Just Friends With Benefits (35 page)

But what if his phone was broken and he never got the message? Or what if he lost his phone while he was out with his friends last night? Or what if the girl he was fucking deleted the message? I realized I was sweating and went back inside to take a shower, but then decided to wait a little while in case Ryan called. My legs were still shaking and I was afraid I’d pass out in the shower anyway.

Jess and Eric were sitting on my couch/bed.

Gesturing toward the pillow and comforter now on the floor, Eric asked, “Did you sleep here?”

“Uh, huh,” I said.

“Why?”

“I couldn’t fall asleep in my bed so I came out to watch television and just fell asleep. What’s the big deal?”

“I take it by your ‘tude that you haven’t spoken to Ryan yet?”

Not sure who I was trying to convince, I said, “I left him a message. He’s probably sleeping, though. It’s really early and he likes to sleep late on weekends—like me.” I dramatically plopped myself on the other couch, stretched my feet on the coffee table and whined, “I wish he’d call me back already!”

Looking confused, Jess asked, “What’s the urgency?”

I looked at Eric. “You tell her. I need some air.” I stood back up and started walking toward the balcony before I realized I forgot something, did an about-face and grabbed my phone from the coffee table. As I headed outside, I pretended not to see Eric shaking his head at me.

The morning hours passed pretty quickly and when Ryan didn’t call, I remained relatively calm. I even pretended to help Hille make French toast. As it approached 11, I became very anxious knowing Ryan was probably going to wake up soon and call me back. I kept my eye on my phone even as I put on my bathing suit for our last day on the beach.

While on the beach, I didn’t drink any beers because I didn’t want to be drunk when he called. And I didn’t listen to my Ipod because I wanted to hear the phone when it rang. And since I sat up every five seconds to make sure my phone was charged, I was pretty much guaranteed to leave the Outer Banks with an uneven tan.

I couldn’t sit still. “Going to dip my feet in the water,” I said. “Anyone want to come?”

Standing up, Hope said, “I’ll go with you.”

Denise was lying stomach down on her beach towel but flipped over and said, “Me too.”

“I guess it’s a girl thing. Count me in.” Jess stood up and extended her hand to help me up. “Let’s go chicky.”

Grabbing her hand and pulling myself up, I said, “Cool.” I bent down to pick up my phone but Eric took it before I had a chance.

“Leave your phone here, Steph. A watched phone doesn’t ring,” he insisted. “And with your luck, you’ll end up dropping it in the ocean.”

I was reluctant to part with my phone, but knew he was right. If I dropped the phone in the water, it would probably break and I’d never get Ryan’s call. I couldn’t bear that and so I threw the phone in my bag and leaned down to kiss Eric on the cheek. “Thanks,” I said.

Arms locked, Jess and I walked towards the water. “I don’t know what I’d do without your husband, Jess. He’s my voice of reason.”

“My honey is pretty awesome, isn’t he?”

“That he is. Ryan’s pretty awesome too, but Eric is da-bomb!”

When we got to the edge of the water, we stopped walking. Hope and Denise had ventured out further and were riding the waves. I tried to erase the memory of riding the waves with Hille and thinking it meant he loved me.

Jess turned to me with a serious expression on her face. “Eric told me what happened with Ryan. Sorry, Steph.”

I forced a smile and said, “It’ll be fine. We’ll straighten everything out once he calls me back.” The smile fading, I added, “I just wish he’d call me back already. I’m losing it.”

“Try not to think about it,” Jess said.

“Easier said than done!”

“I know. Maybe you should drink a beer to relax.” Patting her growing belly, she laughed and said, “Wish I could.”

“You’re right. He’ll call when he calls. In the meantime, I don’t want to waste my last day on the beach obsessing over it.”

“That’s my girl. Let’s go. My feet are sufficiently cooled off now.”

“Mine too,” I said.

When we returned to our chairs, I immediately went to check my phone.

Eric whispered, “It didn’t ring.”

Shrugging my shoulders, I said, “Oh well. No biggie.” Then I grabbed a beer from the cooler and sat down. I looked over at Hille listening to his book on tape and tried not to hate him for ruining my life. It wasn’t his fault and even if he wasn’t gay, I still knew that breaking up with Ryan was the stupidest thing I’d ever done. Far more stupid than the time I did a lap around Fraternity Row as fast as I could, believing Paul and Eric were really timing me. When I got back to the front of the Phi Alpha house, huffing and puffing and sweating profusely, they were both smoking cigarettes and when I asked them how long it took me, they pretended not to know what I was talking about. Yes, I was the second most gullible girl at my college. I didn’t know who was more gullible than me but there had to be someone.

I made a deal with myself that I wouldn’t look at my phone until I finished my beer.

Beer finished, I checked my phone, threw it back in my bag and asked, “What time is it?” I could have checked the time on my phone but didn’t want to look at it again so soon.

“Time to drink another beer,” Paul called out.

“That too, but what time is it really?”

Paul looked at his watch and said, “1:22.”

“Thanks,” I said. I decided not to check my phone until at least 2:22. “Hand me a beer, please someone.”

Two beers and three checks of my phone later, I was drunk from drinking on an empty stomach and Ryan still hadn’t called. We headed back to the house to pack to go home the next morning. We had pretty much finished off the alcohol and eaten most of the food so we decided to bring in Chinese for dinner. I wasn’t in the mood to eat. I also wasn’t in the mood to pack. I was only in the mood to wallow in self-pity. I was losing faith that Ryan was going to call. None of the excuses I had given him had much merit anymore. Sure, he might have had soccer practice that morning but it should’ve been over by now. And even if it was his father’s birthday, he could’ve taken a few minutes to call me back. And, yes, there was a .00000001% chance that he didn’t get my message, but he probably had. My only hope was he was purposely making me suffer by waiting until later to call. After what I’d done, I could live with that.

I wasn’t hungry but I sat with the others at the kitchen table. I grabbed the container of lo mein, poured some into my plate and started eating. When I was finished, I took some more. I wondered what Ryan was eating for dinner and if he was thinking about me. I wanted him to call me back more than anything in the whole world.

“Steph!”

I looked up from my plate to find everyone staring at me. “What?”

“Stop bogarting the lo mein,” Paul said.

Confused, I said, “Huh?”

Speaking to me like I was a deaf child, Paul repeated, “Please Pass The Lo Mein.”

“Oh.” I picked up the container and was about to pass it down to Paul at the end of the table when I noticed it was empty. “There’s nothing left,” I said.

“You ate the entire thing? I thought you weren’t hungry,” Paul said.

“I didn’t eat it all!” I insisted.

Paul stood up. “Raise your hand if you ate any lo mein tonight?”

I raised my hand and looked around the room. No one else’s hand was up. “Sorry guys. I eat when I’m nervous,” I said.

“What are you nervous about, Cohen?” Paul asked.

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you eating like a fucking pig?”

“Because I feel like it. Go to hell, Paul. You’ve been a complete prick to me this entire week. I can’t wait to get the fuck away from you tomorrow!” With that, I left the table and went outside to the balcony, slamming the sliding door behind me. I was afraid to look inside the house and knew they were talking about me. I lit one of the cigarettes Eric had left outside and took a deep drag. I promised myself when I got home, I wouldn’t have another cigarette for at least a month. But I smoked when I was pissed. And I smoked when I felt out of control. And I was both pissed and out of control. Plus, smoking was less fattening than eating. Not that anyone was likely to see me naked in the near future. I heard the squeak of the sliding door, looked up and saw Paul standing in front of me.

He smiled softly and said, “The door could use a little WD40, huh?”

“I guess so,” I said.

“You hate me, Cohen?”

“Not really. But you must admit you’ve been quite the dick to me this week,” I said.

Paul sat next to me. “That’s my job! You’re like my kid sister. I’m supposed to tease you. And by the way, I’ve been reasonably well-behaved, considering the little stunt you pulled yesterday on the beach.”

“Stunt I pulled? You started it! And besides, I already have an older brother and he hasn’t been that mean to me since I was about twelve. And I never slept with him.”

“Thanks for confirming that piece of information. I’d always wondered about you two.”

I hit Paul on the leg. “Shut up.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m in a fight with Ryan,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay. You don’t have to,” Paul said.

“I think we’re over,” I said.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I’m a complete fuck-up, that’s why.” When Paul opened his mouth to speak, I put my hand against it and said, “I’m not in the mood for your sarcasm, Paul!”

Paul brushed my hand aside. “All I was gonna say is that couples fight. Look at me and Hope. One minute she wants to cut off my balls and the next she’s...”

Laughing I said, “Massaging them?”

“And they say I’m the pervert.”

“This is different. We’ve only been dating about two months. I don’t have much goodwill in the bank.”

Giving me a devilish grin, Paul said, “Do you massage them?”

Confused I asked, “Do I massage what?”

Paul responded with a knowing look and it hit me. Giggling, I said, “Yes, I do not neglect the balls!”

“There’s your goodwill. My job is done.” Paul stood up. “Let’s go, Cohen. There’s a pint of chicken chow mein with your name on it.”

As I walked with Paul back in the house, I turned to him and said, “Ew, who ordered chicken chow mein?”

After I finished packing to go home, I double checked the washer and dryer to make sure none of my G-strings had accidentally gotten stuck to the side of the machines and, hoping for a distraction, returned to the living room to see what everyone else was up to.

Hille was clearing out the refrigerator. “Anyone want any leftover steak and mushrooms before I throw it out?” he asked. When no one answered, he asked, “What about salad?” and looked around. “Guess not,” he said before chucking it all in the trash, plastic container and all.

Paul was collecting all the empty beer bottles and stacking them for recycling. He stood with his hands on his hips looking at the cardboard containers full of empties and muttered, “Bunch of drunks.”

Wearing headphones and bopping around the kitchen singing, “Under my umbrella. Ella, ella, eh eh eh,” oblivious to everyone else, Denise was emptying the dishwasher and putting all of the clean dishes back in the cabinets above the stove.

And Corky was outside on the balcony, picking up the cigarette butts that had never made it into the ashtrays. I watched him take a final drag of his own cigarette, throw it on the ground and step on it, only to pick it up a second later and throw it in the garbage bag.