Ask any of my friends and they would be the first to admit that my views differ from theirs. For example, I have issues using the terms boyfriend, relationship, and serious in conversations involving the guys I typically have around. Unless of course the sentence in question is something along the lines of "The guy you referred to as my boyfriend, and I are not in a serious relationship." However, I have stronger morals than some. For instance I refuse to hook up with guys who have significant others, but the past few guys in my life who made it to the next level, relationship wise, I could care less if they cheated on me, which all did. There is something about being "the other woman" that bothers me, or maybe it is that I've seen too many of my friends fall victim to "the other woman's" intrusion. Regardless, I will get to the story.
The other night I had a friend come through town who needed a place to stay. Chad gave me a call around midnight saying he was in the area and needed a place to crash before he hit the road again, to which I offered my couch. I had been at the bar with some friends and had nursed more than my share of drinks. I grabbed a cab home just in time to let Chad in the door. We caught up over a couple more beers. He had told me he was on his way to his fiancé's parent's house, and just needed to catch up on some sleep. I apparently neglected this part of our conversation.
Soon thereafter we were in my room half naked, making out when the term "fiancé" rang through my head. I freaked out, kicked him out of my room, and for a moment there, I had become the other girl.
My phone's alarm woke me up around 8:30 only to find Chad was gone, but his scent was stuck to my sheets. I threw them in the wash and sent out a text to Kerry simply stating that I was taking a vow of celibacy and no longer drinking. She laughed. Which, in her defense, would be an acceptable reaction from most of my friends, since they are all well aware of my track record. I don't know why it is such a big deal to me but I promised myself that I'd never get drunk enough to make a mistake like the one with Chad, and I think it is safe to say my sex drive had a big part in my lapse of judgment. I explained the situation to her and she, for the most part, understood. What she didn't was the sobriety section of my new moral contract. She continued to ask questions about this internal promise to myself, basically looking for loopholes, hoping that I could at least drink around her. I assumed that she thought I was a more enjoyable person with a few drinks in me.
Fast forward three weeks and I had stuck to my guns. Sober and celibate I had gotten so much accomplished. I had read through my entire semester's material, cycled at least 8 miles a day, and unfortunately picked up smoking to help take the edge off. I could handle sobriety, but the whole celibacy thing had gotten to me. I had decided if I was going to remain celibate I should do it right and not... ugh... help myself out. I had sex dreams literally every evening, and they weren't amazing dreams. Honestly, they were pathetic and lacked the detail I would need to get by. However, I knew that if I stopped smoking I would wake up one night dry humping a pillow or sleep walking to a strip club.
At some point during that third week Kerry had the group over cocktails. She even splurged and purchased tiny toothpicks in the shape of penises for the drinks. Out of the group I was closest to Kerry by far, and quite impressed with her ability to take the initiative to get the part going. She typically went with the flow of things and let everyone else do the planning.
Standing around Kerry's small kitchen Leah called out, "So, Marissa, how is the whole celibacy and sober thing going?" She said in a mocking tone, knowing I was suffering. "Fine, thanks for asking," I replied grudgingly. The girls began recounting the point of my promise to myself: not one of my finest moments. Kerry came and squeezed in between Lacey and I to join in the conversation. "So when is this whole thing going to end, I mean you can't honestly intend on never having sex again, or drinking. I mean fuck you aren't Mother Theresa," Leah continued.
"I don't know," I replied honestly, "I have so much more energy now, but I suppose not until I am over it. I mean what if it had been one of your boyfriends?" I strategically admitted this, knowing that it would get them to stop questioning my motives. It didn't.
"I doubt you would have ever put yourself in that type of situation with anyone who was involved with one of us." Kerry said as she put one of her toned arms around my waist, placing her hand on the bare skin between my denim skirt and my tight tank top, giving me a bit of a side hug. The small skin-to-skin contact with another person sent chills through me. I wanted to melt into her. It took me a while to say anything.
Once I was able to absorb what she had said, I decided that she did have a point. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize my friendships. Besides, the men in my life come and go too frequently, but these girls have always stayed. Who needed a boyfriend when I have all the stability I needed in them.
Regardless, throughout the evening I was able to burn through half a pack and probably pay too much attention to the mini penis sticks. But I was able to keep an eye on the rest of the girls, a habit I picked up once I stopped drinking.
I had noticed that Kerry hadn't even finished her first drink by the time the girls began making their way home. I volunteered to help her clean up, hoping I could figure out what the cause of her sudden change in personality was.
She was bent over the coffee table picking up napkins and half drunk glasses of liquor, allowing the fabric of her shirt to ride up, catching my attention. The sexual repression was obviously getting to me. I made my way over to the stereo and turned off the music, picking up cold empty bottles of rum and vodka as I went along, trying to avoid Kerry's exposed skin. I picked up a towel and ran it under some warm water, instantly warming up my hands. I began wiping down the counters that once held remains of the party when Kerry walked into the kitchen dropping more bottles into a trash sack.
She disappeared into her room then returned wearing cotton shorts and thin tank top exposing her rising nipples. She slid on top of the counter and watched me wipe down the rest.
"You threw a pretty good shindig if you ask me."
"Ya think?"
"Yeah. I mean throwing these things aren't typically your thing, but it was fun."
"Yeah, well I've had a bit of change of heart recently."
"I've noticed. You didn't drink your typical amount tonight either."
"Well, I don't know. I was telling Leah I kind of have a crush on someone, but they typically go for more outgoing people. So I decided to throw this little girls night and watch what a drink."
"Ah, I see. But I don't know why you are all concerned about watching what you drink." I said as I tossed the cleaning rag in the corner and mimicked her position on the opposite counter.
"Well, I don't want to hook up with 'em and be drunk. Ya know like give them the impression that I only did because I was drunk, or ya know, that I would later regret the whole thing."
