The Follower (3 page)

“I saw that chick in this other film the other day,” Chris said.

“Listen to this dude—
film,”
Will said. “Like it’ll win a fuckin’ Academy Award.”

“Shit, what the hell’s her name?” Chris asked.

“Ginger something,” Will said.

“No, I know who you’re thinking of,” Andy said. “This one’s Heidi or Hillary or something with an H…Holly?…Nah, wait a sec, it’ll come to me.”

Chris continued playing the scene at normal speed and then, just as the guys started to orgasm at the same time—Andy had always wondered how they did that; didn’t they, like, get grossed out by each other?—Greg and Jessica came down the hallway. Chris spotted them and flicked the channel back to ESPN, but Greg and Jessica had obviously heard the sex sounds, because Jessica was smiling and blushing, and Greg looked pissed off.

“Hey, what’s up?” Chris said, trying to act casual.

Andy and Will were trying not to crack up.

“You guys going out tonight?” Jessica asked.

“I have to work,” Chris said.

“Studying,” Will said.

“I have a date,” Andy said.

“Cool,” Jessica said. “If you guys aren’t doing anything tomorrow night, me and my roommates’re having a party.”

“Thanks,” Andy and Will said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Chris said.

Greg walked Jessica out to the elevator and returned a couple of minutes later. The guys were watching porn again.

“You’re such fuckin’ assholes, you know that?” Greg said.

“What?” Chris said innocently.

“Why can’t you turn off that shit when I’ve got a girl in the house?”

“Relax,” Will said. “She seems to like you.”

“Yeah, she seems chill,” Chris said. “What the fuck’s she doing with you? Her roommates good-looking or what?”

“I’m serious,” Greg said. “First Andy walks in on us—”

“I had to get dressed,” Andy said.

“—and then she comes into the living room and it’s porn central.”

“Somebody sounds like he didn’t get any,” Chris said.

“Yeah, I guess the drought ain’t over yet, huh?” Will said.

“Drought?” Chris said. “It’s like the fuckin’ Sahara in there.”

“I’ll be lucky if she even wants to go out with me again,” Greg said.

“What’re you talking about?” Chris said. “She loved us—she invited us to that party. So what’s the deal with the roommates?”

“One’s hot as hell,” Greg said. “The other one’s pretty cute, too.”

“Jessica’s cute, so that sounds promising,” Chris said. “So did you get
anything
off her yet?”

“We got to second base.”

The guys laughed.

“Second base!” Chris said. “Listen to this guy. It’s like he’s back in junior high. So you got in her shirt, huh?”

“I thought second’s a hand job,” Andy said.

“Bullshit,” Chris said. “Second’s the shirt. The guy probably didn’t get under her bra, either. See, look at him, I can tell he didn’t.” Chris laughed.

“I have to admit, that’s pretty pathetic,” Will said.

“You’re still the only guy in the apartment who hasn’t gotten laid,” Chris said to Greg.

“So what?” Greg said. “I don’t have to prove anything to you guys.”

“You have to prove you know how to get laid,” Chris said.

John came into the living room and Chris added, “Even John got some last week.”

“What’s going on?” John asked.

“Greg’s still oh-for-Manhattan,” Will said.

“Thanks to these assholes and their fuckin’ porn,” Greg said.

“Whoa, so now you’re anti-porn?” Chris said. “How come the
Penthouses
have your name and address on them?”

“And the
Screws
, too,” Will said.

“Look who’s talking,” John said to Chris. “Whenever I come home at night, the TV suddenly goes off and I see you lying on the couch, covering up.”

“I gotta agree with that one,” Andy said.

“I admit I like to shoot my rod every once in a while,”
Chris said, “but I think Greg’s the official jerk-off king of this apartment.” He looked at Greg. “Maybe that’s why you’re not getting laid—because you’re jerking off too much. It’s fucking up your sex drive.”

“No, I’m not getting laid because I’m living with you guys,” Greg said.

“So it’s our fault,” Chris said as a statement. “Like if you were living in a studio, the chicks would be lining up for you.”

“Maybe,” Greg said.

“Living here doesn’t stop me from getting laid,” Chris said. “It doesn’t stop John or Doc, and it doesn’t stop your own roommate.” Chris turned toward Andy. “You’ve been fucking that chick, right?”

“Yeah,” Andy lied.

“See?” Chris said to John.

“Hey, how come we haven’t met this girl yet?” John asked Andy.

“Yeah,” Will said. “When’s the reveal?”

“Maybe she’s a pig,” Chris said.

“I’m just preparing her,” Andy said.

“For what?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, we’re nice guys,” Will said.

“Yeah,” Chris said. “I mean, it’s not like we’re disgusting porn-watching scumbags or anything like that.”

Will and Chris laughed, and then Will took a big gulp of beer.

“Maybe he’s talking about the apartment,” John said.

“What’s wrong with the apartment?” Chris asked.

“It’s a fuckin’ pigsty,” John said. “It’s a miracle we don’t have mice.”

“I think I saw a roach the size of a mouse last week,” Will said.

“I’m talking about the apartment
and
you guys,” Andy said.

“What?” Chris said. “You’re embarrassed?”

“You guys don’t exactly make a great first impression,” Andy said.

“Whoa, whoa,” Chris said. “What do you mean? We got a med student, a law student, a handsome-as-hell bartender…”

“He’s got a point,” Will said. “Ever notice how girls don’t wanna go out with us again after they come here?”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Greg said.

“No, the problem is
you,”
Chris said. “You fuck around, trying to get to second base, when you should be getting laid like your roommate.”

Andy got up, then said, “I gotta get going.”

“I wanna see a picture of this mystery girl,” John said to Andy.

“Or how ’bout you set up a Web cam tonight?” Chris added. “See some filmage.”

Andy took his brown leather bomber jacket out of the hallway closet and then said, “Later on, dudes,” and left the apartment.

It was a relief to be alone. Andy had nothing against his roommates—they were cool and everything—but this sharing-a-place-with-five-other-guys shit was getting old. He was glad he was taking the GMATs next month and would be in business school next year. He hoped to go to Wharton or Harvard, and when he had his MBA and some kick-ass job, he’d move back to New York the right way. He’d be working at Lehman Brothers or Morgan Stanley or someplace A-list, and he’d have his
own
three-bedroom. He’d also have a Ferrari, a house in the Hamptons, and everything else he’d always dreamed of.

Heading along Second Avenue, Andy passed a Korean grocery with flowers for sale in front, and he decided to buy a bouquet of pink roses for Katie. He really liked her. She was the first girl he’d met since graduation whom he could see taking home to Pennsylvania to meet his parents. She also was the type of girl he could see being with long-term, even after he got his MBA. He could imagine taking her out to dinner at fancy, trendy restaurants and to work-related parties and feeling proud. The last girl he’d gone out with, Steffi, was cool and everything, but she didn’t have class. She was the kind of girl you want to go to bars with but not who you want to marry. Katie was totally different. Andy knew that Katie liked him as much as he liked her, which was why it was starting to frustrate him that he hadn’t gotten any yet.

Katie said she wanted to take it slow—which was cool with Andy at first because he didn’t want to date a total slut—but he didn’t want to wait forever, either. The next time he told his roommates that he and Katie had had sex he wanted it to be the truth, and since they both really liked each other and were perfect for each other and all that, he didn’t see why they had to wait any longer.

As he crossed Second Avenue, and continued along East Ninety-third, he knew the roses would help big-time. Last year, in Ann Arbor, he’d gone out with this girl Alison. The first couple of times they were alone together, he didn’t get any, and then he went over to her place with a couple of roses and he wound up getting laid.

He went up the stoop of the walk-up apartment where Katie lived, confident that tonight would be his lucky night.

Katie Porter was in the bathroom
, putting on mascara while holding her cell up to her ear, saying to her friend Amanda, “And then he called me the other day at work, not for any reason—just to say, Hi, what’s going on?”

“That’s a good sign,” Amanda said.

“Isn’t it?” Katie said. “And he’s a really sweet guy. He always holds the door open for me when I’m getting into cabs, and he helps me put my coat on—”

“That’s great.”

“And he’s not one of those guys you can’t hold a conversation with. Like that guy Dave I went out with last month, you know the one who kept going on and on about the Mets. I wanted to strangle myself.”

Amanda laughed, then said, “So have you guys…?”

“No, not yet,” Katie said. “I mean, I think he wants to, but, I don’t know, I just want to wait. But he’s really cool about it, you know? He’s not pressuring me or anything.”

Katie put the mascara in the medicine chest and looked at herself, making sure she looked perfect.

“It’s so great you found each other,” Amanda said.

Katie was outside the bathroom, looking in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. “Oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m wearing jeans and I had sushi with tons of soy sauce for lunch.”

“I’m sure you look amazing.”

Still thinking her thighs looked bloated, Katie squatted, trying to stretch the jeans out, then said, “But I really want you to meet him. Maybe we can go out next week or something.”

“Does he have any single friends?”

“He doesn’t talk about his friends that much.”

“Oh.” Amanda sounded like she thought that was weird.

“It’s only been two weeks,” Katie said. “I haven’t even been to his apartment yet.”

“You haven’t?”

“No, but I know he has roommates.”

“Normandie guys?” Amanda asked warily.

“Andy’s a Normandie guy,” Katie said.

“I know, but most of those guys are so immature. My friend Jen at work went out with a Normandie guy last year and he was the biggest asshole. They’re all, like, frat boys.”

“He said one’s in med school and one’s in law school,” Katie said, as if Amanda could be missing out on a major opportunity.

“Have you seen pictures?”

“No, but they could be really good-looking. Andy’s adorable.”

“I hate being set up,” Amanda said. “I mean, maybe if there’s, like, a party or something—”

The buzzer rang.

“That’s him,” Katie said.

“Call me tomorrow and tell me everything.”

“I will.”

Katie clicked off. She buzzed Andy up, then went into the bathroom and put on some more Tommy Girl perfume. She was slightly pissed off at Amanda for acting so high and mighty and she wondered if Amanda was just jealous. Although Amanda was really sweet—well, sweet most of the time, anyway—she’d been having a hard time meeting guys lately. It wasn’t because Amanda wasn’t pretty. She was a little on the heavy side, but she had a cute face and great blue eyes and a beautiful smile. Her attitude needed work, though. She was a year older than Katie and had been living in New York since graduating from Wesleyan a year and a half ago.
Lots of guys had screwed her over, especially since she’d been living in the city, and she let it show, acting all standoffish and bitchy when guys tried to talk to her at bars.

The doorbell rang. Katie looked in the full-length mirror again, still thinking her legs looked fat, wishing she’d changed into something else. Well, too late now. She opened the door and Andy was there, looking really cute in a Banana Republic shirt and with his hair gelled. They said hi and kissed and then Andy handed her a bouquet of pink roses.

“Oh my God, thank you.” She recognized the bouquet and the wrapping from the flowers that were sold at the Korean deli on Second Avenue. She knew these bouquets cost ten dollars and she was disappointed that Andy hadn’t sprung for a little more. Then she reminded herself that he was poor—well, maybe not poor, but he was at his first job out of college and was probably paying off student loans—and it was the thought that counted.

“They’re so beautiful,” she said. “I better go put them in water.”

Andy took off his jacket, then followed Katie into the kitchen. As Katie filled a vase with water, Andy held her from behind and said, “Hey, where’s Susan?”

“Oh, she’s sleeping over at Tom’s tonight.”

“Really? You mean we have the whole place all to ourselves?”

Katie wasn’t sure she liked the tone in Andy’s voice.

“Yeah,” Katie said. “I guess we do.”

Andy came over and started kissing Katie’s neck.

“You’re gonna make me drop the vase,” she said.

Katie finished putting the flowers in the water and went toward the small dining area. Andy followed her and kept kissing her.

“Down, boy,” Katie said.

“I can’t help it,” Andy said. “You’re so beautiful.”

Katie put the vase on the table and said, “How do they look?”

“Awesome,” Andy said, turning Katie toward him. They started making out, then Andy pulled back and said, “It’s so great to see you.”

“You, too,” Katie said.

Andy kissed her again and steered her backward onto the couch. He was on top of her, pressing down a little too hard, but she didn’t say anything. Then his hand slid down her right leg and he started squeezing the side of her thigh and she wondered if he was feeling her fat.

After he undid her bra and started rubbing her breasts, Katie pushed him back gently and said, “We should go to dinner now.”

“Why?” Andy said and started kissing her again.