“No,” she said, giggling, “unless he’s a billionaire, maybe.”
“Even if he was a billionaire, I wouldn’t. I could get a fucking A-list Hollywood star if I really wanted to be with someone rich.”
“True,” she said. “So, who was the dude? And how old was he?”
“He is a little older than us. He’s not in college,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “But he’s fucking hot, and he’s the best sex of my life, okay? And Brian’s just jealous because he wanted me to sit on his face and I told him no.”
“Oh, wow!” Anne said. I could tell I’d shocked her. “He certainly didn’t say that part.”
“Of course not. I’m sure he also didn’t say that his penis was the size of my pinky finger.”
“Oh, no!” Anne started giggling. “Is he really that small?”
“No,” I said laughing, “but I’ll tell the world that he was, and you know everyone would listen to me.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Wow, he’s such a douchebag.”
“He really is. And the only reason my man went to speak to him is because he kept trying to force something to happen when I told him no, and then he called me a slut, and my man was on the phone and heard. And because my man is protective of me, he decided to come to the party and let Brian know that he needed to fuck off, or he would beat the shit out of him.”
“Wow,” Ann said. “Your man sounds awesome. Is your man The Rock?”
“No. Ann, I’m not dating The Rock.”
“That would be so cool if you were dating The Rock. He’s so muscular and so handsome…”
“And he’s married with kids.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that. Is your man Ben Affleck?”
“Girl, isn’t he engaged to Jennifer Lopez or something?”
“Oh yeah,” she said, giggling. “Sorry, but when you said A-list star, I wondered—”
“No. I said I could be with an A-list star if I wanted to be. My man is not an A-list star.” I bit my lower lip. I wasn’t sure why I was calling Sam “my man” because he wasn’t. He was more like a fuck buddy, but “my man” sounded better.
“Wow. So, are we going to meet him?” Ann asked.
“I don’t know. It’s not anything serious, you know? I’m young. I’m having fun. I don’t even know what I’m doing in my life. I might be moving soon.”
“Oh? Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. New York, LA, London, Paris, Milan, wherever I want. Once I graduate, I can do whatever I want.”
“Yeah. You’re lucky you have lots of options. And you’re so pretty that you can get any job.”
“Exactly,” I said, though I knew that wasn’t true. Being pretty wasn’t going to get me a job in an accounting firm or at a law firm. Being pretty wasn’t going to get me into a brokerage, but being pretty might get me into a couple of Z-list movies if that was the way I really wanted to go, which it wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to say that to Ann. She looked up to me and, well, I needed that. I needed people who made me feel better about myself than I did, especially now that I was feeling quite low about the whole sad situation.
“So is he really good in bed then? Do you guys do really crazy stuff?” Ann asked eagerly.
“What do you mean by crazy, Anne? I mean, do we have hot sex? Yes. Is it most probably hotter than the sex you have? Yes. But what can I say? You’ve only been with college guys. I’m with a real man, a man that knows how to work every part of his body to please me.”
“Wow,” she said. “Maybe I should get with a real man too. I mean, I could. There was this guy that asked me to go for a drink…” she said thoughtfully.
“So why don’t you give it a shot, then?”
“He is really cute,” she said, “but…”
“But what, Ann? We are adults now. We can’t be with little boys.”
“I mean yeah, that’s true. But…”
“But what?”
“He’s my Italian professor.”
“Holy shit!” Ann had shocked me. “As in, Italian professor that you just know randomly or as in, your professor at college who’s Italian?”
“He’s not Italian. He’s American and he teaches Italian. I’m in his class.”
“Oh, shit. Your professor asked you out, Ann” I had not expected that.
“Yeah, but…”
“But what?”
“I just don’t know what to do. I mean, I don’t want to get in one of those situations where I’m fucking him for an A.”
“Yeah, you definitely don’t want to do that. I mean, maybe get into a situation where it’s not as complicated.” I chuckled to myself as I said that. I was the last one to talk about getting into situations that weren’t as complicated.
“So can I ask you something? Please, Shelby?” she asked me softly.
“Yes, you can ask me anything.”
“Have you ever…” She paused.
“What?”
“Have you ever done anal?”
“What?” I looked around to make sure that no one was listening to my conversation. I had almost forgotten I was still at Target.
“Well, so this guy asked me, and I don’t know what to say.”
“Some random dude asked you, or your professor asked you?” I paused. Who else could there be? I knew she didn’t have a boyfriend.
“It was a guy at the party last night and…”
“No, Ann. Do not give your anal cherry to any of those assholes, okay? If you’re going to have anal, you’re going to do it with a man who knows exactly what he is doing and who’s going to make sure that you get as much pleasure from it as he does.”
“Thanks, Shelby. I appreciate that. You’re right. So, does it feel good?”
“Does it feel good?” I repeated. The honest answer was I had no idea, as I’d never had anal. But then I thought about Sam and how I knew he wanted to do that with me. “How’s about I let you know?”
“Okay. Anyway, do you want me to tell the girls that Brian’s lying?”
“Yes, please. Let’s get that asshole blackballed from his fraternity. I’m not going to have him going around telling lies about me. He’s a jackass.”
“Okay. Don’t worry, I’m on it. And I’ll tell everyone that his pinky finger is bigger than his cock.”
“Thanks, Ann. You’re the best.”
“Thanks, Shelby. Hope to see you soon. “
“Okay. Bye,” I said and hung up smiling. Talking to Ann had been just what I needed. I was no longer thinking about Sam.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I lay back in my bed, watching the King of Queens on TV, smiling as Doug and Carrie bantered back and forth. The King of Queens was one of my favorite TV shows, and it always made me laugh.
I had resisted calling or texting Sam, and I was proud of myself because I really wanted to talk to him. I just wanted to hear his voice, but I didn’t want to seem desperate. I didn’t want him to think that I was hoping for a more committed relationship when we had agreed that wasn’t in the cards.