The BACHELORETTE Project (The Project: LESLEE Series) (31 page)

"Hello?" Annie says annoyed.

"Oh my God, thank you!" I say in a frantic whisper. "Annie, I have a problem."

"What?" Annie is
still disoriented because it's so early. "Leslee, this better be really fucking good. It's seven in the morning, and it's Sunday. If this wasn't a holy day, I'd put my foot up your ass for waking me up."

"This is definitely something to talk about," I start. "This morning I woke up and I wasn't in my room."

"OK ..."

"I didn't wake up in my house either," I whisper. "Just guess where I woke up at this morning."

"Um, New York?"

"No, guess again."

Annie grunts. "Leslee, if you don't get to the point, I'm hangin' up and turning off my phone. It's too early for this shit!"

"OK, OK!" I say. "I woke up at Eric's house ... in his room ... on his bed ... naked."

Annie gasps. "What?" she says and starts to laugh at me.

"It's not funny!" I sigh. "He's the last person I'd ever sleep with. I don't know how this happened."

"Leslee, it's like this: when a man and a woman get together, and t
hey're attracted to each other…”

"Yeah, yeah, funny, funny. I called you for some friendly advice and you're making fun of me? How typical of you."

"Why is it typical? You did something unexpected and now I'm laughing at you. Friends do that."

"The whole Xavier thing was something unexpected you did and I didn't laugh at you," I remind her and she doesn't respond. It’s an awkward silence, a period of silence where it’s enough to let me think about what’s going on at this very moment. "Wait a second ... you're with him now, aren’t you?!" I ask and Annie stays silent as if there's a frog in her throat. "He's right next to you, isn't he?"

She stutters. "I, well, he invited me over his house last night, so I came over, had a few drinks, one thing led to another, and—"

"You slept with him?" I hiss.

"Um, yeah, I did." You can hear the shamefulness in Annie's voice as if she's embarrassed about what she did.

"All four
inches of him?" I ask. Annie doesn't breathe a word. Now it’s my turn to laugh. "Wow, it must be true!" I exclaim. Sadly, I’m finding enjoyment in laughing at her misery. Annie loves a well-endowed man. She'd have it no other way, so I know having slept with a miniature peen
/remote control
and me knowing about it is killing her. Bwah wah wah! Serves her right!

"Size isn't everything," she says in her defense.

"Oh, sure it's not," I reply with a sarcastic tone in my voice. Karma's a bitch and I love her for it!

"I'm going back to bed," Annie yawns. "Good luck with Eric."

"No, no, wait, Annie," I beg to stop her from hanging up the phone. "What should I do? He's still sleeping. Should I wake him up then leave or should I just leave?"

"Do what Eric does to other women, just leave," Annie replies. "Just take your stuff and go."

"But, we're friends."

"Who fuckin' cares?!" Annie yawns again as if to say my issue is boring her. "Eric is a jerk and we both know this, us and every other woman in the Philadelphia Tri-State area. Don't explain anything to him, just go."

"I can't leave yet."

"Why not?"

"Because ..." Embarrassed by the simple and obvious fact that I don’t know where my wardrobe is, I tell Annie anyway of my present nude escapade. "I can't find my clothes."

"Where are they?"

"Not in his room apparently,” I answer. “I'm in the kitchen right now wrapped up i
n a blanket like a damn sausage,
" I respond. At that very moment, I see my panties swaying back and forth in front o
f my face
and long
and beho
ld
Jeremy, Eric's older brother
,
is the one swinging them. As I feel my face turn red from humiliation, I rush Annie off the phone. "I have to go. I'll call you later," I say quickly and hang up the phone. With my head hanging down in shame, I greet Jeremy with a low, unenthusiastic, "Hi."

"Long time, no see Leslee," Jeremy says even though I just saw his fugly face the night before, "and today, I'm seeing more of you than I usually do." I put out my hand and he hands me my panties.

"So embarrassing," I mutter to myself.

Jeremy shakes his head. "Tisk, tisk," he says with a smirk on his face.  "You do realize that your wardrobe is spread about my house."

Oh, God
, I think to myself.
This is so humiliating
. "This isn't happening. This
can’t
be happening," I say to myself.

"I found your shirt and pants in the kitchen, your shoes in the dining room, which by the way are still under the table," he tells me, "your bra and a pair of metal handcuffs in the bathroom, and last but certainly not least, your underwear lying in the middle of the hallway. All in all, I'd say you had a very fun-filled night." Jeremy mischievously smiles at me. "Coffee?" he asks.

"No thanks," I say in a rush. "I really should be going."

"What?" he asks shocked by my answer. "You're just gonna screw my brother and leave? Now that's not very nice."

I begin to do the infamous Annie stutter. "I, um, uh ..."

"You know what people call that, right?"

"Um, uh—"

"Screwing and run." Jeremy laughs at his own joke. "It's like a hit and run except in this case, you're screwing and running."

"I don't think that's funny, Jeremy. I'm a little baffled by the situation right now and honestly just a little bit embarrassed."
I begin to get irritated quickly.

"No need to be embarrassed, lesbo," Jeremy assures me as he prepares his morning coffee. “You are family … of course it’s by penal injection, but nevertheless, still family.” He takes a small sip from his mug. “Oooh, kinda hot. You sure you don’t want any?”

I shake my head as I pick up my shoes from the floor, grab my purse, and run through the living room and out the front door. I’m too humiliated to search every room in their house for my clothes. As long as my boobs and crotch are covered by the thin bed sheet that I’m wearing, I shouldn’t get pulled over by any cops or get any weird stares from Philly civilians.

I take a deep breath as I
plop into my horrible
piece of shit car. I throw my shoes, purse, and underwear on the passenger seat and begin to wonder if I should leave or not.
Yes, Leslee.
I think to myself.
You should go. Don’t make matters any worse than they are. Situations like this ruin friendships and this is one friendship that you don’t want to lose.
Sighing, I start my car and pull away from Eric’s house still confused and oh-so freakin’ embarrassed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is stupid,” I tell Karen, pouting.

“This is not stupid. It’s genius,” she tells me as she zips up the back of my bridesmaid dress. After the night I’ve had, I’m here in the middle of another bridal shop experiencing my own personal Hell starring Karen as the Bride Lucifer.

“It’s five months before your wedding and you already want me to try on bridesmaids dresses,” I say. “Isn’t it too soon for this?”

Karen gasps at my comment. “It’s never too soon,” she argues. “Besides, I want to see what it looks like on you, and if it looks funny, then I’d have to find another dress for you. Oh, and before I forget …” Karen walks over to her p
urse, pulls out a
pamphlet
, and hands it to me. “You’ll need this.”

“’Karen Culbertson’s Wedding Workout and Diet Regimen for Bridesmaids?’” I read aloud. Is she serious? Did she actually hand me a pamphlet telling me to starve myself and to work out three hours a day? “You’re crazy,” I say.

“Stop saying I’m stupid and crazy,” she tells me. “I’m a genius. I don’t want my wedding party to look sloppy and out of sorts. Everyone has to look perfect.”

“People come in different shapes and sizes, Karen.”

“Not in my wedding party, they don’t. I don’t want any of my bridesmaids being over a size ten. That’s the limit.”

“Oh,” I say, rolling my eyes. “OK then.”

“And if any of you even
think
of getting impregnated before my wedding, I will kick you out of my wedding and I will kick you out of my life.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?”

“No!” Karen snaps. “It’s not harsh. It’s realistic. I don’t want any pregnant heifers walking down the aisle before me. Plus, I have to look at my wedding pictures in years to come. I don’t want that as a memory, now turn around.” I slowly turn my back to Karen. “Nice, now turn again and walk one step.” I sigh and do what she says. “Perfect. If you follow my wedding workout and nutrition regimen, you should fit better in the dress by December.”

“Karen, I’m not starving myself for your wedding, and I’m definitely not doing a master cleanse. You are nuts.”

“Beyonce did a master cleanse for ten days and lost twenty pounds,” Karen tells me.

“And Beyonce is a millionaire who consistently has to worry about her looks. I don’t.”

Karen sighs. “You know, for someone who just had sex last night, you really are uptight.”
She knows!
I think to myself.
She has to know, but how does she know? I didn’t tell her.
“Yeah, I saw how you walked in the house this morning wit
h that sheet wrapped around you,
” she tells me, laughing. “You must’ve had some night. I thought you were going out with Eric though? Did you have a hot date instead?”

“No,” I say quickly. “It’s complicated.”

Karen begins to unzip my dress and pull it off. “Come on. You know you want to tell me. Who was the lucky guy?” I can feel my face getting hot from embarrassment. I should tell her. She’ll probably find out anyway. I take a deep breath.

“It was Eric!” I blurt out. “I had sex with Eric.”

Karen’s mouth drops in shock. “What?”

“I had sex with him, or at least I think I did. I don’t know.” I put my hands on my head and begin to bite my lip. Why am I even ashamed of it all? Does it even matter?

“What do you mean that you don’t know?” Karen asks backing away from me.

“It means that I had one too many strawberry martinis to remember,” I say as Karen gasps. “First, we were making out, then his shirt was off, then my underwear was off, and then … I don’t know what we did.”

“You’re a dirty girl, Leslee,” Karen says, laughing. “A really dirty girl.” Why does she think this is amusing? The situation isn’t amusing at all. I just had sex with one of my best friends in world and she thinks it’s funny? When did this situation become funny? “So, you ran out of his house with no clothes, huh?”

“I don’t think I ran fast enough if you ask me,” I say as I begin to get dressed.

“Well, did you talk to him this morning?” she asks.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I was too embarrassed! I just wanted to leave,” I say, frustratingly. “I called Annie and asked her what I should do, and she said that I should leave and not say anything because he does it to women all the time.”

“Wait a second. You called Annie instead of me?”

“Yes, and when I called her, Xavier was in bed with her.”

“Didn’t she meet him like two seconds ago?”

“Yeah, the day before yesterday,” I answer.

“I told you she was a whore,” Karen reminds me as I sit down to put the gloss on my lips. “So what are you gonna do now? You should at least call Eric.”

“No,” I tell her. “We had sex and now our friendship is ruined. It’s over.”

“No, it’s not. You should call him and just talk to him,” Karen suggests. “Maybe it’ll make your friendship a little more fun.”

“Oh, yes, a friend with benefits,” I reply sarcastically. “That’s
exactly
the type of relationship I’m looking for.” I roll my eyes. “I have to go. I’m going to be late for my interview. It’s only around the corner.”

“So that’s why you were dressed like a librarian today,” Karen says. “I guess it beats wearing a bed sheet.”

I fake laugh. “That’s funny,” I say sarcastically as I finish putting on my original interview outfit. “You really got me there.”

“Can I be honest with you?” she asks me.

“Yeah.”

“Did you ever think that it was meant to be?” Karen asks and I raise my eyebrow. “You know, the whole sleeping with Eric thing.”

“No, because he’s a manwhore.”

Karen walks over to me and puts her hand on my shoulder. “Leslee, you really don’t know how ten years can change a person.”

“Karen,” I start, “people never change.”

“You don’t know that,” she tells me. “Just call him. I bet you can still be friends and just forget about all of this.”

I pick up my
oversized
purse and rise from my seat. “I have to go now,” I say as I begin to walk out of the bridal shop and onto the streets of Rittenhouse Square. As I walk to my interview, I begin to think how low my self-esteem is getting. I’m a good person, so why do I put myself in horrible situations? I have not only found a way to ruin my relationships with men, but I’ve also found the perfect way to lose friends: have sex with them.