Page 21 of Falling for Roxanne

“I have,” she said.

“What?” I demanded. “Spill the details!”

“Okay, well I went out with Rob, remember?”

“Rob from our Intellectual Property Law class? With the glasses?”

“Yeah. The glasses are hot,” she said, a little smile playing on her lips.

“No way. You’re with Rob?”

“’With him’ is a little more official than I’d say we are right now.”

“Have you defined the relationship?”

“We’ve been together for like ten days,” she said wryly, “it’s too soon to have that talk.”

“Ten days? I didn’t know until just now? What the hell?” I exclaimed.

“We’ve both been busy with classes, and you’ve been at the law firm like every minute you’re not on campus or doing homework,” she said. “I’m not complaining because this is a great opportunity for you. I just miss you. We spent a lot more time together before you got this internship. And I think it was the space I needed to go try to find someone. Because when I was watching movies with you all the time, I had someone to talk to and laugh with and what did I need a guy for? Besides sex obviously. But the point is, I depended on you too much for, like, companionship. I got lonely and when Rob asked me out, I thought, what the hell, it’s that or sit around watching some baking show by myself again.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you. You’re my best friend and I never want you to feel like you’re not important to me. You are! I’ve been putting in more hours at the firm than I’m supposed to under the internship because of this big appeal we’re working on. But I can cut back on those hours, they’re voluntary,” I insisted.

“You don’t need to. This case is important to you, and the overtime you’re giving that law firm is bound to look good on your job applications in a few months. You’re building a foundation for your career, Rox. I don’t begrudge you that. Plus, now I’m hooking up with Rob, so I’m not bored anymore. I definitely want to hang out when you have time, but the point is, pressure’s off. We’re all good, right?”

“Yeah, I just feel bad that I didn’t really know what was going on in your life.”

“I’m a big girl, babe. I can take care of myself. You weren’t inconsiderate at all. Don’t go thinking that. Besides, we’re out and about now, and I can catch you up on all the tea.”

“What’s the tea?”

“He’s pretty sweet, and like the first time we went out, he asked me to text him and let him know I got home okay. That really stopped me in my tracks because it was caring, not just like he wanted in my pants. Which, let’s be honest, he could’ve got in my pants on the first date if he’d tried. He just went in for the kiss and then backed off, asked if he could call me and we could see each other again. I swear, it was like a movie. He didn’t even try and grab a boob. Strictly first base, like we were fourteen years old.”

She was blushing a little and I wanted to hug her. It was so cute.

“How many times have you gone out?” I asked. “Come on, catch me up!”

“Okay, we’ve been out for drinks and coffee and lunch and then once to dinner, so that’s four dates, plus I went to his apartment, met his roommate, and we played poker and then his roommate went and stayed at his girlfriend’s place so we could be alone.”

“Oh, was that the first time you were—together?” I asked.

She nodded, “Yeah. It was—at the risk of sounding cheesy, it was pretty special. He had lit some little candles and I could tell the sheets were clean and smelled like Snuggle. First time with him, and he goes down on me. Not even as an afterthought when he was done or something. Just straight up gives me oral. Not for like two minutes and says he’s tired either. I’m kind of used to the college guys that come after three pumps and go, ‘oh that was amazing’ and then want to go play Call of Duty or some shit. But he wasn’t like that, and it was so good.”

“So what you’re saying is you’re used to men who are total crap in bed,” I said. “I know the feeling. If I’m honest, I’ve only slept with three guys, but the thing is, I’ve never come with them. The pressure is too much, and it takes me too long. I just—act like I did or like it’s fine.”

“Oh honey, never do that. Don’t let them get away with that. They’re selfish enough as it is. Make sure you get yours!” she said. “How come I never knew you were a faker?”

“It’s just easier. I get stressed out, and I know the guy is getting tired of it or bored and wants to go watch TV or something. So I put us both out of our misery that way,” I said.

“That is some old-fashioned bullshit you have going on, girl,” she said. “Don’t you let me find out you keep that up. I mean next guy you fuck, you better make sure you get yours or I’m gonna leave him some anonymous voicemails that you fake it because he got a tiny dick,” she crowed with laughter.

“Please don’t say tiny dick so loud!” I hissed in a whisper.

“Should I say big dick instead? Big dick!” she said loudly.

“Stop!” I told her, taking a sip of my margarita. “Ugh, what is this?”

“It’s on special. It’s banana and blue raspberry.”

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