used to swing his junk all over the place. I’m pretty sure he didn’t believe in clothes.”
She cringes. “Ew. I did not need to know that about my brother. All I’m saying is, just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean you can’t tell me things you would otherwise say to any other male roommate. It’s not like you haven’t heard about my vagina. I don’t keep anything from you.”
She’s right. I know all about her periods, when they come and when they go, and she even told me once about a pussy shaving experience gone horribly wrong, causing her to not want to wear pants for a month while it healed. Poor girl. Her best friend, April talked her into trying a wax after that and now she goes faithfully every six weeks.
“Alright then.” I pick up another shot of vodka and fruit punch and toss it back. “If that’s how you want it, from now on I’ll be sure to tell you when my balls are particularly itchy or when I take an abnormally huge shit or that I jacked off twice in the shower tonight just to feel something other than the crippling sadness I’ve been struggling with all day at the thought of losing my dad.”
I stand up to throw away my now empty take-out container and the room spins slightly.
Whoa.
Way too many shots.
Eventually I make it to the trash can where I toss my garbage and when I turn back toward the couch, Emily is gawking at me. Her petite pink lips forming a perfect O shape.
“What?” I gaze around the room quickly and then down at myself wondering why she’s giving me that look. “Did I spill something?”
“Is that really what you were doing…earlier? In the shower?”
“What was I doing?”
Her brows pinch momentarily and then she shakes her head. “Oh, uh. Nothing. I thought you just said…something.”
“Oh fuck. I said those words out loud? I really thought they were just in my head.”
“It’s fine,” she says, shaking her head like it’s no big deal. But it is a big deal. “I just didn’t—”
“Shit. See what I mean? I just told you something I would never just say out loud…probably not even to another guy, and I made it awkward. I’m sorry, Em.”
She springs up from the couch and rushes over to me. “No, no, no, no, no. Nothing about what you said was awkward unless we make it awkward. Guys masturbate all the time. Hell, girls masturbate all the time too.”
My brows shoot up. “You do?”
Her cheeks pinken and she picks at her nails. “Of course. I haven’t been on a date in weeks. My bedside drawer is filled with vibrators, but that’s not the point.”
It might not be the point, but I just got a very clear mental picture of my roommate with her hand between her legs and it’s making me think all kinds of weird thoughts.
I blame the vodka.
“The point is,” she continues. “That you were being honest. And right now, you’re hurting. You’re grieving an inevitable loss and that’s okay. And it’s okay to want to feel something else instead of feeling sad.”
I don’t even have anything to say about that because I’m still picturing her masturbating in her bedroom and wondering why I’ve never thought about the fact that she probably gets herself off at night or in the morning while I’m in the very next room.
“I mean…if you think about it, heartache from grief can cause health problems like increased blood pressure or even blood clots, but masturbation helps calm the brain so it’s a perfectly normal activity, and if it makes you feel better for even just a few minutes...”
Swallowing the knot in my throat I lock eyes with Emily. “Are you seriously defending my ridiculous behavior with random facts about sexual health?”
She holds my stare for a few long seconds and then shrugs with a small grin. “Of course. I mean, a fact is a fact. There’s nothing to feel ashamed or embarrassed about.”
“How did I get so lucky to have you in my life?”
“I guess you have my brother to thank. It was his idea.”
Emily’s brother, Wes, is a frat brother of mine from college. We were relatively good friends and even roommates for a couple years so when we graduated and both found jobs in Louisville, we decided to find an apartment together so we could share rent and make living in the city a little more affordable. Two years ago, Eric accepted a promotion that meant moving to Georgia, so he used some of his moving bonus to pay his share of the rent for the remainder of the year with the understanding that his little sister, Emily would be able to move in when she graduated. Affordable apartments are few and far between for young people just starting out.
The idea of living with Wes’s little sister wasn’t something that excited me. Since she went to college with us and hung around a lot, we knew each other so that was a plus. Sharing a living space with her beat sharing an apartment with some prick of a guy I wouldn’t know.
When she moved in, Emily and I set some ground rules, and by ground rules I mean ridiculous rules that, even to this day, I shake my head at. She thinks they’re fun, so I go along with it, and our roommate relationship has been pretty cool ever since.